Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/844721.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      My_Chemical_Romance
  Relationship:
      Frank_Iero/Gerard_Way
  Character:
      Gerard_Way, Frank_Iero
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Dirty_Talk, Phone_Sex, PWP
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-06-16 Words: 1314
****** Don't Leave Me Hanging on the Telephone ******
by my99centdreams
Summary
     Frank's a phone sex operator and Gerard is a really horny seventeen
     year old. PWP basically.
Gerard’s got the kind of horny to lonely to drunk ratio that, if he's being
honest, comes around too fucking often for his liking. He'd blame his actions
on being so utterly fucked up, but he's done stupider things while completely
sober (he's just not exactly sure when the last time he was, you know, sober)
so that's out. Whatever, Gerard's too good for the whole blame game bullshit.
The point is, his dick's hard and porn's boring. What's a guy to do?
He grips the debit card his parents got him for his birthday in his palm
tightly, plastic heating up as he reads off the numbers on the back of the card
to the automated voice on the line, his free hand wrapped loosely around his
cock, jacking it slowly.
And while Gerard may be too old for the blame game, he's not so sure about even
being old enough for a phone sex line. He really can't believe he's going
through with this.
He gets put on hold while they check the card to make sure it's legitimate. He
finds himself humming - really more like whining - along to the mindless tune
as he grinds against his hand. Fuck, he doesn't think he's ever been this
fucking hard before.
He just, he just fucking needs.
His hair's plastered to his neck and cheeks, mouth getting a little sore from
how hard he's biting his lips. He tries not to think about what he looks like,
black sheets sticking to his back, underwear twisted around his ankle, chest
rising and falling a little too quickly for someone who's barely touching their
dick. And it's so hot in his room; the air conditioner broke last night - in
the middle of a fucking heat wave - and the shitty fan in the corner of his
room isn’t doing anything special, just pushing the muggy air around.
It's fucking horrible; it's like he's got fucking liquid heat thrumming under
his skin, making him pant and arch off the bed.
Maybe he's in heat? Like, pon farr or something? Because that would make way
more sense, and Gerard definitely couldn't be held responsible for his actions
if he was going through pon farr. It'd also explain why he's suddenly grown the
fucking balls to try calling a phone sex line instead of just sucking it up and
rubbing one out as fast as possible.
Just the thought of finally getting to come sets him off again and he's
thrusting his hips up, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he worries his bottom
lip between his teeth. He gets so lost in the feel of it all, the warm heat
pooling in his belly and the slick sounds his hand's making, that he almost
doesn't hear it when someone takes him off hold and laughs, "Uh, hello?"
"Fuck," Gerard squeaks, cheeks turning beet red. He forces himself to take his
hand off his dick. "Yeah - uh - hi."
"You start without me?" And, honestly, it doesn’t sound as sexy as Gerard
thought it would, but, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t moan a little, teeth biting
down hard on his lip to shut himself up. The guy on the line laughs, not mean
or anything, just happy and soft, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
"Um," Gerard says helpfully.
"Man, you must be really desperate, huh? You mind if I ask how old you are?"
"Eighteen," he lies. He actually won't be eighteen for another month, but this
guy doesn't need to know that.
The guy laughs again, "Oh man, I remember those days. Anything would set me
off. I used to have, like, jerk off marathons when my mom wasn't home. I'm
Frank, by the way."
Gerard doesn't tell him his name because he's a paranoid idiot, but Frank
sounds really nice and like someone Gerard could talk to without internally
freaking out so he tries laughing with him but it sounds more like a breathless
snort so he clamps his mouth shut and starts jacking off again.
And then it's like a switch is flipped, Frank's voice gets all low and raspy,
"Is your mom home?"
He hesitates, breathes, "She's - she's upstairs."
"What do you think she'd say if she found out her son was jacking off for a
stranger?"
"Shit," he pants, pre come leaking over his fingers.
"Bet you wouldn't even be able to stop if she could hear you, not with how hard
you are."
"Fuck, I - I would." He can't even breathe let alone take his hand off his
fucking dick, who the hell is he kidding?
Frank tsks and Gerard can picture him shaking his head, "I don't think so. I
remember back in high school I met this guy at a show and brought him back to
my house to hang out. My mom was asleep in the room next to mine, but he didn't
even care, just told me to stay quiet and fucking sucked me off. It was like
nothing else; hot and wet and he could take me in so deep, fuck, you ever been
sucked off?"
Gerard's fucking keening at this point, hips arching off the bed, head thrown
back as he jerks himself off with one hand and keeps his cell phone pressed
tightly to his ear with his other. He can't get over Frank's voice; he almost
wants to tell him his name so he can say it when Gerard comes, because fuck,
he's totally about to come.
"No, fuck, never." He grits out.
"If I was there I'd suck you off, let you hold me down and fuck my mouth until
you came." Frank says it really offhand, like he’s doing his taxes while
talking dirty to Gerard and that’s just too much for him to handle.
"Oh fuck," Gerard cries out, hips jerking up as he comes over his hand and
stomach. He shakes through his aftershocks, quiet moans slipping out as he
sinks down into his bed.
"Better?" Now he sounds fucking earnest, like he actually cares. What the fuck
is up with this guy?
"I - um - thank you!" Gerard blurts, mashing the end button with his thumb
before throwing his phone across the room. It actually takes Gerard about
twenty minutes to get up and start straightening shit out (like his underwear),
clearing the history on his phone when he finally manages to find it again. It
smells a little less like sweat and come when Mikey comes back from Pete's.
He stumbles in, his fucking shirt on backwards, blabbering about a fight at
some party, completely ignoring the way Gerard's perched at the end of his bed
with his hands folded in his lap like a fucking altar boy. He takes one look at
him and starts asking if General Hospital’s come on yet because he’s fucking
obsessed with it and Gerard tells him he doesn’t know. And it's not like it's a
lie or anything, but Gerard always knows, because he never has anything better
to do. So it's a little suspicious for him to suddenly be clueless (due to him
calling a phone sex line instead of flipping through the channels while waiting
for Mikey to get home), but Mikey just shuffles around the room some more until
he finds the remote.
He does find General Hospital after a few minutes of very thorough searching,
but only watches two scene changes, knocking out half on top of Gerard, his
body heat already making Gerard start to sweat again. Gerard finishes the rest
of the episode, finally rolling Mikey over towards the edge of the bed when he
starts making noise in his sleep. He hopes that when Mikey finally pukes it’ll
be on the floor instead of on Gerard. He lets out a long breath before closing
his eyes and just thinks, fuck, how the fuck is this his life?
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