Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/537454.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M
  Fandom:
      My_Chemical_Romance
  Relationship:
      Frank_Iero/Gerard_Way, Lindsey_Ballato/Jamia_Nestor
  Character:
      Frank_Iero, Gerard_Way, Lindsey_Ballato, Jamia_Nestor, Alicia_Simmons,
      Mikey_Way
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Alternate_Universe_-_Gender_Changes,
      Alternate_Universe_-_1990s, Feminism, Riot_Grrrl, Oral_Sex, Implied
      Relationships, Always-a-girl!Gerard, Crossdressing
  Series:
      Part 1 of Riot_Grrrl!Gee
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-10-15 Words: 4678
****** Rebel Rebel ******
by my99centdreams
Summary
     It’s the fourth party she’s been to this week if the one Taylor
     Kennick threw for herself while her parents stayed in their room
     counts (it probably doesn’t but whatever, the point is she’s been far
     too social lately and is just about ready to revert back to her
     hermit ways). Seriously, if it gets to the point where Mikey breaks
     out the password they created for emergency situations, and by
     emergency situations she means their lives have turned into a body
     snatchers movie, then she knows it's time to put on her pajamas, lock
     herself in her room, and eat ice cream straight from the carton.
Notes
     I got the idea for this after reading 'Girls to the Front: The True
     Story of the Riot Grrrl Revolution' by Sara Marcus which was a great
     book by the way. If you're interested in Riot Grrrl, feminism, or
     bands like Bikini Kill you should definitely check her book out.
The show’s in Tammy's rank basement, the air thick and stale from old sweat and
fresh smoke (and if Gee breathes too deeply she gets a lungful of mold). The
bottle of Miller in her sweaty hand is warm when she presses it to her
forehead, wishing it was cold enough to chase away the sweat plastering her
hair to her skin. It’s the fourth party she’s been to this week if the one
Taylor Kennick threw for herself while her parents stayed in their room counts
(it probably doesn’t but whatever, the point is she’s been far too social
lately and is just about ready to revert back to her hermit ways). Seriously,
if it gets to the point where Mikey breaks out the password they created for
emergency situations, and by emergency situations she means their lives have
turned into a body snatchers movie, then she knows it's time to put on her
pajamas, lock herself in her room, and eat ice cream straight from the carton. 
This party, however, is nothing like Taylor’s. For starters, motherfucking
Sleater-Kinney was on the lineup and Corin Tucker cussed out some boy who kept
slamming into a girl, Corin's anger getting the guy thrown out right then and
there. There's a guy who somehow managed to get into Tammy's garage handing out
beer to anyone who wants some; he's got spiky blue hair and whenever Gee sneaks
out for a drink he yanks her into a hug that reeks of chicken wings and jizz
and Gee doesn't even want to know how one can walk around smelling like that.
And sure she's not the cleanest person around, but deodorant and perfume can
work wonders and it's about time he's realized it.
He had smiled at her when she finally managed to free herself from his grip and
raised his eyebrows, and it took Gee longer than it should've to remember how
Johnny Sancka went blabbing to the whole school about how Gee blew him at a
party after providing her with a bottle of Jack. Just so everyone knows, she
didn't suck him off 'cause he gave her free liquor, she sucked him off 'cause
she'd been harboring a pathetic crush on him since the eighth grade when he
wore his sister's Madonna tour shirt to school and said David Bowie was a
"pretty cool guy". So when they somehow stumbled into the bathroom together at
Tammy's last party she figured why not? What could possibly go wrong?
The answer to that question is that Gee could become Belleville High's official
school slut. It's a high honor and definitely a big responsibility, she's going
to have to take it seriously if she wants to keep the title away from Joanne
Kersna who's rumored to have blown the entire football team last Fall. The
great thing about Riot Grrrl is that it thrives from word of mouth and
communication, and unfortunately for Gee so does the attention she gets from
horny virgins. Johnny Sancka probably told the kid with the beer all about her;
every time she passes by the ratty sofa shoved up against the back wall
Johnny's beady little eyes follow her, flicking to the floor as soon as she so
much as glances in his direction. She doesn't really care; he knows he's a
piece of shit, Lindsey made sure of that when she kicked him in the balls
during gym class last week and told him to shut his fucking mouth or she'd do
it for him.
There are two guys hovering by the sofa next to Johnny with their arms crossed,
identical frowns on their faces, watching another guy gesture emphatically at
the sofa and then towards the other side of the room where the second band is
packing up all their gear, sweaty and lethargic, as someone holds open the
basement door for them, like he wants to move the couch all the way across the
room as some sort of front row seat deal.
The guy holding open the door for the band looks kind of familar, but it could
just be because he looks like the typical grunge rat with his dirty clothes and
stringy hair. Every teenage boy in the scene wants to be Kurt Cobain these days
and Gee tries not to be so cynical because she's stuck in an I-can't-figure-
out-if-I-wanna-be-you-or-fuck-you state of mind when it comes to Courtney Love.
She watches the grunge rat, squinting her eyes, and wishes Mikey hadn't ditched
her for a Sonic Youth gig all the way in Pennsylvania so she wouldn't feel like
such an outsider. Mikey's one of those kids who bounces from clique to clique
effortlessly, garnering free weed, booze, and cigarettes like the shit's
fucking free and never having to do more than glance in someone's direction to
earn their friendship. Gee, on the other hand, has a total of three friends:
Ray Toro, a marching band geek turned Megadeth groupie, Bob Bryar, a marching
band geek turned drop out, and Lindsey Ballato, a chubby bitch turned
Belleville High's most hated dyke. Most - okay, all - of those friendships were
formed when Gee was too drunk to worry about making an ass out of herself; she
was loud and flirty and managed to talk about something other than superheroes,
Bowie, and feminism for once. So, maybe another drink is just what she needs.
Gee slithers out of the room, pressed up tight against the wall, and makes a
run for it when she sees blue hair stalk past her. The grunge rat by the door
gives her a look, but turns away when she sneaks another piss warm beer from
the trunk and pops the cap. She gulps it down, grimacing at the taste and
sliding the back of her hand across her wet lips when she's done; her
lipstick’s probably smeared all to hell now, but she can’t bring herself to
care. When she turns back to leave grunge rat looks like he wants to say
something to her, but his mouth shuts abruptly when a girl in a leather jacket
strides past him, turning around to flip him off before disappearing into the
basement. Gee laughs at the boy's ugly scowl, not even realizing her beer's
been stolen until a girl – at least Gee thinks it’s a girl – wearing a short
red dress salutes her in the doorway before shoving off the guy and stomping
into the basement.
Gee shrugs and snatches another beer before making a hasty retreat, not wanting
to push her luck too much.
She doesn't realize she's searching for the two (?) girls until she spots the
one wearing the leather jacket and proceeds to hide by the recently vacated
couch. She probably shouldn't touch the thing, who knows what disgusting germs
are breeding on it, but when the girl looks in her direction Gee squeaks and
just sort of falls onto it.
The girl in the jacket looks kinda tough, and also like she doesn’t really
belong with this group. She probably blends in seamlessly at hardcore shows,
hate-moshing with the boys and knocking out anyone who dares to grope her.
Girls like that make Gee insanely jealous. Gee's been to exactly one hardcore
show - back when she was fourteen - and almost didn't make it out alive. Maybe
it was stupid of her to think Jawbreaker’s shows would be a little more tame,
but, then again most Jawbreaker fans are a bunch of angst-y boys who keep all
their anger bottled up inside until it bursts out.
Gee figures she’s just here for Fugazi like the handful of boys that actually
showed up, storming into the basement after angrily trudging back  outside to
put their six packs back in the trunks of their cars in order to gain access as
if they couldn’t read the huge 'NO ALCOHOL' printed in big, block letters on
the flyers. The boys are also pretty pissed off about ticket prices which is
bullshit since it’s two bucks for girls, five for boys, and four for boys in
drag. So no matter how you look at it they’re cheap as fuck and if Gee’s broke
ass can afford it after wasting all her money on comics and Docs and art
supplies and more comics then so can theirs. 
She’s probably spent a fuck ton more money on cigarettes these past few months
than she should’ve as well, but fucking Mikey is going through another one of
his I-quit-everything-that-isn’t-coffee stages and won’t buy her any cigarettes
because even though she's older he's the one who never gets carded. 
Gee's interrupted from her thoughts by Tammy, a girl with strawberry blonde
hair who carries around pepper spray in the itty bitty purse her grandmother
gave her for Christmas that’s covered in miniature poodles (it’s without a
doubt the ugliest thing Gee’s ever seen in her life), making her way to the
front of the room, clutching a few papers that are most likely covered in
poorly drawn stars and hearts. As soon as she reaches the crowd it opens up for
her, creating a safe path to the microphone, before closing behind her once
again.
Gee scrambles up from the couch and over to the crowd, tugging her sweater down
a little, and takes a deep breath before plunging in, ready to throw a couple
well-aimed jabs at whatever idiots are looking for a fight before the show even
starts and the perverted creeps who think she’s dressed like this for them,
darting their hands out to touch her unapologetically, but ends up stumbling to
the front of the room easily when the crowd opens up and swallows her whole
just like it did Tammy. 
She looks around once she’s made it to the center, listening to Tammy talk
about the zines for sale in the back and how Melissa and Sam are looking for a
drummer for the band they started - "it's like Bikini Kill meets Sonic Youth
meets surf rock" - sounds pretty horrible if you ask Gee, but that's what she
said about Heavens to Betsy when they first came out and not even two weeks
later she was sat in the principal's office for stealing some idiot boy’s gym
clothes when he called them garbage. Even though detention was pretty fucking
miserable it was without a doubt worth it to see Jimmy Weston hobbling around
in the hallways with nothing but a towel on, cheeks flaming as girls wolf-
whistled at him.
Tammy crumples the papers in her hands when she’s finished, pointing accusingly
at the crowd with a smirk on her face. "Also, boys, just because you're wearing
skirts doesn't mean you can push us around. Girls to the front!" 
Gee takes that as her cue to keep moving and in all honesty, making her way to
the front was probably only made easier by the hordes of girls grinding on each
other and holding hands with wide smiles on their faces; girl love distracting
the small amount of boys that bothered to show up to a gig hosted by a bunch of
teen feminists. 
She weasels her way to the front and smiles when she spots Lindsey a little to
the right, near the bassist, draped over a short girl with bleached hair and a
leather jacket. Gee recognizes her as the girl who flipped off the boy standing
by the door earlier. If it weren’t for the patch covered jacket and the choppy
haircut that makes her look like a junkie she’d probably be really adorable
with her big smile and freckled nose. 
When the girl turns towards Lindsey to whisper something in her ear Gee notices
a red lip print on her cheek, no doubt Lindsey’s, and wonders if Lindsey's been
hiding a girlfriend all this time. She watches Lindsey laugh as her hand comes
to rest on the girl's hip, blood red fingernails digging into the slightly too
big jacket possessively. She dismisses the idea a second later, though, if
Lindsey got a girlfriend she’d spend all her time bragging about how awesome
she was. Gee can’t really blame her, if she found someone to put up with her
she’d run off at the mouth about them too.
The band should be taking the stage any second now - if the way the crowd is
swelling, pushing and shoving, to get closer to the makeshift stage is any
indication - and Gee turns away from Lindsey, not really wanting to be caught
staring by the girl in the jacket. She rocks back and forth on the balls of her
feet - excitement making her skin buzz - and is contemplating whether or not
crowd surfing would work at a show like this when someone bumps into her,
sending her stumbling forwards, grabbing onto the mic stand to steady herself.
She hisses, "What the fuck?"
"Oh, shit." hands are grabbing onto her gently, pulling her back into the crowd
and steadying her when she trips on a chord and almost face plants which would
definitely make the list of 'Gee Way's Most Embarrassing Moments Ever'. "Sorry
- I'm - you're okay, right?"
Gee swats the hands away, arms wrapping around her stomach protectively, as her
lips twist into one epic bitch face... that completely disappears once she gets
a look at the guy standing next to her with his arms out in front of him like
he's waiting to catch her if she suddenly trips over air - which is not as
ridiculous as it sounds when it's Gee you're talking about. 
"I - yes - uh," she drops her hands, cheeks heating up at the way he's looking
at her, eyes dark and excited. She blurts, "You're wearing a dress." Gee claps
her hands together, fingers twisting anxiously, and just barely resists the
urge to hide her face because really? She's a fucking a Riot Grrrl - a feminist
- boys in dresses aren't supposed to render her speechless.
The boy - the really fucking cute boy - curtsies for her, actually fucking
curtsies like she's the Queen of England or some shit, the Docs he's wearing
only serving to make his pale legs look that much more like toothpicks. He
grins and tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear, "Yeah, it's nice, right?
Jamia said I could wear it if she could wear my jacket and the flyers all said
boys in drag pay less to get in so I thought, why not?"
It is a nice dress - the red fabric clinging to his hips and bringing out the
green in his eyes - and when Gee glances down she notices how short it is -
falling a few inches above his knees - she wonders if he's wearing panties as
well. She can almost see the dark red lace stretched obscenely over his cock
and wow that's quite the kink she's got there. She blushes bright red again,
stuttering out a reply and trying to ignore the way he's smirking at her like
he knows exactly what she's thinking, "Yes - uh - yeah, it looks great."
The boy smiles, turning to watch the band file out onto the stage. "I'm Frank,
by the way."
"Gee," she says, because there is no way in hell she's telling him her name's
Gerard. It's great having a mother who doubles as a feminist, but using her
daughter's name as a way to combat the ridiculous belief that some names are
solely for boys while others are for girls was not such a great idea on her
mother's part if you ask Gee.
Frank disappears almost as soon as Ian MacKaye introduces them over the harsh
chords of the guitar, slipping into the crowd as if he was never there to begin
with. Gee stays up front, keeping her arms up over her head to make sure she
doesn't get kicked in the head, and loses herself in the music, sweater
sticking to her skin as she thrashes around.
Every few songs she catches glimpses of Frank; Frank jumping on some guy's back
to haul himself up above the crowd, Frank slinging his arm around leather
jacket girl's - Jamia, Gee guesses - shoulders with a grin on his face as they
move together, and, lastly, Frank shaking off the punch Johnny Sancka lands
when Frank shoves into him hard enough to knock him against the wall. Frank's a
force to be reckoned with, flying around the room – dress swishing around his
knees – with the kind of pent up energy ten hardcore kids have and somehow
managing to end up right back where he started for the encore, sweaty and a
little bloody with this dazed sort of look in his eyes that reminds Gee of the
one Mikey gets when he's high.
As soon as the show ends Frank disappears, and Gee tries not to let her
disappointment show too much as she shuffles out to the garage for one last
beer, digging her smokes out of her pocket as she goes. She snags a beer,
stumbling a little as she goes - tired and buzzed.
Gee walks around Tammy's small house to the backyard where she's sure no one
else is going to be and lights up, taking a drag off her cigarette and twisting
the cap off her beer, gulping it down and belching as she leans up against the
rough bark of a tree, eyeing the tire swing hanging off one of its' branches
suspiciously. Sure, it looks like a good time now but once she goes to give it
a whirl she'd probably fly right off - ass in the dirt - wondering how the hell
she ended up on the ground. Gee shakes her head and declares, "No."
And maybe she says it just a little too loud, because a second later she hears
a soft, "Oh, okay. I'll just - uh - go now."
Gee whips around, eyes widening as she trips over herself to reach Frank who's
walking too fucking quickly for Gee's liking. When she gets close enough she
grabs onto Frank's arm, tugging him back. "Wait, Frank, I wasn't - um - talking
to you?"
Frank raises an eyebrow, amused, but he's smiling so Gee lets out the breath
she didn't know she was holding. "No, of course you weren't." he takes a step
towards her and the change in the air is almost palpable; Gee can't tell if the
look on Frank's face is hopeful or predatory, maybe both. "So, then yes?"
Gee swallows, walking backwards - praying to god she doesn't fall - and nods
like she has the slightest fucking clue about what Frank is talking about. She
jumps when her back hits the tree and Frank's on her in the next second,
pressing up tight against her, sweaty and warm, and Gee's heart fucking stops
for a second before picking up speed, hammering so loudly she's surprised Frank
hasn't said anything.
He smiles up at her before he kisses her, tugging his bottom lip between his
teeth as he tangles his hand in her hair, and even though she knew it was
coming, the soft press of Frank's lips against hers startles her and she
squeaks into the kiss, eyes only shutting when he licks across the seam of her
lips, soft and tentative.
And it's not that Gee doesn't want this because she really fucking does, like
really fucking does, but other than that blowjob two weeks ago she's never
done...anything. She's kissed Lindsey a few times to see what it was like, but
they were always close-mouthed and quick, so she's pretty much fumbling in the
dark right now.
It's kind of really fucking awkward for a few seconds with Gee's hands dangling
uselessly by her sides and her shoulders drawn up - whole body tense from
nerves - and she's about to just call it quits and hope that in two years when
she goes off to college she won't be so pathetic, but then Frank tugs on her
hair, the sharp burn sending heat singing through her blood to pool in her
belly and sweat to bead along the back of her neck, and she just sort of slumps
against the tree, whimpering into Frank's mouth as her hands scrabble to just
fucking touch Frank she doesn't even fucking care where.
Frank tastes like smoke and something sweet and he grins against her mouth, lip
ring clacking against Gee’s teeth, when she lets out another surprised squeak
at the rough slide of his hand down her arm, fingers encircling her wrist. She
doesn’t have time to be embarrassed about it, because in the next second he
lets out a noise of his own, breathy and low before nipping at her bottom lip
and ducking down to kiss her neck.
And – yeah – wow, that’s… that’s something else. Gee’s fingers dig into the
soft swell of his hips, bunching the fabric of his dress up, and tilts her head
back to give Frank better access. Her eyes flutter open and she can’t see
anything but the tree and the stars. For a backyard hookup after a punk show
this is shaping up to be pretty damn special.
Then Frank bites down again and her eyes flutter closed. She breathes, “Oh,”
“Yeah,” Frank murmurs against her skin, breath hot and damp. His voice comes
out kind of growly and – fuck, fuck – she’s totally getting wet right now, just
from Frank’s mouth (and tongue and teeth) on her fucking neck.
Frank’s fingers let go of her wrist, slowly making their way up her stomach to
her chest, circling around her nipple before just going for it and palming her
gently, not at all like Johnny Sancka’s rough squeezing that made Gee think her
boobs were going to pop like a balloon.
And Gee doesn’t have enough brain power to make the mandatory grossed-out face
she usually does whenever she thinks about Johnny, because Frank’s hands are
pushing up under her shirt and shoving her bra up and out of the way, ducking
down to tongue at her nipple. And, fuck, it feels fucking great. These little
shocks of pleasure zing their way down to her belly and – oh, shit – when he
bites down Gee gets even wetter if it’s even fucking possible, her cheeks and
chest flushing red at the thought of her damp panties.
“Frank,” she gasps, head thumping against the tree as she squeezes her thighs
together, trying to get some fucking contact because her clit is fucking
throbbing and she feels like she’s burning up under Frank’s mouth and hands.
Frank jams his leg in between hers, giving her something soft and warm to move
against. Frank’s got a hand on her ass urging her on, pulling her in and down
onto his thigh.
Gee’s not even worried about someone walking out and seeing her like this until
the back door bangs open and she freezes, eyes snapping open to the sight of
three girls stumbling out of the house with their hands linked, giggling and
singing what sounds like ‘Rebel Girl’ at the top of their lungs, snorting when
one of them trips over a garbage can. They’re too drunk to actually notice
anything besides themselves so Gee figures she’s in the clear, but then Frank
moves to pull away and Gee is not fucking having that so she tightens her grip
in his hair and practically smushes his face in her tits which wasn’t really
her plan, but whatever she’ll take what she can get. She feels Frank shake as
he laughs into the curve of her breast before going back to kissing and licking
and biting. Fuck, she likes the biting.
It’s only when Frank bites down a little too hard that Gee lets out a loud
moan, alerting the three girls by the door of their presence. The one who
tripped over the garbage can calls out harshly, “Hey! You over there! Are you
okay?”
Oh god, now she’s expected to talk? “Yeah, I’m – fuck – ” Frank’s shoving his
hand down her skirt – fingers teasing her through her panties, warm and firm –
and when he presses in a little harder she can feel how wet the cotton is
against her. Gee grinds down against his hand, head thrown back as she grits
out, “Fucking great! Everything’s great!”
“God, ‘licia, let’s go already.” One of the girls whines, shoving her friends
back towards the house. “You promised me dykes and every girl here’s got some
fucking macho boyfriend.”
“How is that my fault?” Another girl with long, dark hair protests. The door
swings open and various party sounds spill out while the girls stagger back
inside once more before closing, shutting out both Gee and Frank.
“Fuck,” Frank groans, pulling away to look her in the eyes. His fingers drag up
to the waistband of her underwear, slipping inside and circling her clit before
just going for it and sliding two fingers in, "You're so fucking wet."
Gee bites her lip, fingers clenching onto Frank's shoulders as she groans and
spreads her legs a little more, breathing fast and loud as her eyes widen, the
stars in the sky brighter than ever. And then his thumb strokes over her clit
in quick circles and everything just whites out for a second before Frank bites
her bottom lip again and she comes crashing back to reality, her back arching
as a sound that resembles a dying cat gets torn out of her. His lips slide
across her cheek, hot breath making her shudder. He makes noises against her,
growls and grunts, and whenever Gee whimpers his hips jerk against her thigh,
frantic and rough.
"Shit," Frank pants, yanking her head back to brush his lips over hers. She
feels him shaking against her, cock hard and hot where it’s pressed up snug
against her hip. "You're so fucking warm and wet inside, fucking drenching my
fingers." She whines, high and needy, and can't get a yes out fast enough when
he begs, "Gotta - gotta taste you, Gee. Let me, okay? Please?”
The moment the word leaves her lips Frank's dropping to his knees, hard, and
dragging her panties down and urging her to step out of them. Frank doesn't try
to draw it out any longer; he skips over the biting and kissing and leans in
until he's close enough to lick up her slit, fingers leaving behind a wet smear
on her trembling thighs. His tongue twists over her clit and Gee’s hips buck
up, Frank’s fingernails biting into her thighs as he holds on tighter.
She’s moaning above him, squirming and panting and sweating and Jesus she’s
pretty sure this is all she wants in life: Frank’s hot mouth on her wet cunt.
She wants to hold on, make it last because it feels too fucking good to be over
so soon, but the noises Frank’s making below her, groans and desperate breathy
sounds, are fucking delicious.
His fingers inch their way up her thigh at the same time she buries her hand in
his hair and tugs, grinding her hips down and Frank moans against her, loud and
fucking wanton. Gee comes the second Frank’s fingers sink into her, rubbing her
just right as his tongue works wonders on her clit, toes curling in her boots
and fingers yanking so hard on Frank’s hair she probably managed to rip a few
strands out, but Frank doesn’t seem to mind if the way he’s fucking coming all
over the dirt (when did he even get his cock out) is any indication.
“Fuck,” Frank sighs a moment later, resting his head on her thigh.
Gee strokes her hand through his hair, and squints to see if Frank is indeed
wearing panties. He isn’t. “You know,” she says. “You should really wear
panties next time you do drag. I mean, it’s kind of cheating if you don’t.”
“Huh,” Frank huffs, and somehow it sounds thoughtful. “Lead me to any store
that sells panties that isn’t Victoria’s Secret and I’ll definitely make that
happen.”
“Deal,” she nods.
“Cool,” he says, smiling up at her.
“Cool,” Gee repeats, grinning. 
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