bob/girl!gerard (2)
20/12/07 20:39![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schmericaMore Girl!Gerard/Bob, about 1500 words. Because when I try to think about AUs for the meme, this is all that comes out, apparently.
The first scene is here. I seem to be writing random scenes from the universe instead of an actual story, completely with jumping around in time; take warning as needed.
*****
Gee gets married two weeks after the new album comes out. It's a sudden decision; nobody knew it was coming, not even Mikey. One day she's just Gee, and the next she's somebody's wife. (Not just somebody's; that's not fair. Henry's a good guy. They all like him. Bob likes him.)
The marriage lasts six months. They're on the road when Gee signs the divorce papers. She spends the rest of the evening with her head in Frank's lap, moaning about she's going to throw up the first time they ask her about it in an interview.
She won't, not really, Bob knows. Gee's stronger than that.
The show the next day is really good. It's brutal, sometimes, how honest Gee is with herself, how much she strips away, how much she tries to give in each show.
She never looks smaller than when she first gets offstage. She throws herself at him as soon as she sees him.
"Bryar, man, I need a fucking hug," Gee says, and she pulls him in tight. Bob wraps his arms around her and rests his nose in her hair. Gee's dripping with sweat from the show, wet and slick, her clothes sticking to her in odd places. Her hair smells strongly on dye and some kind of product.
Gee sighs deeply in his arms. "You give the best hugs in the entire fucking world," she says, and she turns her face up to him. "Thanks," she says, and she goes up on her toes and kisses him lightly on the mouth, right before Ray grabs at her, dragging her along as he rambles about one of the songs from the show.
It's later at night, at the hotel, when Gee comes to Bob's room, right before he starts thinking of going to sleep.
"Hey," Bob says.
"Hey," says Gee. She looks down at the floor and then back up at him. "I don't want to drink tonight."
"Oh," says Bob.
"Can I bum a cigarette?" Gee says, and the side of her mouth quirks into a half-smile.
Gee sits on the edge of his bed, waiting patiently. Bob's hands are shaking a little as he lights her cigarette. He can feel Gee's eyes tracking every movement of his fingers.
Bob sits down next to her, and Gee immediately leans in and rests her head against his shoulder. She breathes out a puff of smoke and turns her face slightly into Bob's neck. "Is this okay?" she mutters softly.
"I don't know," Bob says honestly, but he puts his arm over her shoulders. He's not surprised when she shifts again and tilts her head to kiss him.
She keeps her hands in his hair, just holding on at first. When Bob's hand slips under her waistband, she tugs, and then harder when he brushes his fingers up and down her inner thigh.
Gee says, "Bob. Bob--"
She clamps her thighs down tight around his hand when he touches her. One finger inside her, then two, and she's soft and wet and scalding hot. She still has her shirt on, pushed up just far enough that he can see her breasts, trace the edge of her areolae with his tongue where they peek above the cups of her bra.
Gee's mouth is closed, her breath coming out as a sharp hiss between her teeth. When Bob looks at her, her head is thrown back against the pillow, her hair surrounding her in a mess of fine knots. She's biting her lower lip fiercely. She catches his eye and says, "Christ, Bob."
Bob has never wanted to fuck someone so badly in his life. His dick aches with it. He's praying for her to come, come, please come, please, and then she does, the tremor shaking all through her and all through him, as she gasps out a surprised-sounding laugh.
"Oh, god," Gee says. She pushes herself up on her elbows and smiles at him, almost shyly. "If you want to -- if you sit on the bed, I can give you a blowjob."
He sits. She kisses him again before she kneels down. She gathers up her hair in her hands, like she's putting it in a ponytail, and says, "Hold my hair back for me." He reaches out to do it, and the clutch of her thick rope of hair against the back of her head makes a memory flash in his head (before he joined the band, on tour with them in Europe, he'd found her on her knees before some random guy in a back room, who was laughing hysterically while Gee puked at his feet, and his dick still poking up wet into the air. Bob had pulled her up, helped her to the bathroom, sat there next to her for an hour before Brian found them and told Bob it was okay and that he'd take care of it from there).
He blinks and looks down again to Gee's face. Her eyes are still lined thick with kohl from the show and her mouth is half open, gazing with concentration at Bob's dick. Bob makes a quiet noise, almost a grunt, when she puts her hands on him. She jacks him off slowly, letting one hand leave his dick on the end of each stroke while the other hand starts again from the base. She stops, leaving her fist wrapped around him, and she licks her lips, and then her mouth is on Bob's dick.
With her free hand, Gee is clutching Bob's thigh. Her nails are pressed into his skin, not long but still sharp, digging in hard so it hurts. Even the hurt feels good right now, the little clash of something else against all the good feelings that he's getting from Gee's mouth and Gee's tongue and Gee's lips.
Bob closes his eyes, but he changes his mind immediately; he has to open them again. Gee's mouth is so fucking wide around him. He reaches out with his free hand, stretching out one finger just to touch, right where her lip is stretched tight, and she moves back, sucking his finger in, too.
"Fuck," Bob groans.
Gee swallows, when he comes. She works her throat for a couple of seconds, and then reaches for a water bottle on the nightstand. She takes a sip, lets out a deep breath, and rubs her face with the back of her hand.
She stands up and crawls onto the bed, falling onto her back on the mattress and folding her hands over her chest. "This is the part," she says, eye closed, "where you cuddle me all night long, okay?"
"Yeah," Bob says, through the scratchy constriction in his throat. He turns out the light and then lies down beside her, his front to her back. When he throws one arm over her waist, she makes a low noise and pushes herself back against him with a sigh.
He kisses her neck where it's stretched out, long and white. They fall asleep.
*****
On the bus, the next day, Mikey sits down beside him and gives him a long, silent look.
Bob says, "What?"
Mikey shrugs and takes two Tootsie-Pops out of his hoodie pocket. He gives Bob the purple one and keeps the red one for himself.
"Thanks," Bob says as he unwraps his.
They both sit, sucking on the candy, for a couple minutes without a word until Mikey says, "It'll be okay."
Bob looks over, and Mikey's looking at him a little sad and a little thoughtful behind his calm face. "What?" Bob says again.
"Gee," Mikey says simply. "It'll be okay. She's just. You know. She's kind of stupid sometimes." He shrugs again.
Bob thinks about how Gee woke up this morning and smiled and ruffled his hair when he brought her coffee. He thinks about how she looks tired again today, and how she thanked him for being such a good friend, and how she's curled up alone in the corner right now, ignoring all of them so she can draw in her sketchbook, picture after pictures that she frowns at, exes out and crumbles into balls that she drops by her feet.
"Okay," Bob says slowly. "Thanks, Mikey."
Mikey nods, and they go back to their suckers in companionable silence.
The first scene is here. I seem to be writing random scenes from the universe instead of an actual story, completely with jumping around in time; take warning as needed.
*****
Gee gets married two weeks after the new album comes out. It's a sudden decision; nobody knew it was coming, not even Mikey. One day she's just Gee, and the next she's somebody's wife. (Not just somebody's; that's not fair. Henry's a good guy. They all like him. Bob likes him.)
The marriage lasts six months. They're on the road when Gee signs the divorce papers. She spends the rest of the evening with her head in Frank's lap, moaning about she's going to throw up the first time they ask her about it in an interview.
She won't, not really, Bob knows. Gee's stronger than that.
The show the next day is really good. It's brutal, sometimes, how honest Gee is with herself, how much she strips away, how much she tries to give in each show.
She never looks smaller than when she first gets offstage. She throws herself at him as soon as she sees him.
"Bryar, man, I need a fucking hug," Gee says, and she pulls him in tight. Bob wraps his arms around her and rests his nose in her hair. Gee's dripping with sweat from the show, wet and slick, her clothes sticking to her in odd places. Her hair smells strongly on dye and some kind of product.
Gee sighs deeply in his arms. "You give the best hugs in the entire fucking world," she says, and she turns her face up to him. "Thanks," she says, and she goes up on her toes and kisses him lightly on the mouth, right before Ray grabs at her, dragging her along as he rambles about one of the songs from the show.
It's later at night, at the hotel, when Gee comes to Bob's room, right before he starts thinking of going to sleep.
"Hey," Bob says.
"Hey," says Gee. She looks down at the floor and then back up at him. "I don't want to drink tonight."
"Oh," says Bob.
"Can I bum a cigarette?" Gee says, and the side of her mouth quirks into a half-smile.
Gee sits on the edge of his bed, waiting patiently. Bob's hands are shaking a little as he lights her cigarette. He can feel Gee's eyes tracking every movement of his fingers.
Bob sits down next to her, and Gee immediately leans in and rests her head against his shoulder. She breathes out a puff of smoke and turns her face slightly into Bob's neck. "Is this okay?" she mutters softly.
"I don't know," Bob says honestly, but he puts his arm over her shoulders. He's not surprised when she shifts again and tilts her head to kiss him.
She keeps her hands in his hair, just holding on at first. When Bob's hand slips under her waistband, she tugs, and then harder when he brushes his fingers up and down her inner thigh.
Gee says, "Bob. Bob--"
She clamps her thighs down tight around his hand when he touches her. One finger inside her, then two, and she's soft and wet and scalding hot. She still has her shirt on, pushed up just far enough that he can see her breasts, trace the edge of her areolae with his tongue where they peek above the cups of her bra.
Gee's mouth is closed, her breath coming out as a sharp hiss between her teeth. When Bob looks at her, her head is thrown back against the pillow, her hair surrounding her in a mess of fine knots. She's biting her lower lip fiercely. She catches his eye and says, "Christ, Bob."
Bob has never wanted to fuck someone so badly in his life. His dick aches with it. He's praying for her to come, come, please come, please, and then she does, the tremor shaking all through her and all through him, as she gasps out a surprised-sounding laugh.
"Oh, god," Gee says. She pushes herself up on her elbows and smiles at him, almost shyly. "If you want to -- if you sit on the bed, I can give you a blowjob."
He sits. She kisses him again before she kneels down. She gathers up her hair in her hands, like she's putting it in a ponytail, and says, "Hold my hair back for me." He reaches out to do it, and the clutch of her thick rope of hair against the back of her head makes a memory flash in his head (before he joined the band, on tour with them in Europe, he'd found her on her knees before some random guy in a back room, who was laughing hysterically while Gee puked at his feet, and his dick still poking up wet into the air. Bob had pulled her up, helped her to the bathroom, sat there next to her for an hour before Brian found them and told Bob it was okay and that he'd take care of it from there).
He blinks and looks down again to Gee's face. Her eyes are still lined thick with kohl from the show and her mouth is half open, gazing with concentration at Bob's dick. Bob makes a quiet noise, almost a grunt, when she puts her hands on him. She jacks him off slowly, letting one hand leave his dick on the end of each stroke while the other hand starts again from the base. She stops, leaving her fist wrapped around him, and she licks her lips, and then her mouth is on Bob's dick.
With her free hand, Gee is clutching Bob's thigh. Her nails are pressed into his skin, not long but still sharp, digging in hard so it hurts. Even the hurt feels good right now, the little clash of something else against all the good feelings that he's getting from Gee's mouth and Gee's tongue and Gee's lips.
Bob closes his eyes, but he changes his mind immediately; he has to open them again. Gee's mouth is so fucking wide around him. He reaches out with his free hand, stretching out one finger just to touch, right where her lip is stretched tight, and she moves back, sucking his finger in, too.
"Fuck," Bob groans.
Gee swallows, when he comes. She works her throat for a couple of seconds, and then reaches for a water bottle on the nightstand. She takes a sip, lets out a deep breath, and rubs her face with the back of her hand.
She stands up and crawls onto the bed, falling onto her back on the mattress and folding her hands over her chest. "This is the part," she says, eye closed, "where you cuddle me all night long, okay?"
"Yeah," Bob says, through the scratchy constriction in his throat. He turns out the light and then lies down beside her, his front to her back. When he throws one arm over her waist, she makes a low noise and pushes herself back against him with a sigh.
He kisses her neck where it's stretched out, long and white. They fall asleep.
*****
On the bus, the next day, Mikey sits down beside him and gives him a long, silent look.
Bob says, "What?"
Mikey shrugs and takes two Tootsie-Pops out of his hoodie pocket. He gives Bob the purple one and keeps the red one for himself.
"Thanks," Bob says as he unwraps his.
They both sit, sucking on the candy, for a couple minutes without a word until Mikey says, "It'll be okay."
Bob looks over, and Mikey's looking at him a little sad and a little thoughtful behind his calm face. "What?" Bob says again.
"Gee," Mikey says simply. "It'll be okay. She's just. You know. She's kind of stupid sometimes." He shrugs again.
Bob thinks about how Gee woke up this morning and smiled and ruffled his hair when he brought her coffee. He thinks about how she looks tired again today, and how she thanked him for being such a good friend, and how she's curled up alone in the corner right now, ignoring all of them so she can draw in her sketchbook, picture after pictures that she frowns at, exes out and crumbles into balls that she drops by her feet.
"Okay," Bob says slowly. "Thanks, Mikey."
Mikey nods, and they go back to their suckers in companionable silence.
(no subject)
21/12/07 14:42 (UTC)And I can't decide if Mikey is saying the right thing or the wrong thing, which I think is about par for the course with him. :D
I adore this.
(no subject)
21/12/07 20:38 (UTC)(BOB!)