Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/296237. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Bandom, My_Chemical_Romance Relationship: Michael_Pedicone/Gerard_Way Additional Tags: Belts, Blow_Jobs, Bukkake, Whipping, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Dom/sub, Alternate_Universe_-_BDSM Series: Part 13 of Slantverse Stats: Published: 2011-12-19 Words: 1769 ****** Belts Are Not Boring ****** by Gala_and_Elle, theletterelle Summary Pedicone relieves Gerard's boredom. "I'm bored," announces Gerard. Music thumps against the back of his head. "You're never bored," says Pedicone. His missile takes out two Super Mutants at once. "Work on your ANAA stuff." "Administration won't let it go further till I get a teacher to sponsor it," says Gerard grumpily. "I asked Mr. Hall, Ms. Archer, and even Mr. Howard. Everyone's too busy. I think they're prejudiced. It's bullshit. Jesus, Mikey," he calls out, “turn that fucking down.” "Do you even know any non-actives?" asks Pedicone, gutting a Raider with his lawnmower blade. "Personally?" Gerard sighs and throws himself down on the bed. "I would if they'd tell me they were. No one will, even though they know I'd totally accept them. I mean, how could they not know that?" Privately, Pedicone thinks they're more worried that Gerard will throw them a coming-out party. "Then read. I don't know, dude, come on, I'm leveling up here." "You could do something to me." Gerard rolls over. "Fine. Go stand in the corner." "That doesn't work every time, Pedicone." Pedicone pauses the game and puts down the controller. He twists around to look at Gerard. "Go stand in the corner," he says deliberately, "until I figure out what I'm going to do to you." The surprise on Gerard's face is almost funny. "Oh," he says, for once at a loss for words. "Okay then. Should I take off my clothes?" "Not yet," says Pedicone. He picks up his game again. "Wait, yeah. Take off your shirt and socks. I hate it when you wear socks during sex." Normally Gerard would snark back, but he's already sinking into subspace, so he skins off his socks and shirt and goes to wait in the corner by the door. He waits a long time. Pedicone levels up at least twice while Gerard is standing there. Gerard starts tapping his feet and sighing. He has to sigh pretty loud to be heard over the music. "Quiet while you're in the corner," says Pedicone, focused on the TV. "You know the rules." "It's no talking while I'm in the corner," Gerard points out. "Not no sound whatsoever." "Well, now you're talking," Pedicone says. "Take off the rest of your clothes. Your time starts over now." "There was time?" "There was. Now you've restarted the clock. Get your clothes off and this time keep your mouth shut." Pedicone sounds low and rough, sexy rather than mean. Gerard obeys. He stays quiet, even though it seems like forever that Pedicone's going to play. He focuses on submitting, on waiting until his dom chooses to do something. Deep breaths, in and out with the beat, and he's drifting down into subspace again, that place where his mind relaxes and lets go, where he’s not doing anything but anticipating Pedicone’s actions. It’s quiet there, and when Pedicone comes up behind him and puts his hands on Gerard’s hips, the only sound Gee makes is a soft hum as he leans back into Pedicone’s arms. “Know what I’mma do to you?” Pedicone whispers in Gerard’s ear. Gerard shakes his head. “I’m gonna bend you over the bed.” Pedicone’s tongue flicks into Gerard’s ear. “I’m gonna take off my belt, and I’m gonna whip you with it until you come all over the sheets.” Gerard moans. Pedicone shakes him. “Hush up. Then you’re gonna clean it up with your tongue, all of it, hear me?” Gerard whines, nods. Yes, please, yes, all of that, everything. Pedicone draws away from him. “Bed,” he orders. Gerard moves to the bed and bends over the side, arching his back so his ass is up. Pedicone gives it a slap. “Slut,” he says affectionately. Gerard hears his belt unbuckle, hears the whoosh as it’s pulled through the loops, and shivers. The snap cuts through the thump of the bass from Mikey’s stereo. Gerard jumps at the first few blows, before he settles into the rhythm of the whipping. It’s not painful really; it flushes him, warms him, makes his body tingle and his muscles relax. His mind sinks further down into pure sensation. As the strength of Pedicone’s blows increases, Gerard begins to moan. It’s a sound somewhere between pain and sex. Mikey’s music jumps in volume. Gerard begins to giggle. “No laughing,” says Pedicone, but he doesn’t sound mad. It makes Gerard giggle harder.   “Laughing,” says Pedicone, “is not sexy.” He whaps the belt hard against Gerard’s thighs. It’s surprising and painful, and makes his balls draw up tight against his body. He moans again. “That’s better,” says Pedicone. “I’m sorry,” Gerard pants. He’s not, really. “Please don’t do that again.” Of course, Pedicone does. Gerard knew he would if he was given the right encouragement. The belt thwacks against his thighs, his ass again, back to his thighs, turning him red from below his lower back to just above his knees. It’s deliriously arousing. Gerard’s dick has long strings leaking from it; he knows how he’ll be cleaning it up, and that makes him even harder. He thrusts forward to find relief, but there’s nothing but air, nothing to rub up against. “I can’t,” he groans. “I know what you said, but I can’t, if-- ow, ow, fuck, ow-- can I touch myself? Please?” “No,” says Pedicone, never breaking rhythm. Gerard waits for a qualifier, a not unless or only if, but there’s nothing, just No. He whines and thrusts against the air again. The belt never stops. “I’ll suck your cock,” Gerard begs. “I’ll do it really well, just the way you like it, I’ll go down till I gag and I’ll keep-- ow, fuck-- I’ll keep going, I don’t need to breathe, please--” “No,” Pedicone says again. “No touching.” The belt almost catches Gerard across the balls, and Gerard squeaks and presses his thighs together. “Hey.” Pedicone stops. Gerard spreads his legs back open. Stopping is the last thing he wants. “I’m sorry,” he gasps. “Sorry, didn’t mean to, sorry, please don’t stop.” There’s a pause, then the belt resumes its rhythm. “If I have to stop again,” Pedicone warns, “you’re going back in the corner, and you’re not coming for the rest of the week.” “Ow, ow, you won’t,” Gerard says. “I swear.” It’s getting more painful; the burn is growing, and though Gerard knows he can take a lot more, he is so turned on that his eyes are crossed. If he doesn’t get to come soon, his dick might just give up and drop off. He talks to distract himself. “God, goddamn, it’s good, it feels so good, please, please, please let me come.” Oh. Well, that was no distraction. Gerard’s head sags between his arms. “Please!” “Stay--” Pedicone grunts as he brings the belt down hard-- “quiet.” Gerard almost wails. He’s not sure he can. He talks. It’s who he is, and pain and sex aren’t enough to diminish his words. But orders are, if he takes them seriously. He bites down on his lips and concentrates on the wrinkles his fists make in the sheets. Even when Pedicone begins to breathe heavily from the effort, Gerard manages to keep his sounds confined to a thin keening through his nose. Finally, “Good boy,” says Pedicone, “you’re being good for me now, aren’t you?” Gerard, mindful of his instructions, nods his head vigorously. His ass and thighs burn like fire. The belt slows, but each whack slaps tenderized skin, and Gerard has to bite down on his yells. Oh God, he wants to come. He can’t even beg for it. “If you can stay good like this for the next twenty,” Pedicone continues, “I’ll let you rub against the bed. You want to come like that, don’t you?” Gerard nods again. Please, please, please... Pedicone counts each blow, and each one is hard, jarring Gerard’s entire body. When he’s finished, Pedicone places a hand on his lower back and presses him down onto the bed, a place Gerard’s only happy to go. As soon as his dick touches the sheets, he begins to thrust. The stinging pain and the long buildup of arousal combine, and it doesn’t take him long till he gives a guttural groan and comes between his belly and the sheets. Eyes shut tight, he rubs and shudders until he’s so sensitive he wants to cry. Pedicone’s hands guide him to his knees and press his head to the bed. Obediently, Gerard sticks out his tongue to lick up what he’s left, but it’s not long before Pedicone lifts his head up and pushes him to turn around. Gerard looks up, and Pedicone smiles. “You promised,” he says. Gerard gives him a spaced-out smile. “Yeah,” he replies. Pedicone undoes his jeans, and Gerard reaches in. He goes down instantly, sucking on Pedicone’s dick like it’s the last cigarette he’ll ever be allowed. A deep breath, and he lets it hit the back of his throat. He gags, like he knew he would, and forces his head further down. Another gag, and it’s in his throat, Pedicone’s cock is in his throat, Pedicone is snarling and swearing with a fist in Gerard’s hair, and he’s so absurdly proud of himself that he wants to cheer. But he lied about one thing; he does need air. He pulls back enough to gasp in a few breaths, then plunges back down. He tries hard, he does, but after the third time gagging, he feels like he might throw up, and that is not sexy in the least. “Sorry,” he chokes, “no more like that.” The fist in his hair becomes a caress. “It’s okay,” says Pedicone, “just do what you do. It’s okay. You’re a good boy.” Given approval, Gerard goes to town, sucking and licking from the tip of Pedicone’s dick down to his balls and back up again. Pedicone has more self- control than anyone Gerard knows, but even he has to fail eventually. Gerard is good at this. When Pedicone’s balls pull up and his breathing becomes erratic, he grabs Gerard’s hair and pulls his head back. He comes that way, spattering against Gerard’s face. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever done to him. Gerard feels owned, the way Nate is, the way he can tell Brendon’s going to be. Pedicone sits on the bed and pats Gerard’s head. “You are so good.” Gerard glows with the praise. He wonders how red his ass is now. He wonders if he has bruises. He wonders if he’ll be able to sit down tomorrow. Maybe if he’s standing during lunch, people will actually listen when he talks. That would be nice. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!