
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/270416.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      My_Chemical_Romance, Bandom
  Relationship:
      Frank_Iero/Gerard_Way
  Character:
      Frank_Iero, Gerard_Way
  Additional Tags:
      Hand_Jobs, Blue_Balls, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-10-29 Words: 1086
****** (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction ******
by ohnoktcsk
Summary
     The thing is, ever since Gerard broke his hand three weeks ago,
     literally all he has done is whine. Frank decides to take one for the
     team and help him out.
Notes
     Written for gala_apples's prompt at celtic_cookie's Unofficial_Pan-
     Fandom_Musician_RPF_Jerk-Off_Spectacular!
     The original prompt was, "high school au: someone has a broken arm.
     After much, much bitching, a friend decides it's better to jerk off
     __ then listen to them continue to bitch about how they haven't
     gotten off in THREE WEEKS I COULD DIE I'M PRETTY SURE THIS IS NOT
     OKAY FOR MY BALLS, THEY COULD LIKE HEMMORHAGE FROM TOO MUCH SEMEN
     LOCKED INSIDE, RIGHT?"
"Alright, that is fucking it," Frank declares. He mutes the tv and dives for
Gerard's fly.
Gerard squawks and flails, which is even more of a dangerous situation than
usual, due to the bright pink cast on Gerard's right arm.
(Frank had been surprised—it kind of clashed with Gerard's overal aesthetic—but
Gerard had pointed out that it was way harder to draw on a black cast. Frank
had pointed out that Gerard had broken his right hand, and he was right-handed,
so how was he going to draw anything? And Gerard had thrown a dirty sock at his
face.)
So Frank almost takes a shot to the head, but he ducks, and grabs at Gerard's
zipper with a crow of victory.
"Holy shit, Frank, what the fuck are you doing?" Gerard demands, eyes wide and
a little wild and hair going everywhere. He looks like a crazy person.
Which, considering he apparently hasn't gotten off at all in three weeks? Is
probably an accurate description.
"I am taking one for the goddamn team and jacking you off before you kill the
rest of us with your fucking whining," Frank says, and he jams his hand into
Gerard's shorts.
The thing is, ever since Gerard broke his hand three weeks ago, literally all
he has done is whine.
He whines about not being able to draw (and throws gross socks at Frank's
face), he whines about how hard it is to get dressed and lace up his favorite
boots, he whines about having to turn the pages of his comic books with his
left hand. But most of all? He whines about not being able to jerk off.
To hear Gerard tell it, he is not long for this world, because he is going to
die from the world's most epic case of blue balls. And Frank gets it, okay?
He's a teenager too. He loves jerking off, and he would probably be just as
bitchy as Gerard if he broke his fucking hand.
But the whining is driving Frank crazy, and he knows the other guys are feeling
it, too. That's why it's just him and Gee tonight for horror movie Thursday.
And hey, Frank is nothing if not a dude who can tell a golden opportunity when
he sees one.
He is going to jack Gerard off for the motherfucking greater good.
Gerard makes another sound like a dying bird and tries to squirm away, but
Frank is a scrappy motherfucker, and anyway, the second that Frank gets a
handful of Gerard's dick, Gerard makes a very different sound and Frank grins.
It isn't even all that weird, jacking a dick that's not his own.
"Frank," Gerard says, sounding strained. "Seriously, like—what—"
"Shut up," Frank tells him, cheerfully. He realizes that he needs more room to
maneuver and he shoves roughly at Gerard's jeans and boxers, until they're
further down Gerard's legs.
Gerard makes another sort of protesting noise, but Gerard's dick is definitely
not protesting the proceedings. It's a little longer than Frank's, he thinks,
but it's not as thick, so Frank still feels pretty good about things. And the
way that Gerard's pushing his hips up into Frank's fist is pretty obvious.
Frank grins triumphantly and tightens his grip a little, changes his angle,
speeds up.
"Good?" he asks Gerard, because he wants some feedback.
Gerard's eyes are actually drifting shut, and he's making these short little
choked-off moaning noises. It's kind of weirdly hot, but Frank reminds himself
sternly that this is for the greater good. He can jerk himself off later.
Still, he wants to know. "Good?" he repeats, and when Gerard doesn't respond
Frank uses his free hand to flick Gerard's nipple through his ratty t-shirt.
"Come on, fucker, I'm trying to give you a hand, here!"
"Fuck!" Gerard gasps, and his dick twitches in Frank's hand. Huh. Interesting.
Frank flicks Gerard's nipple again, and Gerard arches up into Frank's grip like
a cat.
"You're, ah, you're fucking insane," Gerard manages. His hips are twitching
faster now, and there's pre-come slicking his dick, making Frank's hand slide
easier.
Frank frowns. He's totally not insane. "I'm not insane!" he protests. He
reaches down to Gerard's balls and rolls them around in his hand, the way that
he likes to do when he's jerking himself off, and Gerard gasps.
"Seriously, who fucking—oh, Frankie, oh fuck—"
Gerard hasn't had an orgasm in three weeks, so Frank's not actually that
surprised when Gerard comes barely a minute later. He's kind of turned
on—because wow, Gerard sort of looks like porn when he comes, fluttering his
eyelashes and biting his lip—and he's also kind of grossed out, because his
hand is covered in Gerard's come.
He wipes it off on Gerard's sheets. It's not like they've never had Gerard's
jizz on them before, he bets.
"Motherfucker," says Gerard, after a minute where all he does is pant. He lolls
his head to the side to look at Frank, like he can't even muster the energy to
lift it properly. Frank isn't going to lie, he totally feels like a stud.
"So, are you going to quit being a bitch now?" Frank asks him.
Gerard actually fucking giggles. Apparently orgasms sort of melt his brain.
Frank, god help him, thinks it's pretty adorable. He rolls his eyes and grabs
the sheet (avoiding the wet spot where he'd wiped Gerard's come) and pulls it
up over Gerard's junk, and then he grabs the remote and unmutes The Evil Dead.
After a few minutes, Gerard starts squirming around, presumably pulling up his
pants. Then he says, low, "You didn't have to do that."
Frank rolls his eyes again. "I totally did. Seriously, another day and Bob was
going to kill you dead, and then we wouldn't have anybody to be our DM."
Gerard snorts. He still sounds a little floaty, and his lower lip is kind of
swollen where he'd bitten it. That's probably what makes Frank say, "So, next
time you're about to explode from blue balls, fucking tell me and I'll help you
out, okay? Way less messy."
Gerard giggles again, like a total dork, and angles himself so he's leaning
against Frank's side, a little. "Okay," he says. "You are a crazy motherfucker,
but—okay. Thanks. I mean, uh. Thanks."
"You're fucking welcome," Frank says. He wiggles around so he's more
comfortable—and maybe sort of under Gerard's arm—and he congratulates himself
on a job well done.
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