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tboyvampire · 1 year

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Could you save my soul tonight?

A 2004-era Frerard fanfic

—

“I’ve fucking had it with this shit.”

The tensions had been rising on the bus for weeks now. As the band snaked its way across the states, scraping by as they stopped in the smallest towns any of them had ever seen, the energy on the bus grew corrosive. At first it was the sleep and the food, both of which were scarce to come by most days. The boys each hit their own respective tipping points and had to cope in the ways they could manage - Ray dove head first into jamming with other bands, Mikey would disappear for days on end with whatever new boy picked him up that week, and who knows what the fuck Bob was up to most days. Gerard slipped, tripped, fell down his own dark path, sliding closer to oblivion. Frank grew more resentful of the chaos that was threatening to destroy them all.

The wear of the road marked itself differently on each boy. For the Way brothers, it had two distinct manifestations - those dark circles that grew with each passing day (Mikey disguised them with his frames and those long bangs, while Gerard passed them off as a sartorial choice by emphasizing them with makeup), but anyone who was on that bus would tell you it was really all about their smell. It hung like a thick musk in the air on the bus, only emphasized when you drew closer to either of their bunks. It was so pervasive that it almost became imperceptible after a while, but as soon as your nose caught a whiff of fresh air again, the smell would just deepen by comparison. Frank likened it to toxoplasmosis, the cat shit parasite that zombifies a cat owner and calls them to do the cat’s bidding. As weird as it sounds, the smell had a grip on him, and he couldn’t shake it. It stirred up all kinds of feelings within him, not all of which he had words for. Disgust and anger, sure, but also comfort, familiarity, and a deeper feeling somewhere below his stomach. He couldn’t help but notice he missed it when it was gone.

It was impossible for Frank not to notice Gerard’s self destructive spiral. It was cute at first, sure, seeing your friend discover himself. Something blossomed in the kid - he gained a sense of real identity and confidence, and the magnetism was palpable. He knew he had hit something special in his music, his lyrics, and he started to get cocky. The rockstar trope exists for a reason - that kind of street-heretic manic frenzy is a hotbed for creative expression, when it can be channeled properly. But Gee, poor fuck, was slowly spinning out. Bert wasn’t helping.

Something volatile was happening between Gerard and Bert, who had become sort of funhouse-mirror versions of one another, reflecting back the pain and genius in each other in blown-out proportions. Gerard clearly loved Bert’s confidence, his puckish charm, the chaos vortex he created around himself. Bert saw Gerard’s genius clear as day, and from the first moment he met him, he knew that genius would yank him far away from the maze of shitty tour vans and hot asphalt they lost themselves in most nights. But for now, this was their home, their domain. Frank could hear the two of them some nights, when they were too drunk to remember to keep it down. They always denied it in the morning.

The tour had been dragging on for weeks by the time the tension reached a boiling point. There was something in the air that day - Gee had given a fucking abysmal performance and Frank’s stage presence wasn’t enough to overshadow it this time. It was mortifying, really. Gerard could barely sing, he was sweating booze through his skin in the beating sun; his fucking pants fell down. The boys had gotten off that stage and all gone their separate ways, unsure of how to face up to the embarrassment of that experience.

Frank floated through the rest of his day, furious. He knew something had to shift, something major. Gerard had to finally fucking understand he couldn’t keep going on like this. A traditional intervention was completely out of the question. How could he hit Gee where it hurt, while simultaneously showing him how much he cared? Thoughts swarmed his head as he killed time, waiting for it to get dark.

Frank couldn’t say exactly what pushed him over the edge- true death by a thousand cuts. He sat pensive in the bus as the night grew darker, waiting for Gee to show himself. Time ticked by and the pain in Frank’s chest only grew. Then, he heard Gee talking to himself like a goddamn madman outside the tour bus, slamming into the bus as he walked by, gently shaking it. That finally sent Frank over the edge.

“Nah, fuck this, I’m done.” Frank’s vision went red with anger. He was tired of being second best, tired of this man acting like he’s hot shit when he was quickly destroying all they had worked so hard to get.

Something absolutely snapped within Frank, and his impulse to destroy kicks in. His head filled with a stingy hot anger, effervescent at his temples, radiating out down his neck and through his arms. This ends tonight. He grabbed the duct tape that they keep around to repair the tour van, and headed outside into the hot August night.

—

Frank comes around the tour bus to find Gerard, swaying and smoking a cigarette, holding what must be his sixth beer of the evening. “Bitch, you have gotten on my last nerve,” he growls under his breath. Gee looks up, caught off guard by Frank’s sudden appearance. Frank locks his eyes on Gerard, smirks, and steps towards him.

“You have no idea how fucking exhausting you can be sometimes, do you?”

Gerard looks at Frank first with amusement, and then a jolt of fear rushes through his body. Fuck, Frank is MAD. What the fuck did I do?

Frank steps toe-to-toe with Gerard and inhales deeply in a vain attempt to collect himself. Even in the open air, Gerard’s thick smell fills Frank’s nose, lungs, and permeates him deeply. With a quick shove, Frank slams Gerard up against the side of the bus, his head knocking against the metal. Frank reaches his hand for Gee’s thigh, tracing his way up his jeans, over the belt, gently catching on the bottom of his t-shirt and tracing on his stomach before moving up, across his chest, up his neck, and finally, along his jawline. Frank firmly grasps Gerard’s face in his hand, and with that, steps forward and moves their bodies even closer together. The anger and tension mix together in the hot summer air and give Frank a clear message - I’m going to make this fucker listen.. I’m going to make him pay. The power and focus move through Frank’s body, down his chest, filling him with an intoxicating clarity of purpose. Suddenly he begins to feel his cock growing hard, almost filling itself with his rage, and everything seems to click into place. Ah shit, this is what this is about, isn’t it?

Gerard keeps his eyes pinned on Frank’s.. not that he has much of a choice, as their faces are mere inches away from one another’s, and Frank has his head held firmly in place. Gerard suddenly feels a cool rush flow through his body, from his chest down into the deepest reaches of his soul. He’s trembling. It’s an abysmal loss of power, instantly. His eyes widen and devolve into a pathetic pout, begging Frank..what for, he has no idea. Then, Frank pulls his face forward, moving Gee’s ear to touch Frank’s lips.

“Those pretty little puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna get you far tonight. You are a problem I am going to finally take care of. I can’t believe it took me this long to figure it out.. to understand the fucking mind games you have been playing with me. Act innocent all you want, but I am fucking done. This ends now. Do you understand?”

Gerard has no words, only panicked blinking, his eyelashes batting against his cheeks in a flurry. He doesn’t understand, at all. How could he possibly understand?

Right hand still gripped on Gee’s jaw, Frank pushes Gerard back into the warm metal of the tour bus again, harder this time. With his left hand, Frank grabs Gerard between the legs and squeezes, clamping down on his swollen balls and half-hard cock. “Does that make this any clearer?”

“Yes, Frankie,” Gerard musters through his gripped-shut jaw as a surge of pain moves through his body. As the words escape his mouth, he begins to sink even further.

“You see, Gerard.. you and your behavior lately have been absolutely disgusting, but I don’t think you have actually felt any of it. You’ve deflected it towards us without feeling any of it for yourself. That changes now. I am going to make you feel your full dose of shame so we can move on from this once and for all.” Frank lets go of Gerard’s face, digs his knee between Gerard’s legs, and brandishes the duct tape that has been held around Frank’s left wrist. Frank finds the edge of the tape, picks up the corner and loudly rips off a strip of duct tape. “Put your hands above your head, faggot,” spitting his anger out as that last word escaped his lips. Gerard does as he is told, and is suddenly rock hard under his jeans.

Frank slaps a piece of the silver duct tape to Gerard’s wrists and wraps it around once, twice, three times. He seals the wrist tape off, and holds Gerard’s immobilized wrists to the side of the tour bus. Gee’s breath is quick and shallow, staring at Frank’s face as he focuses intently on restraining him.

“Dude, what the fuck,” Gerard whimpers. He is so shocked that he can barely process the information in front of him and react. “What the hell is this about, man?” He feels like he could cry, if the shock wasn’t paralyzing him.

“Seriously Gee, you have no idea what this could be about? You are a fucking train wreck. You’re wasted all of the time. Dude, your fucking pants fell down on stage the today. You forgot the words to Vampires for fuck’s sake. VAMPIRES!! And worst of all, you fucking reek.”

Gerard averts his eyes, mind racing. He had always been self conscious of his smell, and when he had given up on keeping his life together on tour, his rigorous personal hygiene routine was the first to go. Screaming on a stage for an hour, not sleeping, getting up and doing it again day after day did not leave much room for showers. But even before then, Gerard had a particular acrid bite to his presence. The few girls he had been with had said they liked it in a weird way, but he never quite believed it. It drove Bert wild though, and so Gee didn’t have much motivation for keeping it under control, even though he knew it meant subjecting everyone on the bus to his filth.

“Frankie, dude, I’m okay. I promise. And you know how bad camp showers freak me out. I can’t take my shirt off in front of these guys.”

“And why would that be?”

Gerard falls deep into thought again. He couldn’t find the words to express the fact that taking his shirt off meant reckoning with his physical form and exposing himself to the prying eyes of others. Sure, he sang in front of a crowd every night, but that was a performance. This was different.. this was something intimately him, that he couldn’t bear to show others. Not now.

“Uh, I… don’t want to be seen?” Gerard was searching for the right phrase to get Frank to chill the fuck out and untie him, let him hide in his own private death spiral once again.

“Bullshit, motherfucker. If you didn’t want to be seen, you wouldn’t have holes in your fucking shirt.” Frank grabbed Gerard’s chest, dug a thumb into a small hole in the center of the Motörhead shirt he had been wearing every day for years, and pulled. A loud rip signaled that the shirt had been shredded in half, hanging on by the collar at the top.

“Dude, c’mon, you know I only have like, three shirts.” Gee’s eyes welled up with tears, deeply unsettled and honestly scared. Something was off with Frank tonight, and this was escalating, quickly.

Frank laughs, staring at Gee’s terrified expression. “You’re finally realizing what kind of trouble you’re in, aren’t you?” Frank’s fingerless-glove clad hands reach up to pinch Gerard’s puffy exposed nipples, hard. Gee lets out a sharp yelp, immediately quieting himself down once he catches himself, and quickly moving his duct-taped arms down to cover his chest in a vain attempt to fend off Frank. He looks down to see his body, laid bare through the ripped shirt, his arms stuck to one another with no further range of motion. Frank grips Gerard’s wrists and pins them above his head again.

“You’re not gonna get very far fending me off like that, bitch. I know you want this, I can feel how hard your fucking cock is for me right now. Turned on being exposed like this, feeling my hands on you, squeezing these perky little tits.” Frank’s hand comes down swiftly on Gerard’s chest, smacking his nipple with a sharp clap. “You like being treated like the filthy little faggot you are, don’t you?”

Gee was fucking done for. With those words, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his mouth involuntarily opening and tongue slightly sticking out past his teeth. Hearing Frank call him a faggot unlocked something that had been living deep within him, begging to get out. Gerard had always fantasized about letting go of control…that was really what the whole death obsession was about, wasn’t it? Surrendering to the unknown, free-falling towards whatever laid in wait, all that shit. In this moment, he realized it wasn’t about wanting to die, but wanting to submit, be controlled, by something so much more powerful than him. And here he was, getting pinned against the tour bus by his sweet Frankie, the boy he had picked out of the scene to come create a new life with him. Gerard had always known Frank was hot, with his brand of fiery volatility that enraptured everyone who came in contact with him, but had always pushed those feelings down to be able to behave like a normal dude, to be able to create the kind of art he wanted to create with him. The desire was likely there all along, the magnetism… to Frank’s energy, the brightness in those big eyes, the way his hands moved so skillfully across the neck of his guitar. Come to think of it, he had had some dreams…

Frank licked Gerard’s ear, sending shock waves through his system. Letting go of his grip on Gerard’s wrists, he grabbed his waist and began pawing at him hungrily. Frank’s mouth kissed his way down Gee’s neck, his clavicle, and then off to the right to Gee’s armpit. Frank breathed deeply, filling his body and mind with this pungent presence. It tugged at something deep within him, made him feel like he was bonded to this person for life, that he would do anything to serve this man that he had tied up to the outside of the bus. Really, this was a service, to try to save Gerard by any means necessary. Why shouldn’t he have a bit of fun with it while he was at it?

Frank opened his mouth and traced a soft tongue from the bottom of Gerard’s pit, around the edges, soaking up the sweet sweat that had been building for the better part of the week. He then stuck out his tongue and licked bottom-to-top once, twice, three times, feeling his soft hairs and sticky sweet skin. He wanted to drink this man up, every last drop there was. He was going to make Gerard his tonight… mark him in some indelible way that will fuel each of them for the rest of their days.

Gerard squirmed, bucked his hips under Frank as he continued to kiss his armpit. He felt so extremely exposed, but also so seen, so held by the way Frank was approaching his flesh. Gerard knew that he was about to give himself over to this man, in ways he could not yet imagine. Gerard’s cock ached under his pants, harder than it had ever been before.

Frank slowly stopped and moved his face to meet Gerard’s again, their noses touching. He ran one hand through Gee’s hair, and the other one reached down to begin unbuckling his belt, getting ready for what was yet to come. Making fierce eye contact and brandishing a condescending smirk, Frank grew ready to really lay into him. “Bitch, you smell awful.” Gerard was confronted with his smell head-on, face to face. It was so pungent on Frank’s nose and mouth that Gerard almost passed out, first from the smell, then from the shame that washed over him like a wave, emptying him of any meaning or feeling that came before.

“Open your mouth, slut.” Gerard obliged immediately, sticking his tongue out eagerly. Frank spat in Gerard’s mouth and Gerard’s eyes rolled back, his hips swirling again. “Mmm, fuck yeah. It’s time for you to show me what else that mouth can do, bitch. Get on your knees.”

Gerard dropped instantly, his knees knocking on the asphalt, his head rested against the bus. Frank’s cock was right in front of his face, bulging out of his pants. Frank quickly unbuckled his belt, flipping open the button and slowly undoing the fly of his tight black jeans. To Gerard’s surprise, Frank was not wearing any underwear, his cock begging to be released as the fly was lowered. His cock sprung out, erect and already dripping pre-cum. Gerard was hungry and immediately launched himself onto Frank’s cock, first licking up the drop on the head of his cock, and then quickly lowering himself down, sucking his way back up and plunging his way down again. Bert had been teaching him a thing or two, and he was excited to get to show Frankie what he had learned.

Frank let out an audible moan as Gerard latched himself onto his cock. Honestly, Frank was caught off guard; he thought he was going to have to force his way into that talented little throat. After realizing his good fortune, he began to gently rock himself back and forth, thrusting himself down deeper each time Gerard came back down. His movements began to quicken as he became aware of the situation around them; holy shit, they were outside at Warped Tour... Gerard was tied up and sucking his cock… anyone could walk over at any point. Fuck, that turned him on. What if another person wanted to join in? What if Bert went looking for his little plaything? Maybe a sneaky fan would come up and take a photo, immortalizing this fucked up moment forever? The possibility sent shivers down his spine.

Gerard was lost in a hazy bliss as he continued to take Frank deeper and deeper in his throat. His mind went fuzzy, drifting into a trance-like state as he centered on his singular purpose- Frank’s rock hard cock in his mouth. The rhythmic pulse was steady and strong, punctuated by some divine moments when Frank would pause his thrusting and sink himself even deeper down Gerard’s throat. Gerard gazed up, his focus blurry, as everything around him slowly drifted away. He had never seen anything as beautiful as Frank’s face, twisted in a mix of pleasure and deep, deep anger. Now, Gerard’s only purpose in this life was to keep this man satisfied. His duct-taped arms hung down by his chest, frustratingly too high to rub against his cock, but that didn’t stop him from futilely rocking his hips in a desperate attempt to give himself some release.

Frank was in a state of frantic ecstasy, gripping fistfuls of Gerard’s long dark hair from the nape of his neck as he used his throat to its full capacity. He closed his eyes tight out of habit, and as soon as he looked down and caught Gerard’s desperate gaze, a wave of relief overtook him. The absolute devotion that shone back up at him was more than he could have ever asked for. He knew instinctively that Gee understood, that he was going to do anything he could to make Frank proud from that point forward. The relief washed over him, and the sensation deep within his cock crested. He bit his lip, gaze still fixed on Gerard’s beautiful eyes, let out a muffled moan, and released his cum into Gerard’s mouth.

The sensation seemed to collapse time; both boys spun slowly in the balance of everything that had come before, and everything that was going to follow. The importance of this moment, this connection, came crashing down on both of them, transcending the barriers of their skin, their physical connection. Their souls were wedded. They each knew instinctively that this intensity was only going to deepen from here.

Gerard knelt before Frank with a mouth full of cum, savoring the taste, the warm stickiness, the volume. Frank didn’t waste a moment before yanking Gerard up by his jaw, and then swiftly smacking him clear across the face. Gerard gagged and spat the mouthful of cum out, letting it slowly drip down his face, desperately turned on and still rendered absolutely helpless. Frank let out a sharp laugh, wiped the cum off Gerard’s face, and then fed it back to him by shoving his fingers deep down his throat. Gerard felt like he was about to cum himself, completely entranced by the power that Frank wielded over him.

Frank took a moment to catch his breath before launching into the next act; harnessing the sexual power he wielded over Gerard in this moment to cement his point deep within him. Frank brandished a smirk and began laughing to himself, silently, as Gerard struggled to compose himself. “You look so pathetic, covered in my cum, shirt ripped in half, arms taped together, hair a goddamn mess. You can’t even pretend to keep your composure. You can’t even hold my eye contact for fuck’s sake. But oh, Gee, you did such a great job. I feel like you’re finally starting to understand what I need from you. I need your devotion, your servitude, from this point forward. Do you understand me?”

Gerard was squirming, eyes rolling back and then trying to focus again on the man in front of him, cock so tense it was about to implode. He nodded his head enthusiastically and attempted to muster a yes, but he couldn’t make his mouth cooperate. He just drooled on himself again, releasing a mix of spit and cum down his face.

Frank laughed, audibly this time. “Fuck, we need to take care of you, don’t we, baby?” Gerard didn’t even attempt a response this time; he was completely gone. Frank reached down to feel Gerard’s cock through his pants and was shocked at how violently he quivered under his touch. Frank could not wait to get his hand around his cock and make him beg for his release, to fully surrender into his desire. Frank unbuckled Gerard’s belt, undid the zipper and pulled down his pants, exposing his aching cock.

Frank took Gerard’s cock in his hand and smacked his balls with his other, reveling as Gerard convulsed in pain and pleasure. He rubbed the palm of his hand on the tip, covering it in pre-cum, and used that to stroke him firmly up and down. Gerard’s knees began shaking; he nearly collapsed from sheer overwhelm. Frank wanted to hold his pathetic little slut in this state for as long as humanly possible, but knew deep down that Gerard might literally pass out if he kept this up much longer.

Frank pressed his body against Gerard’s and kept a steady rhythm with one hand as he continued to hold Gerard’s taped arms firmly above his head. He was ready to give Gerard what he needed. “Okay, listen up…I’ll only let you cum if you promise to behave, to leave all that bullshit behind. You’re gonna make me proud, aren’t you, Gee? You promise to be a good little slut for me?” Gerard began nodding furiously, attempting to squeak out a yes but only mustering a series of moans that grew louder and louder. He fell into absolute abandon; it didn’t matter who heard; it didn’t matter what happened from this point forward… Everything was exactly as it needed to be, right now.

“Then cum for me, faggot.” Gerard let out a high-pitched moan and released immediately as the words escaped Frank’s mouth. The cum shot straight up in short and intense bursts, landing across his exposed chest and ripped Motörhead shirt. He bucked wildly, thrusting himself into Frank’s tight grip again and again as every ounce of sexual power drained itself from his body. Gerard’s sexual release lent itself to an emotional release, too. The boy started crying; softly at first, and then sobbing deeply to the rhythm of his already convulsing body.

Frank couldn’t believe what he was seeing; something deep cracked within Gerard. He held him in close, and let out a single tear. “Oh Gee, baby… you did a great job. Come on, let’s get you fixed up.” Frank knelt down, bit the duct tape, and ripped it off swiftly. He embraced Gerard as he stood there, bawling his eyes out, covered in both of their cum. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You know I love you, right?”

Gerard looked up at Frank, calmed his heaving body with a few deep breaths, and softly pronounced, “I love you too, Frankie.”

—

On stage the next day, the energy felt different. Not only was Gerard sober, but there was a newfound electricity in their performance that was palpable for the band and crowd alike. Halfway through the set, something overtook Gerard. In between verses, he moved close to Frank, grabbed his face, his hair, and kissed him for everyone to see. Frank looked at him, shocked, but also so deeply moved by this public display of affection. There was no room for shame anymore.

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