
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/344747.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      My_Chemical_Romance
  Relationship:
      Frank_Iero/Gerard_Way
  Character:
      Frank_Iero, Gerard_Way
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Religion, Age_Difference, Rape/Non-con_Elements
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-02-22 Words: 2640
****** Name in Vain ******
by willgrahamchops
Summary
     Frank corners Mr. Way one day after the lecture. He&#x2019;s supposed
     to be walking home, but his parents will probably be proud that he
     wants to stay late and talk about Jesus or whatever.
     Shameless porn, in which Gerard leads youth group and is incredibly
     unqualified.
Frank used to hate youth group. He hated lectures; he hated the other kids; he
hated the cross-shaped mints they got when they answered a question right, and
most of all, he hated the stupid, stuffy old group leader, Mr. Harrison.
He&#x2019;s not sure where Mr. Harrison is now. Probably dead. He was about a
hundred and fifty anyway.
And now it&#x2019;s run by Mr. Way, who is cool and likes comics and looks so
out of place in his pullover robe that Frank&#x2019;s not sure where he came
from or how he ended up here. Frank listens to the lectures now, and he sits up
front, in front of Billy Fucking Hart, the fat ugly bald kid who steals
Frank&#x2019;s mints. From his vantage point, Frank can see Mr. Way&#x2019;s
notes and see what&#x2019;s coming next, and more importantly, he can see the
doodles all over his papers.
Frank corners Mr. Way one day after the lecture. He&#x2019;s supposed to be
walking home, but his parents will probably be proud that he wants to stay late
and talk about Jesus or whatever.
&#x201C;Hey,&#x201D; he says shyly. Mr. Way, who is busy cleaning up the mint
wrappers on the floor, pauses and turns to Frank.
&#x201C;Hello?&#x201D; He says. &#x201C;Can I help you with something?&#x201D;
&#x201C;Um.&#x201D; Frank isn&#x2019;t quite sure what he wants to say; he just
knows that he wants to maybe. Like. Hang out. He knows that Mr. Way seems to
like him a lot, with how he draws little dragons and things on Frank&#x2019;s
prayerbook before he passes it back, and he always calls on Frank first when he
raises his hand, and he tells Frank how great he is at all this Bible stuff.
That doesn&#x2019;t mean Frank knows what to say.
But Mr. Way knows what to say, and that&#x2019;s nice.
&#x201C;Would you like a cup of coffee?&#x201D; He asks Frank, tossing his
handful of wrappers in the trash.
And wow, Frank really, really does. His parents don&#x2019;t let him have
coffee. It makes him bounce off the walls, they say. Frank thinks it&#x2019;s
pretty arbitrary. &#x201C;Yeah,&#x201D; he says, grinning. &#x201C;That would
be great.&#x201D;
The coffee is already brewed -- Frank knows, because the whole room smells of
it all the time, and Mr. Way keeps the pot on his desk because there&#x2019;s
nowhere else to put it. At least he has a desk. The kids just have to sit in a
cluster at his feet.
He takes one sip and winces. It&#x2019;s not too hot, but it&#x2019;s bitter,
nothing like how it smells. He forces a smile, and Mr. Way smiles back.
&#x201C;I was interested to see that you included me in your prayers this
week,&#x201D; says Mr. Way.
Frank goes red immediately. He completely forgot about that.
See, they&#x2019;re supposed to list people and things they want to pray for in
their book each week, so they don&#x2019;t forget, and Mr. Way collects them.
Mr. Harrison didn&#x2019;t use to read them, but Mr. Way does. He reads
Frank&#x2019;s, at least.
&#x201C;You wrote that you hoped I would have a happy week,&#x201D; says Mr.
Way. &#x201C;That&#x2019;s very sweet of you.&#x201D;
Mr. Way sits down in his chair, which is in front of his desk. It&#x2019;s
where he sits when he lectures and when they have group discussions. When they
paint and do crafts -- they do a lot of crafts, now that Mr. Way runs the group
-- he sits behind his desk, but otherwise, the chair stays here.
His hair falls in his face, and he keeps brushing it out again. &#x201C;Come
here,&#x201D; says Mr. Way. He pats his lap.
Frank hesitates, but Mr. Way immediately extends his hand, and Frank
doesn&#x2019;t have much choice but to take it. He gingerly positions himself
on Mr. Way&#x2019;s lap.
&#x201C;My week is much better already, now that you&#x2019;re here,&#x201D; he
says. &#x201C;So I guess your prayer was answered.&#x201D;
Frank smiles shyly. He doesn&#x2019;t know what to do with his hands. Mr. Way
is holding his tie, keeping their faces close, and he can really see the bags
under Mr. Way&#x2019;s eyes from here. It must be from all the coffee, he
thinks. Frank&#x2019;s coffee sits abandoned on the desk.
Mr. Way strokes Frank&#x2019;s hair with his other hand, gently trailing it
down his neck to the small of his back. &#x201C;You&#x2019;re so beautiful,
Frankie,&#x201D; he says.
Frank doesn&#x2019;t know what to say. He squirms a little, not exactly trying
to get away, but not particularly comfortable. He puts his hands on Mr.
Way&#x2019;s shoulders. Except, Mr. Way takes this as a cue to pull
Frank&#x2019;s tie, bringing their faces together.
Frank isn&#x2019;t stupid; he knows what this is. This is kissing. This
isn&#x2019;t supposed to happen.
Mr. Way pulls back. &#x201C;Open your mouth,&#x201D; he says.
Frank doesn&#x2019;t know why he does it, but he does, and then their lips are
together again and Mr. Way slides his tongue into Frank&#x2019;s mouth, hot and
slick and wrong. Frank makes a tiny sound of discontent. Mr. Way moves to his
lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and working the skin between his teeth,
making Frank yelp.
He&#x2019;s out of breath when they separate again. Mr. Way brushes the hair
out of Frank&#x2019;s face and presses a thumb to his lower lip.
&#x201C;So responsive,&#x201D; he says, mostly to himself. &#x201C;I like you,
Frankie. And I want you to like me too.&#x201D;
Frank twists away from his hand, but he&#x2019;s still trapped by the one on
the small of his back.
&#x201C;You want to get up?&#x201D; Mr. Way asks. He removes his hands.
&#x201C;Go ahead. But don&#x2019;t leave, okay?&#x201D; And when Frank stands
up, unsteady, he stands up too. He&#x2019;s so much taller than Frank.
&#x201C;Okay,&#x201D; Frank says uncertainly. He&#x2019;s not sure what to do
with himself. He doesn&#x2019;t want to leave, he thinks. He&#x2019;s warm from
head to toe.
Mr. Way steps over to the desk and puts Frank&#x2019;s coffee on the floor,
along with the pot and a few empty cups. &#x201C;C&#x2019;mere,&#x201D; he
says, gesturing to the desk. And then his arms are around Frank and he lifts
him up onto the top of it, and Frank sort of sprawls out there, supporting
himself on his elbows. Mr. Way leans in close until Frank can feel his breath
against his cheek. &#x201C;I wanna do something with you, okay? Because
you&#x2019;re my favorite kid.&#x201D;
&#x201C;Your favorite?&#x201D;
&#x201C;Yeah,&#x201D; he says. &#x201C;So this is special, just between
us.&#x201D; And Frank thinks he knows what&#x2019;s coming, though he&#x2019;s
not sure exactly how Mr. Way plans to make it work or even how he feels about
it, but he wants to. He wants to know.
&#x201C;Okay,&#x201D; says Frank.
Mr. Way smiles at him, and it&#x2019;s warm and happy, like Frank really is his
favorite. He&#x2019;s still smiling when he hooks his thumbs in Frank&#x2019;s
slacks and works them down off his hips. Frank wriggles to help him, and then
he has to toe off his shoes, and eventually he&#x2019;s left with just one sock
and his underwear, and Mr. Way pulls off the sock.
Frank shivers as Mr. Way runs hands up his thighs. He has small hands, for a
guy, soft except for the fingertips, which are calloused.
&#x201C;I want you to call me Gerard,&#x201D; says Mr. Way.
&#x201C;Oh,&#x201D; says Frank, for lack of something better. &#x201C;Okay.
Gerard.&#x201D; The name feels strange in his mouth, but Gerard seems to like
it, because he closes his eyes briefly and sighs. He strokes further up
Frank&#x2019;s thighs and begins rubbing him though his underwear, and -- oh,
oh God. Frank squeaks.
Gerard smiles. &#x201C;How&#x2019;s that feel?&#x201D;
Frank doesn&#x2019;t know how it feels. &#x201C;Um,&#x201D; he stutters.
&#x201C;Um, ah--&#x201D; and he can&#x2019;t focus with Gerard touching him
there, grinding his palm into Frank.
&#x201C;Do you like that?&#x201D;
&#x201C;Y-yeah,&#x201D; says Frank. He thinks he does.
He whimpers when Gerard stops, but then Gerard removes his underwear too, and
yeah, Frank definitely knows where this was going.
He wraps a hand around Frank, who&#x2019;s half-hard and can&#x2019;t keep
still, squirming and bucking under Gerard&#x2019;s touch. It feels so good that
he barely notices Gerard&#x2019;s other hand creeping lower. That is, he
doesn&#x2019;t notice until Gerard shoves a finger inside.
Frank all but screams at the intrusion, wide-eyed and confused. It burns, hurts
so bad, and Gerard keeps whispering &#x201C;shh, you&#x2019;re okay;
you&#x2019;re okay, Frankie&#x201D; and stroking him, though Frank&#x2019;s
gone soft now.
&#x201C;Why--?&#x201D; Frank asks, blinking back tears.
&#x201C;This is going to hurt,&#x201D; says Gerard. He suddenly seems a lot
less friendly. &#x201C;But you&#x2019;ve gotta take it for me, okay? You have
to do what I say.&#x201D;
&#x201C;Or what?&#x201D; Frank spits. He doesn&#x2019;t know why he let Gerard
do it in the first place.
Gerard&#x2019;s eyes go dark. &#x201C;Or I&#x2019;ll tell your parents. If
anyone finds out, you can get in big trouble.&#x201D;
Frank wants to fight back, but he bites his lip. What if his parents find out
he kissed Gerard? He wouldn&#x2019;t be allowed back in youth group, and they
would make him go to a different church and he&#x2019;d be in trouble. They
could ground him basically forever.
&#x201C;You understand?&#x201D; Gerard asks.
Frank nods. He gets it.
Gerard twists his finger, and Frank gasps sharply. &#x201C;Go ahead and
scream,&#x201D; says Gerard. &#x201C;Everybody&#x2019;s gone.&#x201D;
But Frank isn&#x2019;t going to scream, because Gerard said he should be able
to take this. Even when Gerard shoves a second finger inside him, Frank just
holds his breath and looks up at him defiantly. Except, he starts twisting, and
Frank makes noise -- just a tiny little gasp. Gerard smiles at him.
Frank&#x2019;s not quite sure what those smiles mean.
&#x201C;You know what goes in here?&#x201D; Asks Gerard, twisting his fingers
harshly. And Jesus Christ, it hurts.
Frank shakes his head silently, still biting back his cries.
To his horror, Gerard unzips his pants.
&#x201C;No,&#x201D; Frank says quietly. &#x201C;No, Mr. Way, please--&#x201D;
&#x201C;I told you to call me Gerard,&#x201D; he says absently, shoving his
underwear down to his knees. He&#x2019;s still smiling, very pleased with
himself.
Frank sighs in relief when Gerard removes his fingers, but the respite is
short-lived. Gerard spits in his hand, slicks himself up, and shoves awkwardly
against Frank. On the third try, it slips in, and then he buries himself
completely in one quick stroke. Frank can&#x2019;t hold it back. He screams.
&#x201C;Please, no, oh God,&#x201D; Frank whimpers.
Gerard isn&#x2019;t moving yet, but he widens his eyes in reprehension.
&#x201C;Frank,&#x201D; he says. &#x201C;I thought I taught you better than to
use our Lord&#x2019;s name in vain.&#x201D;
Frank bares his teeth. He knows, he knows Gerard could tell his parents, but
he&#x2019;s so angry-- &#x201C;Fuck you,&#x201D; he spits. It&#x2019;s the
worst thing he can think of.
Then Gerard grabs his hips with surprising force and thrusts again, so hard
that the desk lurches under their weight. Frank groans in pain. &#x201C;Please,
please -- I&#x2019;m sorry, please stop--&#x201D; but Gerard doesn&#x2019;t
listen, just keeps slamming into him, keeps rocking the desk and tearing Frank
open from the inside. Frank feels like a ragdoll, no longer in control of his
body, splitting at the seams.
He realizes that relaxing his muscles makes it hurt less, so he tries to do
that. Gerard doesn&#x2019;t seem to like it, though. He slips an arm under
Frank&#x2019;s shoulders and lifts his head off the desk, holding him close.
His grip tightens on Frank&#x2019;s hips.
&#x201C;You feel so good,&#x201D; Gerard whispers. His breath is hot against
Frank&#x2019;s face and Frank can&#x2019;t get away, can&#x2019;t relax
anymore. He doesn&#x2019;t answer, resting his head on Gerard&#x2019;s
shoulder.
The hand holding his hips snakes between their bodies and Gerard starts
fondling him. It still feels as good as it did at first, but he can&#x2019;t
concentrate on that over the burning pain.
&#x201C;You like this too,&#x201D; says Gerard. &#x201C;You love getting
fucked.&#x201D;
Frank tries to shake his head, as if it will do any good.
&#x201C;Just agree,&#x201D; Gerard advises with a small chuckle.
&#x201C;It&#x2019;ll be over faster that way.&#x201D;
He slows his pace, stroking Frank more quickly. &#x201C;You know I don&#x2019;t
want to hurt you,&#x201D; he says. &#x201C;I like you a lot, Frankie. I just
want to share this with you. But it&#x2019;s easier now, isn&#x2019;t it?
Doesn&#x2019;t hurt as much?&#x201D;
&#x201C;Yeah,&#x201D; Frank says softly. And it doesn&#x2019;t hurt as much, or
at least he&#x2019;s gotten used to the pain. He&#x2019;s acutely aware of
Gerard&#x2019;s size, how completely full he feels. Each thrust seems to press
against his insides, shoving his heart up into his throat and making it harder
to breathe, and he&#x2019;s never been this close to anybody, not ever.
&#x201C;I&#x2019;m sorry I have to hurt you.&#x201D;
And Frank wants to say no, you didn&#x2019;t have to, you&#x2019;re not sorry,
but he wants it to be over more so he agrees, like Gerard told him.
&#x201C;It&#x2019;s okay,&#x201D; Frank says. It&#x2019;s hard to force enough
air into his lungs.
When Gerard speeds up again, it doesn&#x2019;t hurt quite as much. He feels
slicker.
Tentatively, he jerks his hips up into Gerard&#x2019;s hand. He doesn&#x2019;t
want this to feel good, but it does -- it really does, especially when Gerard
strokes him harder, breathing heavily above him.
Frank moans unintelligibly.
&#x201C;Feel good?&#x201D; Gerard asks, breathless.
&#x201C;Yeah,&#x201D; Frank says, and it&#x2019;s not a lie this time.
&#x201C;Beg,&#x201D; says Gerard.
Frank tries to pull back and see his face, but Gerard doesn&#x2019;t let him.
&#x201C;What do you mean?&#x201D; He asks.
&#x201C;If you want more, you have to ask for it,&#x201D; says Gerard.
And Frank goes hot all over, because he can&#x2019;t. He can&#x2019;t ask for
this. He doesn&#x2019;t want it. But then Gerard stops touching him but keeps
thrusting into him, and Frank gets this horrible sinking feeling and he has to
do it.
&#x201C;Um,&#x201D; he stutters, &#x201C;p-please? Um, touch me.&#x201D;
Gerard laughs quietly in his ear. He runs his free hand lightly down
Frank&#x2019;s side, teasing him, going nowhere near where Frank wants him.
&#x201C;Is this what you want?&#x201D;
&#x201C;No,&#x201D; Frank groans. &#x201C;No, please. Touch me. Um. Like you
were. Please.&#x201D;
&#x201C;You want me to jerk you off,&#x201D; Gerard supplies.
&#x201C;Yes,&#x201D; Frank moans. Something&#x2019;s building inside him.
He&#x2019;s desperate. &#x201C;Jerk me off, please.&#x201D; He wracks his
brain, trying to remember what Gerard had called it before. &#x201C;Please, f-
fuck me.&#x201D;
Gerard groans above him and instinctively grabs Frank again, stroking him hard
and fast. &#x201C;That. Again,&#x201D; he grunts.
&#x201C;Fuck me, Gerard, please,&#x201D; Frank whimpers. He doesn&#x2019;t want
this to end, not anymore, but he&#x2019;s also racing toward some sort of
finish and he doesn&#x2019;t want to slow down.
&#x201C;Yeah,&#x201D; Gerard moans. &#x201C;Fuck yeah, Frankie. So fucking
tight--&#x201D;
Gerard almost stills, buried deep in Frank, hips stuttering.
&#x201C;No,&#x201D; Frank says. &#x201C;No, don&#x2019;t stop,&#x201D; but
Gerard stops, gripping Frank almost too tightly. Frank feels a sting and a rush
of wet heat as Gerard pulls out.
There are a few moments of silence, and then Frank opens his eyes, and
there&#x2019;s Gerard&#x2019;s dick, streaked with red. It takes Frank a moment
to realize that he&#x2019;s seeing his own blood. He&#x2019;s briefly revolted,
but then Gerard shoves two fingers inside him -- ow ow ow -- and starts
stroking him again.
&#x201C;Gerard, please, please,&#x201D; he whimpers on repeat as Gerard
finishes him off. It only takes a few strokes before Frank comes, eyes open,
watching Gerard&#x2019;s lazy smile. He only lets his eyes drift shut once
it&#x2019;s over, completely drained.
&#x201C;So beautiful, Frankie,&#x201D; Gerard whispers near his face. &#x201C;I
like you like this, but I have to clean you up. Can&#x2019;t send you home with
my come dripping down your thighs.&#x201D;
&#x201C;Yeah,&#x201D; Frank agrees, not even listening. A few moments later,
there&#x2019;s a tissue against his thigh and Gerard is carefully wiping the
mess away, though it doesn&#x2019;t eliminate the sting.
&#x201C;Up, up,&#x201D; says Gerard. &#x201C;Get dressed. We can talk next
week.&#x201D;
&#x201C;Yeah,&#x201D; Frank says complacently. &#x201C;Next week.&#x201D;
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