Rating: 18.
This story contains strong sexual scenes and explicit language.
Okay, I love reading the Frerard fics so I decided to do one of my own.
Please read and comment so I know what you think. 
Oh and the index is:
Part 1: Page 1.
Part 2: Page 2.
Part 3: Page 3.
Part 4: Page 4.
Part 5: Page 4.
Part 6: Page 5.
Part 7: Page 6.
Part 8: Page 7.
Part 9: Page 8.
Part 10: Page 9.
Part 11: Page 9.
Part 12: Page 10.
Part 13: Page 11.
Part 14: Page 11.
Part 15: Page 12.
Part 16: Page 13.
Part 17: Page 14.
Part 18: Page 15.
Part 19: Page 17.
Part 20: Page 18.
Part 21: Page 19.
Part 22: Page 21.
Part 23: Page 22.
Part 24: Page 23.
Part 25: Page 25.
Part 26: Page 26.
Part 27: Page 28.
Part 28: Page 28.
Part 29: Page 30.
Part 30: Page 31.
Special; Part One: Page 33.
Special; Part Two: Page 34.
Special; Part Three: Page 35.
Special; Part Four(A): Page 37.
Special; Part Four(B): Page 38.
Special; Part Four(C): Page 40.
Part 31: Page 42.
Part 32: Page 42.
Part 33: Page 44.
Part 34: Page 47.
Part 35: Page 48.
Part 36: Page 49.
Part 37: Page 51.
Part 38: Page 52.
Part 39: Page 53.
Part 40: Page 55.
Part 41: Page 57.
Part 42: Page 59.
Part 43: Page 63.
So here's Part 1:
“Gerard!”
I spin around in the hallway and see my brother, Mikey, running towards me tugging his girlfriend Alicia behind him. I laugh and wait for them to catch up.
“Where’s the fire?” I joke, giving Alicia a peck on the cheek and my brother a slap on the back.
“Coming off the new guy’s arse!” Mikey says cryptically, and I frown, confused.
However, at that moment, Mr Pierceson, Mikey’s history teacher, walks up to us.
“Mr Way,” he says to Mikey. “Glad you have graced the school with your prescence today! Will you also be gracing my desk with your essay that was due a week ago?”
Alicia and I stand back and laugh as Mikey stutters out a response to Mr Pierceson.
“It’s all your fault,” I tease her, “All you guys ever do is bunk together!”
“I’m just giving him a good time!” she giggles. “He should look back over his teenage years fondly!”
“…so, yes, I shall have it for you by tomorrow,” Mikey ends, look much more pleased with himself.
Mr Pierceson looks sceptical, but then grunts and walks away.
“Phew,” Mikey gives us a relieved look. “That was a close one!”
“Yeah,” I say, grinning. “You almost got in trouble or something!”
Mikey laughs and we start walking down the corridor to my English room. I suddenly remember how our conversation started.
“So yeah, what were you saying about the whole fire thing?” I ask as we reach the classroom.
“Uh…nothing,” Mikey smirks. “Have a nice English lesson!”
And he and Alicia scutter off, giggling into their sleeves. I frown again but go and dump my stuff on my usual desk in a back corner of the room, letting it go. Mikey’s always acting weird, and the sentence had included the words “guy” and “arse”; he was blatantly getting at my sexuality. Obviously not in a horrible way, he was my brother and had actually seemed a little pleased when I had come out of the closet a couple of months ago! Probably relieved that he wouldn’t have to put up with any of my rubbish cover-up stories when he found me in the basement with some guy!
I sink into my chair and pull out my sketchbook from my tattered black canvas bag. I flip it open and lie it on my desk, grabbing a drawing pen out of my jeans pocket so I can start colouring in my new superhero's hair - jet black of course. I am so absorbed in making it flick around his face just right that I barely register Mr Harris walking in and starting to talk about our up-coming assignment. But then I hear a sentence that makes me look up.
"We have a new guy in the class today," Mr Harris is saying, motioning towards the door.
"Everyone, meet Frank Iero."
My gaze flits over to the direction he's pointing to, and have to stop myself gasping.
Framed perfectly in the open door is a boy who can only be described, by me at least, as beautiful. He's not very tall, a little bit shorter then me, but he's gorgeously skinny; dressed in a black Smashing Pumpkins t-shirt pulled nice and taught over his chest and tight denim jeans held up loosely by a thick studded belt. His jeans are just low enough to see a glimpse of the deep purple colour of his boxer band and his smooth, sculpted hips. His hair is shortish at the back, but with a long side fringe sweeping along the side of his face. I breathe deeply as I imagine myself pulling those hard, firm hips towards me...