Fic: The Penitence Ball
title: The Penitence Ball
pairing: Frank/Gerard
rating: NC-17
words: 4600+
summary: Frank gets in a little trouble at school.
warning: spanking as a punishment, BDSM themes, religious (Catholic) themes, mentions of crossdressing. also, math.
a/n1: a major thank you to giddy_london; I sent this to her accompanied by lots of "OMG WHAT DID I JUST DO?" comments, and she then convinced me it was worth finishing. also, a big thank you to maryangel200, who also convinced me it was worth it. or maybe they're just as perverted as me. ♥
a/n2: I'm not Catholic and I didn't go to school, so I'm probably getting a lot of things wrong, but just suspend your disbelief a little. and I'm sorry, I'M SORRY, I just have a Catholic kink. /o\ I have the Catholic guilt to go with it, too.
a/n3: betaed by me, title and cut-tag from The End by MCR.
Numbers danced in front of Frank’s eyes, blurring as his eyelids slipped closed. His chin fell off his hand and his head fell forwards; he snapped back up in a move that made his brain feel like it got left behind, instantly wide awake and alert, but it was too late. Sister Margaret was stomping down his row with her ruler gripped tightly in both hands. Frank lowered both hands to his desk and clasped them together, bowing his head meekly.
“Iero,” she barked. “Were you sleeping in my class?”
“No ma’am,” Frank mumbled, “I just slipped, I’m sorry.” Normally he would’ve snapped back, but he was exhausted and his ass was still sore from yesterday, and he just couldn’t handle antagonizing the nuns today.
She glared at him, but Frank had long ago perfected the art of appearing innocent. Usually he just didn’t bother. “You’re on my last nerve, son,” she hissed, and returned to the front of the classroom. As soon as her eyes were off him, Frank slouched in his seat and blinked blearily at his math book.
***
Mikey wasn’t home, but Frank didn’t care. He waved to Mrs. Way and stumbled down the stairs to Gerard’s room, in the basement. The three of them hung out together most days; Gerard and Mikey got along like no other brothers Frank knew. They were more like best friends than brothers, and Frank was in on that. It felt almost like they were family, and Mrs. Way treated him like her third kid, even when he insisted on calling her “Mrs. Way”. He loved going over to their house.
“Hey,” Gerard said when Frank entered, like he knew Frank was coming. He was sitting at his computer, and he didn’t look at Frank. He was a master of carrying on conversations without making eye contact at all.
“Hey,” Frank replied. He dumped his school bag and threw himself onto the ragged, beat-up couch, already pulling at his tie.
“How was school?” Gerard didn’t go to school, though Frank was almost certain he should be in his senior year now. Frank wasn’t sure if he actually graduated high school early or just stopped going, but he never mentioned that or college, or even the desire to leave his basement.
“Sister Mary-Katherine gave me detention twice this week and I barely escaped Sister Margaret’s class without getting my ass whipped,” Frank droned.
“What did you do?”
“Fell asleep. She doesn’t like that, apparently. And I was late to Mary-Kay’s class, so I have to stay after school on Wednesday and Friday. Fucking hell, can you just put me out of my misery?”
“What do you have to do in detention, anyway?” Gerard asked innocently. Apparently he’d been the kind of student that all the teachers loved, even when he fucked up.
“Sometimes I clean up after them, sometimes I write lines, sometimes they just hate me enough to slap me a few good ones and let me go.”
“Slap you? Seriously?”
“Yeah, man,” Frank sighed, closing his eyes and sinking into the couch a little more. “My ass is so sore from yesterday, you would not believe.”
Gerard finally turned away from his desk, spinning his chair around to face Frank. “They still do that? I thought it was illegal.”
“Apparently not in Catholic school,” Frank groaned. “Dude, what the fuck, how did you not know this?”
“I didn’t go to Catholic school, duh,” Gerard replied, and Frank could visualize the accompanying eyeroll. “What do they do to you?”
“What, you want a fucking play-by-play?”
“You’ve never said anything about it before!” Gerard cried. “Or if you have, I thought you were fucking joking. What’s the deal?”
Frank sighed again and sat up. “I piss them off, they call me into detention, I go in, I get my ass kicked, then I go home and sleep on my stomach.”
“Frank,” Gerard said seriously. “Please tell me.”
Frank rolled his eyes and after a brief hesitation, nodded. Gerard was so fucking earnest about it that Frank didn’t have the heart to keep it from him.
“It’s different depending on what I did,” Frank explained slowly. “The time I set my locker on fire, that was a big one. They had me stay late after school and write lines, then Sister Margaret came in with a paddle, had me take my pants down, and made me count to thirty. I could barely sit down the rest of the week. But like, the time I got caught smoking outside, or skateboarding on school property, those were fine. A few whacks with a ruler and they let me go.”
“Jesus Christ,” Gerard breathed. “I didn’t think that kind of thing still happened, these days.”
“Well, either it happens, or they have it out for me and it just happens to me, whatever.”
“I saw something online,” Gerard began thoughtfully, “about fetishes, you know? And there’s a ton of people who have this Catholic fetish, whether it’s confession or nuns or uniforms or whatever. Anyway, I just wondered how that kind of thing developed. Like, are most of those people Catholic? Or do Catholics really not get off on that and they’re all like, atheists or something? I don’t know, I just thought it was interesting.”
“What,” Frank replied, “you want to know if I have a Catholic fetish? Like getting off on nuns or something?”
Gerard shrugged.
“I don’t have a thing for nuns. They’re old and creepy and evil and they all hate me.”
“Not nuns, then.”
“And confession fucking sucks, dude, you don’t even know.”
“So not that, either. Whatever.”
“I have to tell the priest how many times I jacked off to thoughts of dicks,” Frank blurted, and instantly flushed bright red. He hadn’t meant to say that. He’d basically just come out to Gerard.
Gerard paused for a few eternal seconds, and then finally asked, “You think of that?”
“Um,” Frank replied cleverly. “Yeah.”
“Oh. I just didn’t know. You never told me, so I assumed-”
“Oh, well, yeah, I may have kind of led you on like that,” Frank mumbled. “I didn’t want you to think-”
“Frankie, shut the fuck up,” Gerard interrupted smoothly. “You know me. I’d never think less of you for something like who you think of when your hand’s on your dick.”
Frank grabbed onto that statement and decided to go for all the marbles. “What if I thought of you? Would you care then?”
“Do you think of me?” Gerard asked, and he sounded so innocently curious that Frank almost didn’t believe he was having this conversation. Maybe he’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream.
Instead of answering, Frank tilted forward and closed the short distance between them, pressing his lips gently to Gerard’s.
“Oh,” Gerard said. “Wow.”
“Wow?”
“Cool.”
“Seriously?”
Gerard reached up and ran his fingers through Frank’s hair, pulling him in for another chaste kiss.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Frank breathed.
“Yeah, c’mere,” Gerard replied, and pulled Frank off the couch and into his lap. Frank thought nothing of it and straddled him, grabbing hold of the back of the chair to stay on. Gerard’s arms wound around his back to hold him close as they kissed again, this time with tongues and soft noises and Frank rapidly losing brain function.
They kissed for an absurdly long time, slowly becoming more and more heated and intense, until Frank finally growled and grabbed a handful of Gerard’s hair to turn him to a better position. Gerard retaliated by slapping his hand lightly on the top of Frank’s ass, since it was in the vicinity anyway, and Frank surprised even himself by letting out a small sound, like “Nnngh.”
Gerard pulled back a few inches and caught Frank’s eye, then, very deliberately, pulled his hand back and slapped him again. Frank gasped and rocked his hips down into Gerard’s lap. Gerard smiled. “I think we found your fetish,” he whispered.
***
They didn’t actually fuck until the next time Mikey went out after school, leaving them alone, a few weeks later. There was a lot of sloppy, wet kissing, a lot of Frank almost freaking out and worrying about making a mess of Gerard’s already messy bed, and a lot of Gerard exploring Frank’s naked body with his teeth. Gerard spanked him three times while he fucked Frank, and each time, Frank pushed his ass back towards Gerard’s hand, towards his cock, and made wordless noises, begging for more.
After, when they were curled, naked, beneath a fleece blanket on the couch, Gerard whispered, “Next time those nuns hit you, think of me instead.”
Frank blushed and smiled, and rubbed his nose on Gerard’s pale shoulder. “You’re going to get me expelled,” he murmured back.
“At least you’ll have fun,” Gerard replied with a grin.
***
Frank had to admit he was baiting Sister Margaret. He’d played up the good boy image for the last month or so, gone several weeks without trouble or detention, and his ass was only sore from Gerard’s dick, not the nuns’ rulers.
He deliberately said “fuck” in a snappy, biting comeback, the one word guaranteed to set the old women off, and Sister Margaret stomped down the aisle, this time whacking her ruler against her own palm menacingly.
“What did you say to me?”
“I said this class is fucking bullshit,” Frank repeated innocently.
“Get out of my classroom. Go to the detention hall now, and see me after class is over.”
Frank gathered his things and spent the rest of the period reading comic books in the library. But he did go back to Sister Margaret’s classroom after the other students had gone.
“You need the smartass knocked out of you,” she hissed as he closed the door behind him. “Bend over the desk and take your pants and underwear down.”
Frank unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and zipped his slacks, and bent over the desk. He lowered the pants to his thighs, spreading his legs to keep them there, and then did the same with his boxers. He wasn’t ashamed of being naked in front of her; she’d seen it all before. She’d even seen his bare ass before. Frank put both hands flat on the desk in front of his face.
“Count backwards from sixty by three,” she said, and Frank groaned. Fucking math-obsessed woman. “Fine,” she snapped. “From ninety, then.”
Her ruler was wooden, but it had a metal inset that Frank had forgotten about; it snapped sharply across the top of his thighs, sure to leave a welt.
“Ninety,” Frank gasped.
The ruler came down again, and this time Frank forced himself to think of Gerard.
“Eighty-seven.”
Again. Frank remembered biting Gerard’s lip when Gerard spanked him unexpectedly, and Gerard moaning as Frank’s teeth drew blood.
“Eighty…” Frank blanked on the number. Fuck counting by threes! “Eighty-four.”
Again, this time right across his ass, with enough force to make Frank press his forehead to the desk. Gerard. Gerard Gerard Gerard, Gerard’s hands, Gerard’s hands hitting him, fuck.
“Eighty-one,” Frank whispered.
“Louder.”
“Eighty-one!”
The ruler hit the top of his ass this time. Sister Margaret was certainly making use of the space. No, no no no, Gerard’s hands slapping his bare ass, Gerard’s fingers spreading him open.
“Seventy-something. Seventy-nine?”
“Count again.” Sister Margaret whacked his thigh, much lighter than the previous hits, a warning.
“Seventy-eight,” Frank hissed.
Gerard slapping him and Frank tasting blood. Gerard slicking up his cock and pressing it inside.
“Seventy-five.”
Frank could feel his dick coming to attention, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. He hoped the old nun didn’t notice. At least not right away. His ass was on fire already, but just thinking about Gerard and that first time they’d fucked, that was enough to turn the situation around in his head.
Sister Margaret snapped the ruler across the top of his thighs and Frank arched, rocking forward on the balls of his feet.
“Fuck,” he gasped, “Seventy-two.”
“I should clean out that mouth with soap,” the sister hissed. The next slap was particularly vehement.
“Sixty-nine!” Frank said, and seriously, all he could think about was “69” as a sex position. That only led to thinking about Gerard’s dick in his mouth, and Gerard’s mouth on his own, and Frank shifted his weight and leaned down more, until the bottom hem of his shirt just barely brushed over the head of his cock.
Sister Margaret didn’t let up. She kept up a steady pace even when Frank hesitated on the numbers. Frank thought about how red his ass was going to be, what Gerard would say when Frank went over to his house later. Whether Gerard would fuck him like this, bent over his desk, with his ass burning.
On number fifty-four, Frank couldn’t hold back any longer and let out a loud moan, his back arched sharply he threw his head back as he gasped for breath. “Oh, fuck, please,” he whined. His cock was aching for attention, his ass and thighs were throbbing to the rapid beat of his heart and it felt like his skin was on fire. The old nun stepped to the side and finally noticed the fairly obvious hard-on between Frank’s legs.
She slapped him with an open palm and Frank didn’t even bother to count it, though it did really fucking hurt, almost more than the ruler, which had begun to seem monotonous. Frank bit down on his tongue, almost hard enough to draw blood, to keep from moaning again.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she spat angrily. “This is absolutely appalling behavior, boy.”
Frank nodded, whatever; his face flushed, he could feel the heat rising up his throat and cheeks, but it wasn’t from shame. He was still hard as a fucking rock, even after that.
“I will be speaking to the headmaster about you,” Sister Margaret said sternly. “And you will go straight to confession when I’m through with you, and repent for all you’ve done today. Do you understand me, Iero?”
Frank made a noise low in the back of his throat, not even really listening to the old woman. Then she reached down and grabbed his chin, wrenching his head up and to the side until he met her eyes.
“Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Frank gasped.
“Apologize with each one,” she instructed, and whacked him hard.
Frank rocked forward with the force of it, riding it out, and said, clearly, “Fifty-one, I’m sorry.”
“Are you truly sorry yet?”
“Forty-eight,” Frank groaned, “I’m sorry, please-” He made up his mind to ask Gerard to do this to him, make him count the slaps, because Gerard would use his open hand and his palm would be burning, Frank knew, maybe not as bad as his ass, but Gerard would feel it, and he would know.
“Forty-five. I’m suh… I’m sorry.” Frank’s mouth dropped open. His lips were wet, from all the times he’d been biting and licking them to distract himself, and a wet drop of saliva slid down to his chin. With his hands on the desk, Frank couldn’t wipe it away. He imagined Gerard in front of him, maybe himself on his knees while Gerard sat on that grimy old couch, and Gerard slowly unzipping his jeans.
“Forty… Forty-two.” Frank licked his lips, almost tasting the hot precome on his tongue, and just barely remembered to add his “I’m sorry,” to the end of it.
Sister Margaret brought the ruler down on him at an angle she hadn’t used before and a fresh stripe of fiery pain burst through Frank’s little fantasy bubble.
“Thirty-nine, oh god,” Frank cried, dropping to his elbows on the desk, as his arms couldn’t hold him anymore.
“You’re praying now, Iero?” Sister Margaret asked wickedly. “Get up and apologize.”
Frank pushed himself weakly off the desktop, arms shaking and fingers clutching at the wood. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Better,” she replied, and moved around to the other side of him to continue the punishment.
“Thirty-six,” Frank said through gritted teeth. “Sorry.”
Gerard would be so much better than this, though. He would slip his hand between Frank’s legs and stroke him, and pet Frank’s hair and tell him how pretty he looked with his skin so red.
“Thirty-two. I’m sorry.”
“Count again, boy,” Sister Margaret hissed, pushing one hand down sharply on the crown of his head, almost making his forehead collide with the desk. “Concentrate.”
The hard-on that still hadn’t gone down at all was making it a little hard to concentrate on anything other than getting off. Frank wondered if he’d be able to last until he got to Gerard’s house, or if he just needed to take care of it himself. Mikey might be home anyway, and Frank and Gerard wouldn’t get any time alone. Or maybe, Frank thought, he would just spontaneously combust right here on Sister Margaret’s desk. The combined heat of his ass and his dick, and the flush of his cheeks, made that feel like an increasingly possible outcome.
It would suck to get come all over the desk, though. Frank was pretty sure Sister Margaret would not be happy about that.
“Thirty-three,” he finally replied, and added “I’m sorry,” to keep on her good side.
“Don’t push me,” she hissed.
“Thirty, I’m sorry,” Frank whispered. The final countdown. He didn’t know how much longer his legs would hold him up. Walking home was no longer an option. Maybe Gerard would pick him up if this made him miss the late bus.
The next few came in rapid succession, and Frank almost wasn’t able to keep up, though he did, at least, say the right number each time. His knees felt suddenly weak and he scratched hard at the desk to keep himself upright. His voice wavered between sharp, loud cries and mumbled whispers, when he thought he might break down and just sob. There were already tears on his cheeks that he hadn’t really noticed before.
“Fifteen,” he called, “shit, I’m sorry.” He knew these last few were going to be bad.
Gerard would take care of him afterwards, Frank was absolutely sure. Maybe an ice pack and some cuddles in front of the TV, and that really soft fleece blanket and Gerard’s naked body pressed up against him everywhere it hurt, soothing and cool and holding him close.
Twelve; Frank thought he heard the ruler crack, but no, it just came down again, sharp and unforgiving as ever. Nine. Sister Margaret was stepping up the force, too, and Frank was almost ready to scream. Six, and Frank actually did scream. It certainly wasn’t the worst pain he’d ever felt, but he had to admit it was getting up there.
His erection was flagging a little, but still making itself known. Frank hunched over the desk and breathed as deeply as he could. He couldn’t quite get enough air in, and his brain was a little hazy, blurred with pain and lust. He would be short of breath if Gerard was kissing him. Gerard was insistent like that, nipping at Frank’s lips and thrusting his tongue inside Frank’s mouth until Frank felt weak.
“Three, I’m sorry!” Frank shouted. He bit his own lip, like Gerard might have, and lifted his head to stare at the ceiling. One more, and he was free. One more, and he could finally go to Gerard and have this end, and have Gerard kiss him and soothe him and make it better.
The last slap of the ruler across his ass burned like nothing else, and Frank only managed to stay upright because Sister Margaret was pinching his ear and twisting his head to the side.
“I sincerely hope you’ve learned something here today,” she said firmly. “Now get off my desk and go to the chapel. You’re dismissed, you disgusting boy.”
She flung him away and Frank let himself fall to his knees. His arms and legs felt like jelly, and he had to hunch over so his shoes didn’t scrape across the welts on his ass. He didn’t think he could walk. On top of the pain, there was still his hard-on to deal with. Frank gasped, sucking in lungfuls of air and almost making himself cough, and finally summoned the will to lift up his pants and button them again.
It took several minutes to walk the short distance to the school’s chapel, Frank clutching at doorknobs and lockers along the way. When he entered, he crossed himself out of habit and looked around for Father Colby.
He was up at the front, talking to a young girl Frank didn’t know and the girl’s mother. Using the back pew as a crutch, Frank made his way into the confessional and instantly dropped to his knees inside.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against the partition. He couldn’t wait anymore. He undid his pants and pushed them down around his knees. The cool air felt awesome on his burning skin, but that’s not what he wanted. Frank grabbed his cock with his right hand and with his left, he reached back and rubbed his palm over the top of his ass. He could feel the raised marks the ruler had left, still vivid and warm on his skin.
He imagined how red his skin must be, and how hot that must look. Then he remembered the girl outside, and her uniform skirt. Fuck, he thought, how amazing would that be, to dress up for Gerard that way, so Gerard would only have to lift the hem to see the welts across Frank’s ass, just lift up the skirt to fuck him, they wouldn’t even have to get undressed. It would probably feel pretty great, having the blue and white pleats shift against the welts as he walked. Frank wondered if the low marks on his thighs would be visible even with the skirt hanging normally.
Frank dug his nails into his skin and groaned, fisting his cock rapidly. He turned his head and pressed his cheek to the cool wood on the wall, eyes closed. It didn’t take him long to get off, not after the whole ordeal with Sister Margaret, and then Frank’s plan with the skirt. He needed to borrow one from a friend, as soon as possible.
Frank had barely finished stroking himself through his orgasm, Gerard’s name on his lips, when Father Colby came into the opposite side of the booth. Frank sucked in a surprised breath and tried to do up his pants as quietly as possible.
It was pretty easy to lie like a rug in the confessional, because the priest couldn’t even see Frank’s face. He owned up to the erection during Sister Margaret’s punishment, though, because he knew she’d just tell the priest all about it as soon as she got the chance.
He said simply, “I like for my boyfriend to hit me when he’s fucking me,” and Father Colby made a strangled, uncomfortable noise from the other side of the partition. “So when Sister Margaret was slapping me with her ruler, it made me think of him, and yeah, I got a little aroused. That’s normal, right? Some kind of psychological association thing.” Maybe he could get Father Colby to heart-attack levels of discomfort. It wouldn’t even take much trying.
But Father Colby only said, “Have you no respect for God, Frank? Or this school and its teachers?” And then he told Frank he was suspended for the next week.
***
Frank managed to catch the last bus out, and he got off at the stop close to Mikey and Gerard’s house. The two-block walk from there to their doorstep was brutal.
“Gee?” Frank called when he finally made it to the basement. Gerard poked his head out of the bedroom and gave him a surprised look, and Frank asked, “What?”
“I thought you weren’t coming over. Didn’t you get out of school like, five hours ago?”
“I think I need to buy you a clock,” Frank mumbled tiredly. “I had to stay late,” he explained. “Want to know why?”
“Sure,” Gerard replied easily, and flopped down on the couch. “Come on, sit down with me.”
“Is Mikey home?”
“No, he’s out with some girl,” Gerard answered. “Why?”
Frank licked his lips, dropped his pants, and turned around to wait for Gerard’s soft gasp.
“Frankie-”
“Please touch me,” Frank whispered. “I need you.”
He heard Gerard moving behind him, sliding off the couch to his knees and shuffling forward, and then felt Gerard’s hands at either side of his waist, lifting his shirt up. Frank almost turned around to see, but then Gerard licked the crease of his thigh, tongue tracing one of the burning welts, and Frank nearly fell over.
“Oh,” he said, and then, because that wasn’t even close to enough, “oh, holy fuck, Gee.”
Gerard kissed him and rose to his feet, leaning in to whisper in Frank’s ear, “Go to my room and get on the bed. I’ll be right there.”
Frank hobbled into Gerard’s room and fell face-first onto the mattress, kicking off his shoes and pants with weak little motions. Getting his shirt off took more effort, because he had to loosen his tie before he could pull the whole thing over his head, but once that was done, once he was naked, Frank grabbed a pillow and made himself comfortable, subconsciously pushing his hips down into Gerard’s blankets like they were an extension of him.
When Gerard returned, he didn’t say anything, just sat down next to Frank’s legs and slid an ice cube from the back of Frank’s knee all the way up to the base of his spine. Frank flinched and shivered, but Gerard followed the ice with his lips, and that was much more welcome.
“Next time,” Frank murmured, rubbing his nose against Gerard’s pillow, “I want you to do it.”
“Do what?” Gerard asked, and Frank could feel his breath in little puffs against the curve of his ass.
“I want you to hit me like this,” Frank said clearly. “The whole time, I thought about you, and how you would look and feel and what we would do after, and how you’d fuck me, and how you’d kiss me, and I had to go jerk off in the confessional, Gerard, I had to jerk off in church because I couldn’t wait until I got here.”
Gerard kept his palm flat against Frank’s ass, the ice quickly melting between them, and trailed kisses up Frank’s spine.
“Okay,” he finally answered. “I’ll do that to you.” He kissed Frank’s shoulder, scraped his teeth there, not enough to be a real bite. “But not until you’re all healed from this.”
Frank craned his neck to look at Gerard. “Why not?”
Gerard grinned and bit down on the fleshy part of Frank’s upper arm. “Because I want a clean slate.”
Frank moaned loudly and rocked his hips into the bed.
“I want to mark you up,” Gerard continued in a low whisper. “I want you to think of me with every little bruise and welt, every time they hurt.”
“Yes,” Frank said. “Yeah, Gee, please. I got suspended, I can come over during the day, when Mikey’s at school, please, can we?”
“Not yet.”
“Gee-”
“When you’re healed,” Gerard insisted. “Until then, I’ll just take care of you.”
“Nnngh, please…”
Gerard produced another ice cube from somewhere and traced some of the marks with it. “Starting with this,” Gerard said, and gently spread Frank’s legs apart so he could reach between them and worm his hand beneath Frank’s body to close around Frank’s cock.
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah,” Gerard agreed, laying careful, wet kisses along the raised red lines on Frank’s skin. “We’ll get to that. Never said I wouldn’t do that.”
fin.
pairing: Frank/Gerard
rating: NC-17
words: 4600+
summary: Frank gets in a little trouble at school.
warning: spanking as a punishment, BDSM themes, religious (Catholic) themes, mentions of crossdressing. also, math.
a/n1: a major thank you to giddy_london; I sent this to her accompanied by lots of "OMG WHAT DID I JUST DO?" comments, and she then convinced me it was worth finishing. also, a big thank you to maryangel200, who also convinced me it was worth it. or maybe they're just as perverted as me. ♥
a/n2: I'm not Catholic and I didn't go to school, so I'm probably getting a lot of things wrong, but just suspend your disbelief a little. and I'm sorry, I'M SORRY, I just have a Catholic kink. /o\ I have the Catholic guilt to go with it, too.
a/n3: betaed by me, title and cut-tag from The End by MCR.
Numbers danced in front of Frank’s eyes, blurring as his eyelids slipped closed. His chin fell off his hand and his head fell forwards; he snapped back up in a move that made his brain feel like it got left behind, instantly wide awake and alert, but it was too late. Sister Margaret was stomping down his row with her ruler gripped tightly in both hands. Frank lowered both hands to his desk and clasped them together, bowing his head meekly.
“Iero,” she barked. “Were you sleeping in my class?”
“No ma’am,” Frank mumbled, “I just slipped, I’m sorry.” Normally he would’ve snapped back, but he was exhausted and his ass was still sore from yesterday, and he just couldn’t handle antagonizing the nuns today.
She glared at him, but Frank had long ago perfected the art of appearing innocent. Usually he just didn’t bother. “You’re on my last nerve, son,” she hissed, and returned to the front of the classroom. As soon as her eyes were off him, Frank slouched in his seat and blinked blearily at his math book.
***
Mikey wasn’t home, but Frank didn’t care. He waved to Mrs. Way and stumbled down the stairs to Gerard’s room, in the basement. The three of them hung out together most days; Gerard and Mikey got along like no other brothers Frank knew. They were more like best friends than brothers, and Frank was in on that. It felt almost like they were family, and Mrs. Way treated him like her third kid, even when he insisted on calling her “Mrs. Way”. He loved going over to their house.
“Hey,” Gerard said when Frank entered, like he knew Frank was coming. He was sitting at his computer, and he didn’t look at Frank. He was a master of carrying on conversations without making eye contact at all.
“Hey,” Frank replied. He dumped his school bag and threw himself onto the ragged, beat-up couch, already pulling at his tie.
“How was school?” Gerard didn’t go to school, though Frank was almost certain he should be in his senior year now. Frank wasn’t sure if he actually graduated high school early or just stopped going, but he never mentioned that or college, or even the desire to leave his basement.
“Sister Mary-Katherine gave me detention twice this week and I barely escaped Sister Margaret’s class without getting my ass whipped,” Frank droned.
“What did you do?”
“Fell asleep. She doesn’t like that, apparently. And I was late to Mary-Kay’s class, so I have to stay after school on Wednesday and Friday. Fucking hell, can you just put me out of my misery?”
“What do you have to do in detention, anyway?” Gerard asked innocently. Apparently he’d been the kind of student that all the teachers loved, even when he fucked up.
“Sometimes I clean up after them, sometimes I write lines, sometimes they just hate me enough to slap me a few good ones and let me go.”
“Slap you? Seriously?”
“Yeah, man,” Frank sighed, closing his eyes and sinking into the couch a little more. “My ass is so sore from yesterday, you would not believe.”
Gerard finally turned away from his desk, spinning his chair around to face Frank. “They still do that? I thought it was illegal.”
“Apparently not in Catholic school,” Frank groaned. “Dude, what the fuck, how did you not know this?”
“I didn’t go to Catholic school, duh,” Gerard replied, and Frank could visualize the accompanying eyeroll. “What do they do to you?”
“What, you want a fucking play-by-play?”
“You’ve never said anything about it before!” Gerard cried. “Or if you have, I thought you were fucking joking. What’s the deal?”
Frank sighed again and sat up. “I piss them off, they call me into detention, I go in, I get my ass kicked, then I go home and sleep on my stomach.”
“Frank,” Gerard said seriously. “Please tell me.”
Frank rolled his eyes and after a brief hesitation, nodded. Gerard was so fucking earnest about it that Frank didn’t have the heart to keep it from him.
“It’s different depending on what I did,” Frank explained slowly. “The time I set my locker on fire, that was a big one. They had me stay late after school and write lines, then Sister Margaret came in with a paddle, had me take my pants down, and made me count to thirty. I could barely sit down the rest of the week. But like, the time I got caught smoking outside, or skateboarding on school property, those were fine. A few whacks with a ruler and they let me go.”
“Jesus Christ,” Gerard breathed. “I didn’t think that kind of thing still happened, these days.”
“Well, either it happens, or they have it out for me and it just happens to me, whatever.”
“I saw something online,” Gerard began thoughtfully, “about fetishes, you know? And there’s a ton of people who have this Catholic fetish, whether it’s confession or nuns or uniforms or whatever. Anyway, I just wondered how that kind of thing developed. Like, are most of those people Catholic? Or do Catholics really not get off on that and they’re all like, atheists or something? I don’t know, I just thought it was interesting.”
“What,” Frank replied, “you want to know if I have a Catholic fetish? Like getting off on nuns or something?”
Gerard shrugged.
“I don’t have a thing for nuns. They’re old and creepy and evil and they all hate me.”
“Not nuns, then.”
“And confession fucking sucks, dude, you don’t even know.”
“So not that, either. Whatever.”
“I have to tell the priest how many times I jacked off to thoughts of dicks,” Frank blurted, and instantly flushed bright red. He hadn’t meant to say that. He’d basically just come out to Gerard.
Gerard paused for a few eternal seconds, and then finally asked, “You think of that?”
“Um,” Frank replied cleverly. “Yeah.”
“Oh. I just didn’t know. You never told me, so I assumed-”
“Oh, well, yeah, I may have kind of led you on like that,” Frank mumbled. “I didn’t want you to think-”
“Frankie, shut the fuck up,” Gerard interrupted smoothly. “You know me. I’d never think less of you for something like who you think of when your hand’s on your dick.”
Frank grabbed onto that statement and decided to go for all the marbles. “What if I thought of you? Would you care then?”
“Do you think of me?” Gerard asked, and he sounded so innocently curious that Frank almost didn’t believe he was having this conversation. Maybe he’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream.
Instead of answering, Frank tilted forward and closed the short distance between them, pressing his lips gently to Gerard’s.
“Oh,” Gerard said. “Wow.”
“Wow?”
“Cool.”
“Seriously?”
Gerard reached up and ran his fingers through Frank’s hair, pulling him in for another chaste kiss.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Frank breathed.
“Yeah, c’mere,” Gerard replied, and pulled Frank off the couch and into his lap. Frank thought nothing of it and straddled him, grabbing hold of the back of the chair to stay on. Gerard’s arms wound around his back to hold him close as they kissed again, this time with tongues and soft noises and Frank rapidly losing brain function.
They kissed for an absurdly long time, slowly becoming more and more heated and intense, until Frank finally growled and grabbed a handful of Gerard’s hair to turn him to a better position. Gerard retaliated by slapping his hand lightly on the top of Frank’s ass, since it was in the vicinity anyway, and Frank surprised even himself by letting out a small sound, like “Nnngh.”
Gerard pulled back a few inches and caught Frank’s eye, then, very deliberately, pulled his hand back and slapped him again. Frank gasped and rocked his hips down into Gerard’s lap. Gerard smiled. “I think we found your fetish,” he whispered.
***
They didn’t actually fuck until the next time Mikey went out after school, leaving them alone, a few weeks later. There was a lot of sloppy, wet kissing, a lot of Frank almost freaking out and worrying about making a mess of Gerard’s already messy bed, and a lot of Gerard exploring Frank’s naked body with his teeth. Gerard spanked him three times while he fucked Frank, and each time, Frank pushed his ass back towards Gerard’s hand, towards his cock, and made wordless noises, begging for more.
After, when they were curled, naked, beneath a fleece blanket on the couch, Gerard whispered, “Next time those nuns hit you, think of me instead.”
Frank blushed and smiled, and rubbed his nose on Gerard’s pale shoulder. “You’re going to get me expelled,” he murmured back.
“At least you’ll have fun,” Gerard replied with a grin.
***
Frank had to admit he was baiting Sister Margaret. He’d played up the good boy image for the last month or so, gone several weeks without trouble or detention, and his ass was only sore from Gerard’s dick, not the nuns’ rulers.
He deliberately said “fuck” in a snappy, biting comeback, the one word guaranteed to set the old women off, and Sister Margaret stomped down the aisle, this time whacking her ruler against her own palm menacingly.
“What did you say to me?”
“I said this class is fucking bullshit,” Frank repeated innocently.
“Get out of my classroom. Go to the detention hall now, and see me after class is over.”
Frank gathered his things and spent the rest of the period reading comic books in the library. But he did go back to Sister Margaret’s classroom after the other students had gone.
“You need the smartass knocked out of you,” she hissed as he closed the door behind him. “Bend over the desk and take your pants and underwear down.”
Frank unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and zipped his slacks, and bent over the desk. He lowered the pants to his thighs, spreading his legs to keep them there, and then did the same with his boxers. He wasn’t ashamed of being naked in front of her; she’d seen it all before. She’d even seen his bare ass before. Frank put both hands flat on the desk in front of his face.
“Count backwards from sixty by three,” she said, and Frank groaned. Fucking math-obsessed woman. “Fine,” she snapped. “From ninety, then.”
Her ruler was wooden, but it had a metal inset that Frank had forgotten about; it snapped sharply across the top of his thighs, sure to leave a welt.
“Ninety,” Frank gasped.
The ruler came down again, and this time Frank forced himself to think of Gerard.
“Eighty-seven.”
Again. Frank remembered biting Gerard’s lip when Gerard spanked him unexpectedly, and Gerard moaning as Frank’s teeth drew blood.
“Eighty…” Frank blanked on the number. Fuck counting by threes! “Eighty-four.”
Again, this time right across his ass, with enough force to make Frank press his forehead to the desk. Gerard. Gerard Gerard Gerard, Gerard’s hands, Gerard’s hands hitting him, fuck.
“Eighty-one,” Frank whispered.
“Louder.”
“Eighty-one!”
The ruler hit the top of his ass this time. Sister Margaret was certainly making use of the space. No, no no no, Gerard’s hands slapping his bare ass, Gerard’s fingers spreading him open.
“Seventy-something. Seventy-nine?”
“Count again.” Sister Margaret whacked his thigh, much lighter than the previous hits, a warning.
“Seventy-eight,” Frank hissed.
Gerard slapping him and Frank tasting blood. Gerard slicking up his cock and pressing it inside.
“Seventy-five.”
Frank could feel his dick coming to attention, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. He hoped the old nun didn’t notice. At least not right away. His ass was on fire already, but just thinking about Gerard and that first time they’d fucked, that was enough to turn the situation around in his head.
Sister Margaret snapped the ruler across the top of his thighs and Frank arched, rocking forward on the balls of his feet.
“Fuck,” he gasped, “Seventy-two.”
“I should clean out that mouth with soap,” the sister hissed. The next slap was particularly vehement.
“Sixty-nine!” Frank said, and seriously, all he could think about was “69” as a sex position. That only led to thinking about Gerard’s dick in his mouth, and Gerard’s mouth on his own, and Frank shifted his weight and leaned down more, until the bottom hem of his shirt just barely brushed over the head of his cock.
Sister Margaret didn’t let up. She kept up a steady pace even when Frank hesitated on the numbers. Frank thought about how red his ass was going to be, what Gerard would say when Frank went over to his house later. Whether Gerard would fuck him like this, bent over his desk, with his ass burning.
On number fifty-four, Frank couldn’t hold back any longer and let out a loud moan, his back arched sharply he threw his head back as he gasped for breath. “Oh, fuck, please,” he whined. His cock was aching for attention, his ass and thighs were throbbing to the rapid beat of his heart and it felt like his skin was on fire. The old nun stepped to the side and finally noticed the fairly obvious hard-on between Frank’s legs.
She slapped him with an open palm and Frank didn’t even bother to count it, though it did really fucking hurt, almost more than the ruler, which had begun to seem monotonous. Frank bit down on his tongue, almost hard enough to draw blood, to keep from moaning again.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she spat angrily. “This is absolutely appalling behavior, boy.”
Frank nodded, whatever; his face flushed, he could feel the heat rising up his throat and cheeks, but it wasn’t from shame. He was still hard as a fucking rock, even after that.
“I will be speaking to the headmaster about you,” Sister Margaret said sternly. “And you will go straight to confession when I’m through with you, and repent for all you’ve done today. Do you understand me, Iero?”
Frank made a noise low in the back of his throat, not even really listening to the old woman. Then she reached down and grabbed his chin, wrenching his head up and to the side until he met her eyes.
“Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Frank gasped.
“Apologize with each one,” she instructed, and whacked him hard.
Frank rocked forward with the force of it, riding it out, and said, clearly, “Fifty-one, I’m sorry.”
“Are you truly sorry yet?”
“Forty-eight,” Frank groaned, “I’m sorry, please-” He made up his mind to ask Gerard to do this to him, make him count the slaps, because Gerard would use his open hand and his palm would be burning, Frank knew, maybe not as bad as his ass, but Gerard would feel it, and he would know.
“Forty-five. I’m suh… I’m sorry.” Frank’s mouth dropped open. His lips were wet, from all the times he’d been biting and licking them to distract himself, and a wet drop of saliva slid down to his chin. With his hands on the desk, Frank couldn’t wipe it away. He imagined Gerard in front of him, maybe himself on his knees while Gerard sat on that grimy old couch, and Gerard slowly unzipping his jeans.
“Forty… Forty-two.” Frank licked his lips, almost tasting the hot precome on his tongue, and just barely remembered to add his “I’m sorry,” to the end of it.
Sister Margaret brought the ruler down on him at an angle she hadn’t used before and a fresh stripe of fiery pain burst through Frank’s little fantasy bubble.
“Thirty-nine, oh god,” Frank cried, dropping to his elbows on the desk, as his arms couldn’t hold him anymore.
“You’re praying now, Iero?” Sister Margaret asked wickedly. “Get up and apologize.”
Frank pushed himself weakly off the desktop, arms shaking and fingers clutching at the wood. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Better,” she replied, and moved around to the other side of him to continue the punishment.
“Thirty-six,” Frank said through gritted teeth. “Sorry.”
Gerard would be so much better than this, though. He would slip his hand between Frank’s legs and stroke him, and pet Frank’s hair and tell him how pretty he looked with his skin so red.
“Thirty-two. I’m sorry.”
“Count again, boy,” Sister Margaret hissed, pushing one hand down sharply on the crown of his head, almost making his forehead collide with the desk. “Concentrate.”
The hard-on that still hadn’t gone down at all was making it a little hard to concentrate on anything other than getting off. Frank wondered if he’d be able to last until he got to Gerard’s house, or if he just needed to take care of it himself. Mikey might be home anyway, and Frank and Gerard wouldn’t get any time alone. Or maybe, Frank thought, he would just spontaneously combust right here on Sister Margaret’s desk. The combined heat of his ass and his dick, and the flush of his cheeks, made that feel like an increasingly possible outcome.
It would suck to get come all over the desk, though. Frank was pretty sure Sister Margaret would not be happy about that.
“Thirty-three,” he finally replied, and added “I’m sorry,” to keep on her good side.
“Don’t push me,” she hissed.
“Thirty, I’m sorry,” Frank whispered. The final countdown. He didn’t know how much longer his legs would hold him up. Walking home was no longer an option. Maybe Gerard would pick him up if this made him miss the late bus.
The next few came in rapid succession, and Frank almost wasn’t able to keep up, though he did, at least, say the right number each time. His knees felt suddenly weak and he scratched hard at the desk to keep himself upright. His voice wavered between sharp, loud cries and mumbled whispers, when he thought he might break down and just sob. There were already tears on his cheeks that he hadn’t really noticed before.
“Fifteen,” he called, “shit, I’m sorry.” He knew these last few were going to be bad.
Gerard would take care of him afterwards, Frank was absolutely sure. Maybe an ice pack and some cuddles in front of the TV, and that really soft fleece blanket and Gerard’s naked body pressed up against him everywhere it hurt, soothing and cool and holding him close.
Twelve; Frank thought he heard the ruler crack, but no, it just came down again, sharp and unforgiving as ever. Nine. Sister Margaret was stepping up the force, too, and Frank was almost ready to scream. Six, and Frank actually did scream. It certainly wasn’t the worst pain he’d ever felt, but he had to admit it was getting up there.
His erection was flagging a little, but still making itself known. Frank hunched over the desk and breathed as deeply as he could. He couldn’t quite get enough air in, and his brain was a little hazy, blurred with pain and lust. He would be short of breath if Gerard was kissing him. Gerard was insistent like that, nipping at Frank’s lips and thrusting his tongue inside Frank’s mouth until Frank felt weak.
“Three, I’m sorry!” Frank shouted. He bit his own lip, like Gerard might have, and lifted his head to stare at the ceiling. One more, and he was free. One more, and he could finally go to Gerard and have this end, and have Gerard kiss him and soothe him and make it better.
The last slap of the ruler across his ass burned like nothing else, and Frank only managed to stay upright because Sister Margaret was pinching his ear and twisting his head to the side.
“I sincerely hope you’ve learned something here today,” she said firmly. “Now get off my desk and go to the chapel. You’re dismissed, you disgusting boy.”
She flung him away and Frank let himself fall to his knees. His arms and legs felt like jelly, and he had to hunch over so his shoes didn’t scrape across the welts on his ass. He didn’t think he could walk. On top of the pain, there was still his hard-on to deal with. Frank gasped, sucking in lungfuls of air and almost making himself cough, and finally summoned the will to lift up his pants and button them again.
It took several minutes to walk the short distance to the school’s chapel, Frank clutching at doorknobs and lockers along the way. When he entered, he crossed himself out of habit and looked around for Father Colby.
He was up at the front, talking to a young girl Frank didn’t know and the girl’s mother. Using the back pew as a crutch, Frank made his way into the confessional and instantly dropped to his knees inside.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against the partition. He couldn’t wait anymore. He undid his pants and pushed them down around his knees. The cool air felt awesome on his burning skin, but that’s not what he wanted. Frank grabbed his cock with his right hand and with his left, he reached back and rubbed his palm over the top of his ass. He could feel the raised marks the ruler had left, still vivid and warm on his skin.
He imagined how red his skin must be, and how hot that must look. Then he remembered the girl outside, and her uniform skirt. Fuck, he thought, how amazing would that be, to dress up for Gerard that way, so Gerard would only have to lift the hem to see the welts across Frank’s ass, just lift up the skirt to fuck him, they wouldn’t even have to get undressed. It would probably feel pretty great, having the blue and white pleats shift against the welts as he walked. Frank wondered if the low marks on his thighs would be visible even with the skirt hanging normally.
Frank dug his nails into his skin and groaned, fisting his cock rapidly. He turned his head and pressed his cheek to the cool wood on the wall, eyes closed. It didn’t take him long to get off, not after the whole ordeal with Sister Margaret, and then Frank’s plan with the skirt. He needed to borrow one from a friend, as soon as possible.
Frank had barely finished stroking himself through his orgasm, Gerard’s name on his lips, when Father Colby came into the opposite side of the booth. Frank sucked in a surprised breath and tried to do up his pants as quietly as possible.
It was pretty easy to lie like a rug in the confessional, because the priest couldn’t even see Frank’s face. He owned up to the erection during Sister Margaret’s punishment, though, because he knew she’d just tell the priest all about it as soon as she got the chance.
He said simply, “I like for my boyfriend to hit me when he’s fucking me,” and Father Colby made a strangled, uncomfortable noise from the other side of the partition. “So when Sister Margaret was slapping me with her ruler, it made me think of him, and yeah, I got a little aroused. That’s normal, right? Some kind of psychological association thing.” Maybe he could get Father Colby to heart-attack levels of discomfort. It wouldn’t even take much trying.
But Father Colby only said, “Have you no respect for God, Frank? Or this school and its teachers?” And then he told Frank he was suspended for the next week.
***
Frank managed to catch the last bus out, and he got off at the stop close to Mikey and Gerard’s house. The two-block walk from there to their doorstep was brutal.
“Gee?” Frank called when he finally made it to the basement. Gerard poked his head out of the bedroom and gave him a surprised look, and Frank asked, “What?”
“I thought you weren’t coming over. Didn’t you get out of school like, five hours ago?”
“I think I need to buy you a clock,” Frank mumbled tiredly. “I had to stay late,” he explained. “Want to know why?”
“Sure,” Gerard replied easily, and flopped down on the couch. “Come on, sit down with me.”
“Is Mikey home?”
“No, he’s out with some girl,” Gerard answered. “Why?”
Frank licked his lips, dropped his pants, and turned around to wait for Gerard’s soft gasp.
“Frankie-”
“Please touch me,” Frank whispered. “I need you.”
He heard Gerard moving behind him, sliding off the couch to his knees and shuffling forward, and then felt Gerard’s hands at either side of his waist, lifting his shirt up. Frank almost turned around to see, but then Gerard licked the crease of his thigh, tongue tracing one of the burning welts, and Frank nearly fell over.
“Oh,” he said, and then, because that wasn’t even close to enough, “oh, holy fuck, Gee.”
Gerard kissed him and rose to his feet, leaning in to whisper in Frank’s ear, “Go to my room and get on the bed. I’ll be right there.”
Frank hobbled into Gerard’s room and fell face-first onto the mattress, kicking off his shoes and pants with weak little motions. Getting his shirt off took more effort, because he had to loosen his tie before he could pull the whole thing over his head, but once that was done, once he was naked, Frank grabbed a pillow and made himself comfortable, subconsciously pushing his hips down into Gerard’s blankets like they were an extension of him.
When Gerard returned, he didn’t say anything, just sat down next to Frank’s legs and slid an ice cube from the back of Frank’s knee all the way up to the base of his spine. Frank flinched and shivered, but Gerard followed the ice with his lips, and that was much more welcome.
“Next time,” Frank murmured, rubbing his nose against Gerard’s pillow, “I want you to do it.”
“Do what?” Gerard asked, and Frank could feel his breath in little puffs against the curve of his ass.
“I want you to hit me like this,” Frank said clearly. “The whole time, I thought about you, and how you would look and feel and what we would do after, and how you’d fuck me, and how you’d kiss me, and I had to go jerk off in the confessional, Gerard, I had to jerk off in church because I couldn’t wait until I got here.”
Gerard kept his palm flat against Frank’s ass, the ice quickly melting between them, and trailed kisses up Frank’s spine.
“Okay,” he finally answered. “I’ll do that to you.” He kissed Frank’s shoulder, scraped his teeth there, not enough to be a real bite. “But not until you’re all healed from this.”
Frank craned his neck to look at Gerard. “Why not?”
Gerard grinned and bit down on the fleshy part of Frank’s upper arm. “Because I want a clean slate.”
Frank moaned loudly and rocked his hips into the bed.
“I want to mark you up,” Gerard continued in a low whisper. “I want you to think of me with every little bruise and welt, every time they hurt.”
“Yes,” Frank said. “Yeah, Gee, please. I got suspended, I can come over during the day, when Mikey’s at school, please, can we?”
“Not yet.”
“Gee-”
“When you’re healed,” Gerard insisted. “Until then, I’ll just take care of you.”
“Nnngh, please…”
Gerard produced another ice cube from somewhere and traced some of the marks with it. “Starting with this,” Gerard said, and gently spread Frank’s legs apart so he could reach between them and worm his hand beneath Frank’s body to close around Frank’s cock.
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah,” Gerard agreed, laying careful, wet kisses along the raised red lines on Frank’s skin. “We’ll get to that. Never said I wouldn’t do that.”
fin.