[Fic] Croquis. 1/3
Repost from Mibba.
Everything has a beginning, a continuation and an ending. For Frank and Gerard it was all about croquis.
Croquis, that's how we began. I had a brief job during nights my last year in high school, as a model at the School of Visual Arts. It was well payed, considering I was so young and I only worked two hours a week, but the fact that the college students were sketching my naked body, over and over again, definitely added a few dollars to the paycheck. The first times were embarrassing, the feeling of everybody's eyes burning over my body made me squirm and it was difficult to stay still. It got better when I a few weeks later got my first tattoo, a small one saying 'Hope' on my chest. It made me feel less naked and more confident. The constant blushing stopped.
He was a student, being there every night to sketch the shape and contour of my body, discreetly staring at every patch of bare skin he could see. As I got more comfortable with modeling I'd let my eyes travel over the many students and would often get stuck on him, meeting his eyes which were running wild with passion as the piece of charcoal in his hand drew lines over the paper, sketching feverishly, sometimes with a pen sharp as a needle. He did a lot more than just sketching me, it wasn't just croquis to him, it was details.
I never saw any of the students' sketches, but one night, a Thursday, he came up to me after the session and asked me to look at one of his drawings. I had already dressed in jeans and t-shirt, and finally added a sweater as I felt cold in the now almost empty room before following him to his desk. He smiled and our fingers brushed against one another as he handed me something that was not a croquis sketch, but a completed drawing that looked so much like me I couldn't believe it. I asked him if they weren't supposed to be doing just basic sketches of my form, and he just said that it was more challenging to draw someone who changed their position every ten minutes. I smiled, agreeing with him as I held the drawing back out to him. He said I could keep it if I just had dinner with him the next day. He silently meant it to be a date but I didn't know that, so I just agreed again before leaving the building with the drawing of me in my hand. I barely even registered his hand resting lightly on my lower back.
When he picked me up the next night I felt like an idiot as I realized I was really under dressed, wearing the same clothes I had worn for school; ripped jeans and an old Misfits hoodie. He on the other hand looked as if he had spent hours on his appearance, wearing tight, dark pants, a white button up shirt and a black jacket. His black, almost shoulder-length hair was straightened, ruffled just the right way with the right amount of hairspray in it and it framed his pale face where his dark eyes stood out, rimmed with eyeliner. His lips shimmered pink from the lip balm he wore as he smiled sweetly, yet confidently, reaching a hand out for me to take. I took it, almost feeling my hand disappear in his large, soft one and I wondered what on earth I had gotten myself into. He was good-looking and all, but I had never, not ever, been attracted to a guy. The croquis modeling was just a job, a good way to get money for the new guitar amplifier I wanted to buy.
We walked out to his car, an expensive looking BMW, and as soon as he let go of it, I retracted my hand. He got in and I followed his example, my mind occupied with wondering what I should do. Would it be a good idea to just tell him that I wasn't interested in him like that, or would it be obvious enough that I wasn't? He never said anything about it, not until we were at a restaurant. It looked as expensive as the car, which he told me was a birthday present from his dad as well as a bribe to try to get him into something less ridiculous than art. He had smiled at me and said that he'd never give up an opportunity to paint or draw beautiful things, making me blush.
"You didn't think this was a date, did you?" He looked at me from his side of the table for two, sipping his water. The look he gave me made my stomach bubble like his water, but I didn't know why. He was so different, obviously, as he wasn't like guys I'd normally associate with.
"No, I didn't." I looked down at my half-empty plate, wondering where he was going with the awkward subject and hoping he wouldn't press it any further. His hypnotizing eyes gazed at me, making me all the more aware of everything he was making me question that night.
"It's cool. It must be weird enough for you to be sitting here with someone you're usually modeling for. I mean, it's strange for me to see you with clothes on," he chuckled, making me go from uncomfortable to comfortable and back to uncomfortable with just three sentences. "You have such a beautiful body. It's like looking at and drawing a miracle," he said dreamily and I couldn't help but blush. Then he got a thoughtful expression on his face, "Your tattoo, what does it mean? I mean, is there more meaning that just simply 'hope' behind it? It really looks good."
"Thanks, I guess. I suppose it's mostly about having hope for the future, you know?" He nodded and I brought my glass of coke to my mouth, not feeling like eating anymore. We both remained silent for a while as he finished his meal and I sipped my coke, my thoughts flying off into space but still focusing on the man in front of me.
I snapped back into reality as he spoke again, "I know this is a weird question since we just concluded that this isn't a date, but would you like to come back to my place later?" He paused and I looked at him strangely, not at all getting what he could possibly want me, or us, to do at his place. "I just really feel like drawing, and you are such a fantastic motive, my favorite to be honest." He smiled, a flirtatious glint in his sparkling eyes.
"I don't know..." I wasn't sure of how to respond, not knowing exactly what he wanted. He asked me out on a date, kept calling me beautiful and seemed genuinely interested in me, but still, if I went with him and willingly took off my clothes he could do anything.
Almost as if he had read my mind he said, "I won't rape you, I just want to draw you. I'll even pay you if that's the problem." Suddenly he reached over the table, gently grasping my hand as it rested by my plate and once again my hand was lost within the heat of his soft skin.
"Fine, I'll do it. But don't pay me. I'm not a whore." He smiled and nodded, but insisted that he payed for my meal considering that that had been his intention when he had brought me to the expensive restaurant, thinking it was a date. I didn't bother with any halfhearted protests and settled on being happy with my free meal.
We left after he payed, his hand once again placed on my lower back but I didn't care, trying to see it as a protective gesture from a friend, and not something else. He drove us to his home, which as I had suspected, was another gift or bribe from his father to get him away from college. He told me that the airy apartment was perfect for painting and drawing though, and that it would take a lot to get him to leave it or his future of doing art. When we arrived outside his apartment complex he parked the car in the underground garage and we took the elevator up to the seventh floor. A slightly awkward silence hovered in the air as I peered over at him, seeing an unreadable smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. The doors opened and I stepped out of the confined space, waiting for him to lead me in whatever direction his place was, and with his hand on my lower back he led me to the second door to the left.
As he unlocked the door and opened it he gently pushed me in front of him inside the apartment and I was literally gaping at the size of it. He had described it as airy, and I had to agree as I looked at the unusually high ceiling and open floors. I swear, my entire house would have fit inside the lounge alone.
"You can have a look around if you want to. I'm gonna get my drawing stuff," He smiled and I started feeling butterflies in my stomach as the nerves suddenly came crashing over me, full force. I was going to model naked for a guy who was obviously gay, alone. And there was something about this guy that made me feel funny in a way I shouldn't. "The bathroom's just down the hall, I'd rather you didn't go when we've already started," he said before disappearing into a room which I assumed was his studio, considering the place was that big.
I walked down the hall, glancing into the different rooms until I found the bathroom. The master bedroom definitely caught my eye as the bed was almost twice the size of my own bedroom which I had lived in for almost eighteen years. I kept going and soon found the bathroom, which for a small guest bathroom was big, as big as everything else was in comparison. I did my business and washed my hands before splashing some refreshing cold water on my face, trying to wash the nerves away. 'He's only going to fucking draw me!'
With that mantra in my head I walked back out and down the hallway to the lounge, wondering where we would be doing it. What if he wanted me in his bedroom? The panicky thoughts vanished as I found him laying out a blanket and pillows on the floor as paper and pencils waited on the coffee table. His jacket was thrown over the back of a couch and the sleeves of his shirt was rolled up to his elbows, giving him a professional look. He looked up at me, that same content smile adorning his face as he stood up and stepped over to me.
"Aren't you going to take that off?" He stepped almost as close as was physically possible, our faces almost touching and I thought he was going to kiss me, but he just gazed into my eyes as his hands went up to unzip my hoodie, pushing it over my shoulders so it fell to the floor. A breath hitched in my throat and I just froze, wondering if he was breaking his promise before we even started. He noticed the tension and moved away, looking down apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I'm just a little eager. I'll just go over here and... I won't even look." He blushed sweetly and walked over to the large windows where the moon was shining in, his back turned towards me. Taking a deep breath I pulled my t-shirt over my head before undoing my belt and jeans, letting them slide off before also taking my boxers off.
I crossed my arms over my chest, but it hardly covered what he looked at as he turned back around. "Uh, where do you want me? To be, I mean." I blushed but he just pointed to the blanket and pillows which were located so that the moonshine fell straight on them.
"Sit there, facing the window with your knees bent in front of you and your arms crossed over your kneecaps." I did as I was asked, resting my head on my arms as I settled down in the bright moonlight but was soon corrected by his hands on my bare skin. "Don't slouch, just look up at the moon and straighten your back." I did as I was told, shivering as his soft hands traveled over my back and his breath ghosted over my neck. I never noticed him sitting down, but I felt his hands skimming over my thighs as he adjusted my position further.
"Is- Is this okay?" His hands stopped on my calves after bending my knees just a little more and I felt his hot breath on my neck as he whispered back.
"Yeah, just relax, are you cold or something?" He removed his hands, moving so he was in front of me instead. I shook my head slightly and his hand cupped my face, lifting it to look at him. "There's no need to be so scared," he whispered and I let out a shaky breath as he got up from the floor and sat down a few feet away with paper and charcoal in his hands.
The sound of the pencil scraping against the paper reached my ears and I trembled as I could still feel the traces of his fingers all over my body. I gazed over at him out of the corner of my eye, finding the familiar glint of passion in his eyes. He smiled over the paper as he saw me looking, glancing down at his drawing every second before meeting my eyes again. I looked back outside as time started passing and the only sounds filling the air was the same scratches of charcoal against paper, and my position really wasn't comfortable at all. My back and butt was aching and my eyes were drooping, but I had no idea how much time had really passed and without even realizing it I put my head back down on my arms, letting my eyes fall shut.
"Frank." I heard him say, but felt too tired to care. I heard him get up and soon felt his hands on my bare skin again, but what really woke me up again was the feeling of a pair of lips on my shoulder and soft whispers in my ear. "I'm almost done, just give me another five minutes. Please?" I felt his fingers thread through my hair, gently brushing it out of my face and I lifted my head up to look at him with a sigh. Again, our faces were so close I was sure he'd kiss me, but again, he didn't. He flashed me the smile I had already gotten used to and got up, returning to his place with the paper and pencil.
Five minutes passed and as he put his things down and stood up I let out a deep breath of relief before falling back on the pillows around me and stretching out, not even caring about being completely exposed in front of him. "What time is it? I have to get home." I looked up at him as he stood just next to me and accepted his offer to help me up when he held his hands out.
"It's... one thirty," he said after looking at the huge TV set behind me, his hazel eyes returning to mine as he continued, "Maybe you should stay? I don't want you walking home at this hour." He took one step closer, closing the already tiny gap between our bodies as one hand cupped my face and the other snaked around my naked waist, finding its place on my lower back.
"I don't think-" I started, but was soon interrupted by his lips moving over my neck, sending tingles throughout my tired spine and my fingers grasped the fabric of his shirt as I involuntarily craned my neck to give him more access to my neck. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin as his hand caressed the other side and back of my neck, and I buried my face in his neck, drawing in the scent of his hair.
"You're so beautiful, your body is... I want you." He whispered against my neck, the hand he had around my neck traveling south. So many feelings rushed through my head and body, feelings I had never expected to feel, not even when I felt completely lost just holding his hand or enjoyed the feeling of his hand just where... where it was supposed to be. "I wanna be your first."
"Gerard... I- I'm not..." My body seemed to not be listening to the words that came out of my mouth as my fingers started picking at the buttons of his shirt, my lips releasing a soft moan.
"I wanna be your only one then." His hand pinched my nipple lightly, drawing a whimper from my mouth into his hair as my fingers more eagerly fought to undo his shirt. As my fingertips for the first time felt the soft skin of his chest my lips hesitantly pressed against his neck, soon kissing and sucking more feverishly. I pushed his shirt over his shoulders, groaning as his hands left my craving body for just a second before returning to let the palms of his hands devour my body.
I moaned softly as his hands and lips and tongue and teeth were everywhere, and tried to return the favor before dealing with the next problem: getting his pants off and leaving his body as naked as mine was. My hand brushed against his still clothed cock and he sighed softly in pleasure, bringing attention to my own growing member. The erection I was getting over a man. I pushed all thoughts to the back of my head, focusing on his pants and what was underneath them. I undid the belt, leaving it in as I undid the button and zip hurriedly before pulling both them and the tight boxers underneath straight down as far as I could reach. He kicked them off the rest of the way before tearing his face away from my skin and mine from his, slamming his lips into mine.
Instead of me being naked in front of him, he was now naked with me, and it felt amazing. Hands traveled and arms wrapped tightly around bodies as our tongues tangled passionately, moans slipping out every once in a while as our still growing members brushed against one another. As we stood there, still in the middle of the lounge with moonlight glittering over our bodies, his hands slid lower and closer to my ass, much lower than where he would have placed his hand protectively on my back. A whimper escaped my lips and entered his mouth as his fingers sneaked in between my ass-cheeks, rubbing around my entrance before sliding one digit in. I cried out into his mouth, almost pulling away from him as the uncomfortable feeling turned into one of pain.
"Stop!" I pulled away a little more, whispering against his lips and trying to hold tears of pain back. He withdrew his hand and let the other one cup my face, lustful hazels staring into my eyes.
"You do want this, don't you?" I nodded in his hand, feeling more turned on than ever, as well as needier and I just wanted him to control me, tell me what to do and dominate me. "It's gonna hurt, you can't avoid it." I nodded again and his lips were soon back on mine as he softly pushed me backwards and down the hall.
My hands fell down to his hips to steady myself as he kept pushing me backwards, but soon I found myself being pushed down on the huge bed I had spotted earlier. I panted heavily from the kiss, anticipation and fright as I crawled up the bed until my head rested on the many pillows placed by the top of it. I looked up at him as he stood by the foot of the bed and our eyes never left each other as he slowly crawled up to me, kissing his way from the tips of my toes to my knee, and then to my hip. My cock twitched noticeably when I felt his hot breath on it and he smirked beautifully before continuing to kiss his way up to my face.
"Hey you," he breathed on my lips before kissing them lightly, "Don't look so scared, there's gonna be more pleasure than pain, I promise." My hands threaded in his hair and stroked his cheeks as he kept kissing me slowly, tenderly, lovingly... His hands slid back down my body, caressing every square inch of skin they passed until they once again reached my ass. I let him spread my legs so he could sit comfortably in between them and have easier access to me, but I couldn't help but squirm and whimper as I felt his fingers poking and prodding once more.
"Frank," he whispered and pulled away, "Take a pillow and put it just under your lower back." I did as I was told and he got off the bed for a second, a bottle of some kind and a condom in his hands when he returned to his former position. "This is lube. It makes it easier." I nodded as he opened the cap, pouring out a large amount of it on his hand before spreading it over his fingers. I swallowed harshly and he bent down to kiss my chest softly as he started sliding one finger into me, pulling a whimper from my lips as tears fell down my face. His other hand caressed my thigh gently as his lips wandered over my chest and my hands tangled in his dark hair as he moved his finger around before adding another one, forcing more tears out of my eyes and a moan escaped his lips.
"G-Gerard," I was breathing shakily, "It hurts," I whimpered as he moved the two digits in scissoring movements, definitely tearing the skin slightly.
"You're so tight. It will get better, I promise. It just has to get worse first," he mumbled against my skin as he pushed in a third finger, causing me to cry out loudly and grip his hair harder so he whimpered in return. The hand that had been caressing my thigh moved to stroke my cock slowly, making sure I didn't go down too much because of the pain. Sometime during the whole ordeal I think I felt something else, something that wasn't pain, but it was so brief and short and more pain washed over me with more scissoring movements so I had no time to reflect over it. I just let the tears flow until I felt mostly numb and he pulled his fingers out, claiming that I was stretched enough. I couldn't disagree more as his cock sure as hell was a lot bigger than his fingers, no matter how artistically beautiful and strong they were.
He wiped his fingers on the sheets before rolling the condom down over his large erection, sighing as he did so, before smothering the rubber in the same slick liquid. He moaned as he did so and I couldn't help but to like the sound and look of it, his dark wavy hair falling into his eyes as his lips were just a thin slit, letting the beautiful sounds out. My breathing was hard and irregular and my body was quivering all over as he positioned himself above me, my legs bent unnaturally and pushed up, into my chest. His eyes met my terrified ones and he wiped his hand on the sheets again before taking both of mine in his, holding them gently, but tightly and comfortingly on either side of my head.
"Relax, the bad part will be over in no time at all, just relax." He kissed me lightly, our lips touching so briefly it felt like feathers just brushing against them and it made me want more. His lips fluttered just as lightly down to my neck, his intentions being to distract me, but nothing could take away the pain I felt shooting up my spine. Tears flooded out of my eyes and no sweet whispers of his could change it, nor could the soft flutter of his lips on mine.
I think I spaced out then, my body trying to make the pain go away, but it was all I felt. I felt him in me, completely still, and I felt salty water droplets run down my cheeks. I felt him start moving, ever so slowly and it still hurt, but it soon faded away. He moaned, so softly on my skin and on my lips and soon I did as well. Minutes after he entered me the pain vanished and my body just loved having him in me, having him naked with me and in me instead of me in front of him.
"Frank," he whispered as he pulled out only to thrust back in just a little more forcefully, "Does it feel good now?" I felt him kiss my neck and nip at the sensitive spot he had created earlier, and my soft moan was reply enough. His hands left mine to roam over my body, exploring everything he never saw when he was just drawing me from afar, memorizing my details for his next drawing. Never simple croquis, just detailed portraits.
My arms and legs wrapped as tightly around him as possible, pressing our skin together and him deeper into me, both of us moaning as he nudged that spot in me so briefly. He pushed in again, harder, and it was the same feeling as before, but so much stronger and I felt as if I would come right then and there. He kept speeding up and hitting my prostate with more force, soon having me screaming in ecstasy, fingernails digging into and tainting his skin with bruises. I had never felt good like that in my entire life and with the force he was pounding into me I thought I'd snap in half, but it was still the best feeling I had ever felt, the pain was gone and forgotten. He panted in my ear, lips brushing against my skin every now and then, and every time my name left his lips I arched my back, pushing my body closer to his, pushing both of us closer to our orgasms.
His nimble fingers traced along my cock lightly and that's when I lost it. A few more hard thrusts to my spot and another few screams of his name and whispers of mine, and I came, harder and better than ever. Whimpering, I buried my face in his neck as he kept going, moaning as he was so close, crying out softly as he came inside of the condom, in me. I let go of him, trying to ignore the pain in my entire body, especially my ass, as he pulled out and got off of me, letting me roll over, and the next second I was asleep.
The morning after was the strangest morning after ever, as I woke up in the bed with him sitting a few feet away, drawing me. I groaned as I tried to move my sore body and he just smiled towards me, his hand never leaving the paper he was drawing on. He was dressed, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, whereas I wasn't even covered by a thin sheet, it was lying in a heap on the floor where he left it after uncovering me so he could draw me. Draw, not sketch. No croquis.