That Pink Hue

It was only a video: an expensive one.

It was also our longest shoot and the last two days were dedicated to the ending: Mikey’s death.

To Gerard it was all too real, and though he was the one who had has the idea in the first place, and had convinced us all of his idea, that part of the shoot effected him nonetheless; wearing his nerves thin and emotions dry.

Sometimes I look at the Way brothers and I wonder how the ever got so close and I admire that they have continued to be as thick as thieves since. They have their differences, definitely. Mikey refuses vehemently to be touched with Gerard’s make-up, pleading sensitive skin even though he knows that Gerard couldn’t wear the make-up either unless it was a special brand.

It’s quite sweet actually. You never see it on screen but Gerard can never fool Mikey or myself ever; though frankly Mikey has more experience. When he’s angry, he gets these two pink spots forming on either cheek and he looks like a China Doll that it masquerading as a man, without success. When Gerard is scared, his face is so pallid that you wonder when he’s going to keel over and lie still; we keep him away from needles as much for our sanity as for his.

But when he’s aroused, oh, when he’s aroused that pink hue doesn’t stop at his face, in fact, if you watch it closely enough, you can follow its journey.

Personal experience in that field of research has shown that it first appears on his face and then slowly gravitates to his neck. This is the point I normally sit back on my heels and watch.

Gerard likes it when I watch. Sometimes I think he is too gregarious and exhibitionistic for his own good; he seems to have inherited Mikey’s portion as well.

Once it gets to his collarbones I normally cannot stand it anymore and kiss his neck. He tilts his head to the right, always to the right. Then of course the collarbones themselves have to have a bit of attention and by the time I have sat upon my heels again the hue has passed his nipples and is snaking its way evermore down his torso.

Gerard’s nipples are things that constantly fascinate me. The man has overly sensitive skin anyway, but God, I never knew a man that got so close to an orgasm just from having that part of his anatomy worshipped.

Gerard is pale. It is a given fact. What is not widely known is that his nipples are a deep pink, which stand out in contrast from the almost colourless skin. And almost always, said nipples are hard and wanton.

Once Gerard has been placated, or at least begged for me to stop teasing him, I normally sit up again and wait for his want to just ease down a bit. Next is normally his bellybutton. Again, that man is over sensitive in such an area but it is fun when he gets so aroused, just by the mimicking of an action that will of course later surface.

He’ll never know how much I enjoy watching him like this – legs spread, wanton, breathing raggedly – and I almost lose control just by watching and yet, I think maybe he does have a clue. We never hurry. Much as Gerard’s impatient nature is tested by this slow seduction and worship of his body, he never hurries, only occasionally begs and normally spends the whole time looking at me from beneath hooded lids: aroused and moaning.

By this time that pink hue that captures so much of my attention has graced his entire front and as I sit upon his knees, I can just watch as the hue darkens in colour along his penis, until the head is an angry purple colour. Normally I’m still engrossed watching when Gerard gets too impatient and just pulls me down. Our kisses are always different. Sometimes they are of the hard, raw variety, whereas other times they are soft and loving and timeless; the latter occurring more often after making love than before, as we lie in each others arms.

I can never get enough of watching that man. Sometimes I even break the kiss and just sit up again, long enough that Gerard take matters into his own hands – literally. Every time I watch that man pleasure himself, I find a need within me so great that it usually encompasses everything that I am, everything that I am doing. Just watching him and then I become impatient too… At least until I am pleasuring him and the muscles of his hips are straining to prevent letting go.

Gerard never likes to hurt – well other people, that is. He’s always careful, always considerate. He’ll let himself go – to a point. It has taken him time to even relax enough to enjoy the experience of oral sex received. Once he has come, he wastes no time in trying to break the clutches of that heady haze that so often envelops one after orgasm.

And that is when I find myself on my back. When I find myself being watched. When Gerard takes out all his frustrations on me as I did on him.

And I love it.

No more, no less than everything else, but I just am overcome when Gerard looks at me like that: a slight smirk on his face; hazy eyes full of lust which later focus much more sharply; the concentration etched on his face; hair tousled; muscles taut and slightly shaking, given the diminutive time period he bestowed upon his body to get over that state of bliss.

Gerard has a rather weird fascination with my tattoos. Actually he always spends time looking and touching them, and also my piercings. It is a rather strange allure considering that he abhors needles to the fullest extent, so much so that the band make sure that he never comes into contact with one. But still…

As I lie there, it doesn’t take me long to start studying his form again. He normally just waits until I close my eyes and then starts a line of kisses from my brow to my nose ring, to my lip ring and then my lips. Whenever we kiss, he fiddles with the ring, the warmth of his tongue in my mouth against the cold of the steel is always such a harsh contrast and we both feel it keenly. The metal is rarely cold, considering its close proximity to my body heat; the heat Gerard exudes always is hotter, making the rings warmth marginal in comparison.

Gerard’s tongue is magical. The whole of him is, but that tongue can just… Make you come just from thinking about what he does with it.

This continues to the tips of my toes; he always skates over my erection; it is almost a requirement that that is left ‘til last. Once he is back, gazing into my eyes, then the real fun starts. Gerard has this thing, about my tattoos: everyone needs to be looked at; everyone needs to be traces with a finger – a wet finger I have just watched him suck upon, might I add; everyone needs to be kissed; and everyone needs to be traced with his tongue. This does take a while might I add.

Once his ritual has been completed, as if to reassure himself that I am Frankie and that all of me is intact, Gerard normally heads straight to the bottom of the matter. This is when his impatience really shows. He’ll tell me to close my eyes and then all I can feel is light brushings of his fingers, drawing on my skin, butterfly kisses randomly placed until I am squirming and that is when he pounces like a lion that has seen his prey.

To have felt nothing but those fleeting pressures and touches for the last couple of minutes, to suddenly be surrounded by wet warmth and an undeniable pressure is such a shock to the system – which is probably why I enjoy it so much. Gerard always likes to give Oral pleasure, as aforementioned his tongue is pure magic and it never takes me long to just spill into him mouth, which coaxes more than I feel I can give. And then we’re kissing and we can taste each other and ourselves and it’s so erotic and raw and suddenly we just give in and take each other, panting and sweaty and oh so good.

We never know who will be dominant and who will be submissive before we are actually fucking. We don’t make a conscious decision, it just happens. Sometimes Gerard is submissive, and sometimes I am, though mostly it depends on what sort of mood we are in. We are both more naturally persuaded toward submission than dominance. I am because this has been and is my only homosexual relationship: Gerard because he has always been in a relationship with a dominant personality. But dominance always presents something new and we take turns to give love and to receive it – for although it always starts off as harsh needy fucking, it progresses to a mutual loving. By the time we are spent we just have enough energy to get comfortable, curl up into each other and sleep, content.

And as I wake each morning to the sunlight on my face and my lover next to me, I am happy, body soul and mind. I watch him as he sleeps and kiss him as he wakes and we embark on a new day with many new exciting things to discover and experience. And I know that I will wake like this every day for the rest of my life.

And the first words he will hear every morning will be ‘I love you Gerard’.

And I will hear them back as the first words of each new day.

--Fin

Based on Gerard Way and Frank Iero from My Chemical Romance.