a/n: once more this chapter's gonna have some stuff alluding to sexual content - and also a bit of nudity. this is mostly just more of the two getting more comfortable with each other tho
When you woke up the next morning, you found yourself laying down next to Gerard; he was fast asleep, his arm was splayed lazily across your torso in a half hug, and he was visibly lacking a shirt. The evidence of the night's activities were scattered across the floor, with some of your clothes strewn on the carpet, though not off of them, since your own shirt was still on you.
To be fair, you two hadn't gone incredibly far. It was quick, what you'd done, gentle and quick.
You glanced around, before sitting up slowly, and scratching the back of your head, in a silent daze of disbelief. Had that genuinely happened? Did you have, y'know, well — did you make love with Gerard Way?
You looked down, and saw him again, his sleeping expression peaceful and content. Well, there was your answer. You let out a massive breath of air, digesting the event, and then pinched yourself to make sure you were alive.
The little 'oww' you let out after you did that caused Gerard to shift next to you, and pat at where you'd once been, mumbling, "Baby? Where'd you go?"
You practically short-circuited, and then waved a hand in front of him to alert him to your presence. "I'm just here," you chuckled, "haven't gone anywhere yet."
He squinted up at you, before turning to lie on his back, with a whine; "What's the time?" he asked with a yawn.
"Uh," you pulled your watch off the bedside table, "it's... eleven. Do you want breakfast? Actually wait, I don't think I have anything in the fridge..." you trailed off worriedly.
"It's fine, we can go out and eat somewhere," he offered, reaching out and touching your wrist.
"Aren't you expected at home?" you questioned, "I mean, we didn't exactly plan... this," you coughed, feeling very nervous all of a sudden.
"I can text Mike and tell him to tell Mum I won't be back for a bit," Gerard assured, grabbing his phone off the table near him, and sending a quick message, whilst grinning slightly, "why're you acting like I'm a kid? I'm 'expected at home'?"
You deadpanned, "I'm just taking precautions, Mr Way,"
"Oh, don't start with that again, please!" he begged with an overdramatic groan, pressing a hand to his forehead.
You snorted, before taking proper notice of his appearance, and offering in concern, "Do you want to use my bath?"
He paused, then replied meekly, "Can I? I feel pretty... sweaty."
What the adjective implied didn't help your state of mind, but you shoved it away — "Yeah, uh, of course. It's just the usual left is hot and right is cold tap. I've also got some shampoo and soap that you're welcome to use. I'll just get you a towel."
"Thank you," Gerard at last pushed himself upwards, and ruffled his dishevelled hair.
You, meanwhile, slid off the duvet, and grabbed a towel from the cupboard, which you'd thankfully organised beforehand. You handed it to him, trying not to look at his bare chest in fear of making him uncomfortable, then opened the door to the bathroom; he stood up, wrapping the fabric around him self consciously, before shuffling inside. He gave you a shy smile before he disappeared inside, and you returned it anxiously.
As soon as you shut the door, you turned to your mattress with a straight face. "Those were clean sheets I put on yesterday," you whispered to yourself, "clean, and now — ugh," you cut yourself off with an annoyed sigh, before beginning the process of stripping the bed, to put the cloths in the wash.
You continued the domestic activities, taking the dirty sheets to the washing machine, and putting it on with another bunch of clothes you'd forgotten to wash out. You popped in and out of the room, as you put some fresh covers on your bed, and then was about to begin the task of looking up where you could possibly get breakfast, when something interrupted you.
Your name was called from the bathroom. It had only been about fifteen minutes, so you were a little concerned, as you approached the door. "Is something wrong?" you questioned skittishly.
"Umm... I just, kinda, need help with something," Gerard responded, sounding pretty flustered.
You shifted from foot to foot for a second, before continuing cautiously, "Okay, uh... should I come in?"
"Yeah," he answered, his voice far away and distant.
You composed yourself, before opening the door, and shuffling inside, making sure to shut it behind you. It was relatively warm inside, due to the hot water that had been run for the bath, with a bit of steam visible, and the mirror was steamed up.
Gerard peered up at you, from where he sat in the tub, hair wet against his scalp; "Hey," he smiled shyly, lifting an arm self-consciously to hide his chest.
You were a little confused, he'd been very open last night — perhaps too open, some could argue — but perhaps the heat of the moment had let his insecurities slip away. With that in mind, you approached him slowly, before sitting down gently at the side, where a stool was conveniently placed.
"What do you need help with?" you asked, with a small smile.
"Could you clean my back for me? I can't reach it," Gerard admitted, swallowing nervously.
You nodded, and took the flannel off the side of the sink, and dipped it into the mildly hot water; Gerard leaned forwards, so that you'd have better access, and you began to move it softly up and down his flesh. You noted his freckles, which he attempted to conceal, dotted along his shoulders and parts of his back. It turned out that his skin was easily irritated, since there were some red marks where he'd been lying on the sheets previously, carved in like scars.
He was so fucking beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful.
You felt your heart thump in your ribcage so hard you thought he might hear it — but you continued to wash him, despite your hand beginning to shake slightly.
You stopped, because Gerard moved to look at you more clearly; his eyes met yours, and he tilted his head a little, pink lips parting in thought. Then he grasped the back of your neck, and pulled you down tenderly for a kiss, cradling your face, lips pushing clumsily against yours for around seven seconds, as he struggled to separate himself from you.
When he at last moved away, leaving you a bit stunned, he budged over in the bath, and glanced up at you, a nonverbal invitation to get in with him. You hesitated at first, but then stood up, and took your clothes off carefully, all too aware of the fact that you were now fully naked, before stepping over the side, and lowering yourself in, also trying your hardest not to show too much of yourself.
He watched you for a second, before shuffling forwards, and pulling you into a damp hug, bare chest pressing against yours; the realisation that there wasn't a thing between you at last sunk in, you were both exposing yourselves to one another completely. The water sloshed in the bathtub as you shifted your legs, and you looked up to find him looking at you, and a minute of silence intervened.
You two sat there, taking in each other, staring at your most vulnerable. You traced every curve of his body, every inch of his being with your eyes, and he did the same to you. Then, you reached out, and touched the soft outline of his cheek, brushing past his wonderful hair. "You're so pretty," you stated honestly.
Gerard flushed, before he turned his head to kiss your palm shyly as a response. With his own burst of confidence, he allowed his fingers to flutter against your collarbone, and when you didn't push him away or say no, he drew a wet line along the top of your torso, and leaned forwards to kiss your shoulder gently.
You briefly stroked down his arm, before moving down to hold his waist, and rubbing circles with your thumbs. He inhaled sharply, then laughed sheepishly, "Sorry, I'm flabby down there."
"Gerard," you said seriously, using your hand to push his head up so he could see how sincere you were. "You're stunning. Maybe not to yourself, or to some other people, but you are to me. Okay? So don't you dare apologise for a single thing about yourself."
His face was still adopting an embarrassed red, and he squirmed slightly in the water. "You certainly know how to make a guy feel special," he joked. Then he paused, and confessed, "No one's ever said that to me before. Regarding my body, I mean. I'm used to the compliments about my face, but... I've never had anything that nice said about me about my body. Even my exes seemed kinda... hesitant about it."
"Then they're stupid," you smiled wryly. "I'd really like it if you were able to see yourself from my point of view, because I'm in awe of you."
"You're so lovely," Gerard mumbled bashfully, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
"Oh no, I'm far from such," you scoffed.
He shook his head, "No, you are. Honestly. I wouldn't be here if I thought otherwise, and I definitely wouldn't be talking to you about how I feel about my body. Only a couple of people know about that."
"Maybe to you," you conceded reluctantly.
He pulled away, to observe your expression, before asking, "Is your perception of yourself because of your mum?"
You stiffened slightly, and flicked some water aimlessly. "It wasn't that she was particularly mean to me, she was just never nice," you answered slowly.
"What do you mean by that?" Gerard pursued gently.
"She never said anything about my body — probably because she got that treatment from Grandma — but she said a lot of things about my personality and achievements. I guess that's why I'm more worried about that. I'm kinda scared," you tried to form a proper sentence, "that she'll turn out to be right one day, and that I am an anti-social, good-for-nothing waste of space who can't do anything."
"Sugar, look at me," he coaxed, tipping your chin upwards, so you could see his pretty face in all its glory, framed by his wet hair. "I wish I could change what you think about yourself, but I know that I probably can't. So I'm gonna tell you what I think you are, with no cuts. I think you're a funny, kind, introverted, awkward, perceptive person, and I am so very in love with every single part of you, darling."
You felt an odd lump in your throat, and all of a sudden you were trying not to cry, blinking hard and rubbing your eyes furiously. "No cuts, huh?" you joked weakly.
"None at all," Gerard whispered, before he kissed your lips tenderly, arms wrapped around your neck to pull you closer to him.
You spent another hour in the bath, talking, splashing each other, until you both realised that you were hungry, and that you needed some lunch. All in all, you couldn't have asked for a better 'the morning after'.
a/n - was literally just picturing this gerard all chapter