Figure You Out by gonnafeelgood (Teen And Up/R)

[turlough]

Fandom: BANDOM
Pairing: Bob/Gerard
Length: 4,170 words
Author on LJ: gonnafeelgood
Author on AO3: gonnafeelgood

Why this must be read: Bob thinks he wants to get into people's heads. He changes his mind on the day that he actually does. The one where Bob can suddenly read thoughts.

This is another story that I consider to be a minor classic of the fandom. It's got a wonderful Bob characterisation and it manages to be funny and sweet and serious all at once.

Excerpt from the story:

Bob thinks that he has already experienced the most annoying part of this psychic shit. He's already trying to block out Mikey's constant inner monologue about everything from Doritos to Anthrax, and Ray's philosophical musings, and Frankie overlapping his words and thoughts since the dude has absolutely zero verbal filter (which is really kind of creepy). Gerard is running from the room any time Bob walks in and... whatever. It's not like he cares or anything.

But no. As annoying as his bandmates are and as exponential as that irritation grows when he hears all of their crazy, stupid-ass thoughts, it turns out it can get much, much, much worse.

Bob isn't sure if they think that he's already asleep or what. He did retreat to his bunk a few hours ago, growling at Ray along the way after Ray just forwent speech entirely and thought at him to fuck with him in the middle of a video game, for fuck's sake. But he hasn't been sleeping, as much as he desperately wishes he could be. His iPod helps drown out the more distant thoughts and, fortunately, the rest of the guys had gone to get food somewhere. So it had been relatively quiet and he had been half-dozing.

Had been. Until they had apparently decided that it was safe to come back and go to bed. Come back, go to bed, and fucking jerk off like fucking assholes.

a flicker of Jamia's thigh, her hands moving down a tattooed stomach

full lips with a loop on the right side, blonde hair just brushing the edge of view

ohgod, right there, ohgod, ohgod, so fucking beautiful

5 o'clock shadow scratching between shoulder blades, big teeth biting the curve of ass

shh, shh, shh... can't let them hear

snatches of songs, the melody humming behind thighs and hips and stomachs, vibrating just right...

Bob groans. It's... so weird. Yeah, he knows that they jerk off in the bunks - they're in a band, not dead. But everyone's been pretty good about muffling and the basic bunk etiquette of pretending not to hear little gasps and groans. They could ignore it more or less (and Bob is not thinking about how hard he gets when he hears a particular gasp) and move on. But he can't ignore this, can't stop seeing flashes of images and smells and songs (songs? What the fuck, Toro?).

arching arching arching, shaking with want, can't yet can't yet

tongue circling in and in and in, licking a long slow stripe up

deep baseline, shaking from the feet up

small hands jerking in time with a mouth moving over cock, tongue pulsing

strong thighs, wide smile, so much so much

calloused hands holding shoulders against the bed, demanding, "be quiet"

ohgod ohgod, jesus fuck ohgod

Bob doesn't jerk off. He can't. It's all too loud and confusing and disjointed, too much fucking beautiful and sexy and kind of confusing and even though his dick is into it, his head knows it's wrong.

Almost an hour later, they all seem to have drifted off to sleep, their thoughts flickering in and out, quieter.

Bob buries his head under his pillow, hands shaking and dick harder than it's ever been.

'I better wake up fucking normal tomorrow.'

Figure You Out (on AO3) or here (on LJ) or here (also on LJ)