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Gerard never lets Frank fuck his mouth.
It's not exactly a problem between them - Gerard goes down on Frank a lot and has no problem with it. He obviously likes sucking cock - even if it means he has to stem the usual litany of breathless descriptions: what he likes and what he wants Frank to do and what he's going to tie Frank to next time. He goes at it very intently and very messily - licking and sucking and sometimes forgetting and using his teeth a little, which, yeah, hurts, but also makes Frank think he might have a tiny bit of a pain kink, because it just makes him harder even as he curses and bats at Gerard's head.
"Sorry," Gerard pants, pulling off and looking up at Frank apologetically. His mouth is wet and his hand's still around Frank's cock and Frank can't actually get very angry. "Sorry, Frankie, sorry, I'm just so -" He makes a gesture with his free hand and starts stroking Frank's cock with his other one.
"It's okay." Frank's panting like a dog. "Just -" He gulps, shoving his fingers into Gerard's hair. Gerard moans when Frank tugs on it, his eyes fluttering shut. "Just - come on," Frank says, and Gerard hums to himself happily and then his hot mouth is back on Frank. They're due on stage in, like, fifteen minutes. And god, Gerard has been so fucking dirty on stage this week, his mouth on the verge of sucking off the microphone every single night, and all Frank wants in the world is this right now: Gerard's mouth on his cock, hot and tight and messy, and fuck, fuck.
Frank hangs onto Gerard's hair tight and drags him closer, shoving forward with his hips at the same time, shuddering hard, it's so fucking good-
Gerard pulls off, mouth wet and frowning. "Hey, stop it."
"Sorry," Frank pants, blinking his eyes into focus against the harsh dressing room lights. "I just - I fucking -"
Gerard sits back on his heels, still frowning, but his hand is also still wrapped damp and hot around Frank's cock, so it's maybe not a done deal yet. "I have to sing tonight. You know that."
"Yeah," Frank says desperately. "Yeah, I know, Gee, I know, and you're so fucking dirty when you sing, I just can't help it, okay?"
Gerard's face softens - he likes it when Frank gives him compliments - and he starts moving his hand a little bit on Frank's dick. Oh yeah, that, just - Frank presses back against the wall. "I'll be good," he promises. "I'll stay right here, just - please?"
Gerard's already licking at the head of Frank's cock again - a little sweet talk will pretty much get you everywhere with Gerard. Frank keeps it up, because this is a really good blowjob.
"Fuck, it's just the way you fucking get on stage, so fucking filthy, it gets me going so - oh god, yeah, yeah, that, fucking just -" Gerard has the head of Frank's cock in his mouth and he's doing that fancy-swirling-tongue thing that Frank knows he learned about in Cosmo but he does not care, it feels so fucking good. Gerard keeps it up, and oh man, he's hot for it too, Frank can tell by the way he's spreading his legs wide, jeans pulling tight over his thighs, fuck, they have to be so fucking snug over his cock, it's got to hurt.
Frank digs his fingers into Gerard's shoulders, concentrates on pushing back against the wall and not forward into Gerard's mouth like he wants to so fucking bad. Gerard's mouth is impossibly hot and slick and Frank just wants to fuck himself into it, get lost in how fucking good it feels. But he can be good, he's fine, he's just holding on and letting Gerard suck him, so hard, just -
"God, Gerard, fuck, don't stop, don't fucking stop -" Frank's thrusting forward, hard, before he can stop himself, and Gerard's throat is tight and hot and - ugh.
Gerard pulls off entirely, and takes his hand away from Frank's cock, even, but Frank's panting and losing it anyway. He grabs his own cock and strokes himself off - he can't stop, he's so fucking close - and comes so hard he almost falls the fuck over, his whole body shaking with it. He's biting back moans the entire time and still making too much noise.
When he finally manages to open his eyes, Gerard is sitting back on his heels, looking up at Frank reproachfully, and wiping come off his face. He looks fucking bitchy.
"Sorry," Frank pants out. "I'm -"
"Fuck you." Gerard pushes himself to his feet and vengefully wipes his hand off hard down the side of Frank's last clean pair of jeans. "Fuck you, Frank." He crosses his arms, sulking, but Frank is so wrung-out and sated all he can do is giggle a little.
Gerard frowns harder. "You're getting me fucking tea with honey," he says. "And you're doing it right fucking now." He does his little diva-throat-clearing thing, touching one hand to his throat dramatically and wincing. "I have to sing."
"I know." Frank pushes his hips off the wall as he tugs up his briefs and pants, buttons himself back in, closing his belt snugly. "I'm sorry." He steps forward, and Gerard shoulders him away. "You're just really fucking good at that, okay?" Frank tries.
"Tea," Gerard says shortly. "With honey," he adds, making it sound like an accusation. He still has one hand hovering near his throat.
"Yeah," Frank says. "Okay." He heads out - still feeling loose and fucking light-headed from coming so hard, man, Gerard is good at sucking cock - in search of the well-earned tea-and-honey. No one is ever going to accuse him of not being thankful in the face of, well - facials. Frank is a good guy.
"So," Mikey says, his focus on the phone in his hands, not even looking up.
Frank looks around. They're alone in the lounge. Mikey's probably talking to him. He waits, but Mikey's silent for several more seconds. Frank focuses back on House Hunters.
"It's a show night," Mikey says, and Frank jumps.
"Okay?" he says, confused.
Mikey shrugs. "I'm just saying."
Frank blinks, looking over at him. "...you're just saying what?"
Mikey sighs and shrugs again and falls silent for, like, a while.
Frank waits and finally says, "What? What are you saying?"
Mikey looks up at him. "I'm saying it's a show night. And Gee has to sing. So maybe don't, you know." He makes an evocative gesture involving his hand and his mouth and his tongue in his cheek and -
"Oh my god." Frank stares at him. "Oh my god. No. Just." No. "No. He told you?"
Mikey shrugs with one shoulder, expressionless. "You know how Gee is."
Frank does, but - "Yeah, but I thought -" Oh man. "Yeah," he finishes miserably. "Yeah, I know."
"So don't, you know, whatever, push things or -"
"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up." Frank presses his hands over his face - no, his ears - no, his face, looking at Mikey is worse.
When Frank musters the fortitude to peek through his fingers, Mikey's just watching him, steadily. Frank presses his hands so hard against his eyes that he sees stars. "If I say I won't, you know." He swallows, and tries to say it fast. "...push things," and ugh, oh god, his voice still comes out strangled and horrified. "Can we agree that this conversation never happened? Ever?" He peers at Mikey through his fingers.
Mikey blinks at him a couple of more times. "Yeah, okay." He goes back to his phone.
Frank groans and falls over on his side to bury his face in a couch cushion. Mikey is a buddy, though, and just ignores him, and eventually gets up and leaves so Frank's face can finish burning up in private. Awesome.
"I just -" Frank pants, as Gerard pins him against the wall, like, sternly, with his whole forearm holding Frank's hips in place. "I just fucking love your fucking - yeah, just like that - your fucking mouth, Gee."
He does, he does, he just wants to bury himself in it. He knows it's a show night, he knows that he promised Mikey - and oh god, never thinking about that conversation again ever - but who can fucking blame him?
Gerard's still maybe kind of pissed at him for the other night. He's sucking Frank's cock almost daintily, not even taking him halfway in, and Frank motherfucking knows Gerard can do better than that.
"Please," Frank manages, banging his head back against the wall. "Oh fuck, fuck, just -"
"Frank," Gerard says, pulling off of Frank's dick entirely. "We've got a show tonight."
Frank whines in his throat without even meaning to. He just - fuck, he wants his dick all the way in Gerard's mouth so bad.
Gerard is still not sucking his cock. He's holding onto it firmly, like maybe it's a leash or something, and staring up at Frank with his eyebrows drawn. "I have to sing tonight, and your cock in my throat isn't -"
Frank moans and shoves his hips forward mindlessly. Oh fuck, he wants that. He wants that and Gerard knows it, and he knew it when he got down on his knees, okay, he knows Frank. This seems a little unfair.
Gerard tightens his hold on Frank's dick, and blows his breath out crossly. "How would you like it if I just pushed you to your knees right fucking here and shoved my cock in your mouth and just fucked your mouth like it was a -"
"Fuck, oh my fucking, fuck yeah, fuck yeah - " Frank curses, knowing he's babbling and unable to stop. He's just shoving his hips forward into Gerard's fist, staring down at Gerard's pretty face. Gerard's hand is slipping smoothly over his cock as Gerard's expression goes from angry to intrigued. And oh god, it's too late, everything in Frank's whole body is boiling up, and he gasps out, "Fuck, yes, fuck, yes," and comes all over Gerard's fist and onto his shirt and maybe some gets on his jeans, too. Frank doesn't know, it's all he can do to keep himself from slumping down the wall all the way to the goddamn floor.
When he manages to blink his eyes open, Gerard's pushing himself to his feet, his expression still hovering somewhere between annoyed and interested. Frank stares at him for a second, his head still completely lost in the haze of coming his fucking brains out, then he gives up trying to stand, sliding to his knees with his back against the wall.
Gerard basically lights up, biting his lip as he stares down at Frank in front of him for a handful of seconds. Then he shoves his jeans open and down his thighs, and wraps his hand around his cock, giving it a couple of quick strokes like he can't quite help himself, has to take the edge off.
Fuck, yeah. Frank grabs hold of Gerard's hips and drags him forward, pushing himself up onto his knees so he can suck Gerard's cock into his mouth, quick and messy and tasting like everything he wants in life. Gerard makes a strangled noise above him, way too fucking loud, and when Frank looks up, Gerard is bracing himself on his forearm against the wall over Frank's head, his mouth open and wet, just watching as Frank sucks his cock. Frank loves that look on Gerard's face, loves making him look like that, wanting it so bad.
Frank has his hands around the waist of Gerard's jeans, hanging on and opening up wide and Gerard gasps, and shoves his hips forward. Frank just moans - fuck, yeah. Gerard's cock is so big and he's leaking like crazy, filling Frank's mouth with the taste of spunk. It's too much and it's just right and Gerard is doing it, god, fucking his mouth so hard and so good. He's watching from above as he shoves his hips forward and Frank can't take it all, but he takes as much as he can, opening up wide and loving the rough, unsteady thrusting and the noises Gerard's making in his throat throughout the whole thing.
Gerard doesn't last long, starts cursing filthy fucking words as he pushes his hand into Frank's hair and comes, jerking, into his mouth. Frank swallows as much as he can but it spills all over his chin and cheek and t-shirt.
They're late to stage call and Frank can't sing along at all that night, his throat is so fucking shot, and he doesn't fucking care.
By the time they hit the London tour dates, Gerard's in serious diva performance mode. Frank knows he loves London, and he's hit his stride with performing, and oh man, Gerard spends the day really fucking stoked about tonight's show. They're at the venue early, because Gerard's been pretty much bouncing around the hotel room and annoying everyone since they got in last night.
Gerard is dressed and ready, his t-shirt falling just to the top of his jeans, so Frank gets flashes of his boxer-briefs riding up above the waist of those jeans pretty much every time he moves. He's got his jeans tucked into his boots - those hot boots with all the buckles that just turn Frank on something fierce.
Gerard loves a show day and he loves a show day in London best. He's looking at himself in the mirror and fucking with his hair - biting his lip, tilting his head, and not hearing a thing anyone around him is saying.
Frank’s vaguely listening to Ray’s story about - man, he's not even sure, chord progressions? - while sneaking looks at Gerard checking himself out in the mirror. All sound fades away for Frank a second later, though, because when Gerard turns around, he's got a giant boner. It's really fucking obvious, but maybe Frank's the only one paying particular attention here. Gerard doesn't even seem to be aware of it, or at least he's not in any rush to do anything about it - he's just walking around, sighing, tapping his feet and killing time. Like he doesn't even care that his cock is pressed up hard and obvious against the front of his tight jeans.
Frank can't take his eyes off of it.
Gerard catches Frank's gaze from across the room when he turns back to the mirror to fuck with his hair some more. He turns around and Frank does his best to keep eye contact, but can't stop his gaze from dropping down. Just once, and real quick, but by the time he drags his eyes back to Gerard's face, Gerard's eyes are hot and he's got his lip caught in his teeth. He's giving Frank this look that gets Frank suddenly turned on so hard he's dizzy with it. They need to find a place to go, like, now, or he's very seriously going to blow Gerard in front of everyone.
He gets up real quick and he's barely out the door when he feels Gerard hot on his heels. They're not being subtle at all and he can't bring himself to care, not right now.
Gerard crowds against him in the hall, murmuring in his ear, "Fuck, Frank, I want you so bad, I want to make you come. Come on, come on."
Frank can hardly hear him because his heart is beating so loud. They're surrounded by people, and all he wants is a room with a door and a lock and something he can fuck Gerard up against.
Gerard's hand is hot and heavy on his hip, like he doesn't even care that they're in public and people can see them. Gerard guides him down a hall, and then there's a door, unmarked, and when Frank pushes through it, it opens into some sort of janitor's closet and that's good, that's fine, that's perfect. Gerard crowds through after him, and when Frank shoves the door shut, there's a hook-and-eye lock, so they are golden.
He's got to struggle to get the lock in place, though, because Gerard is pressed up hard against him, getting Frank up close and personal with his boner, moving hard and hot up against Frank's ass and saying close and hot against his ear, "Fuck, Frankie, yeah, god, this is exactly what I need, come on, come on."
Frank turns around, completely ready to get on his knees and suck Gerard off quick and messy, his mouth is practically watering with wanting it, but Gerard shoves him back against the door. He's got this look in his eye as he undoes Frank's jeans like it's nothing - two quick movements, and he's got Frank's pants shoved down his thighs and Gerard's pale hand is hot and tight around his cock.
Gerard sinks to his knees in the next second, looking up at Frank and shaking his hair out of his face in this ridiculously hot and girly way. His mouth is open and his lips are so red it almost looks like he's wearing lipstick, and he's breathing hard as he goes down on Frank like it's his job. And Jesus, fucking Jesus Christ, he's got one hand around the base of Frank's dick and his mouth wrapped around the head. His eyes have fluttered closed, his stupidly long eyelashes making him look even more girly as he sucks Frank off so fucking good that Frank slams his head back against the door just to keep himself from coming right fucking now.
Gerard is really fucking into it - Frank looks down and can't stop looking. Gerard's got his hand around him, jerking him off while he sucks him. His mouth is really fucking hot and he sucks cock like he does everything else: messy and focused. He's got his other arm pressed over Frank's hips, holding him back against the door so he can't even move. It's frustrating and exciting all at once and he's trying to bite it back, but he can't help panting down at Gerard, "Fuck, yeah, your mouth, your fucking mouth, do it, do it."
Gerard moans around him, and Frank's hips jump forward, but Gerard pins him back against the door and sucks harder around the head of his cock, his hand moving in a steady rhythm.
"Fuck, Gee, oh fuck, oh - fuck." He's gonna come, he's gonna come. Gerard pulls off just as Frank jerks forward, and his hand is fucking relentless and all Frank can do is dig his fingers into Gerard's hair and come all over his face. Gerard doesn't even try and pull back - his mouth is open, his eyes shut, and he looks fucking slutty and wanton, knees spread on the gross closet floor. It's messy and filthy and fucking hot and Frank makes this really embarrassing noise in his throat at the sight of it.
Gerard opens his eyes at the sound and just licks his lips as Frank pants over him, making no move to wipe himself off. Frank makes that sound (again) and then he's got his dick in his hand, rubbing it over Gerard's lips and cheeks, smearing the come all around while Gerard sits back on his heels and closes his eyes again, letting Frank stroke his softening cock over his lips where it's soft and wet and warm.
"Jesus Christ, Gee." Frank's voice is rough and destroyed, like he's been the one on the floor with a cock in his mouth. When he manages to drag his eyes away from where the head of his dick is resting on Gerard's bottom lip, he sees that while he was busy rubbing his come into Gerard's face, Gerard has managed to wrestle his jeans open enough to drag his cock out and start jerking himself off.
Gerard's hand is moving fast over his cock - he lifts his hips into it hard, fucking his own fist. Frank sags back against the door, just watching. Gerard's eyes are shut tight, and he's digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he comes with a muffled sob, making a mess, all over the floor and Frank's shoes, and Frank doesn't even care. Frank drops to his knees, kissing Gerard before he's even completely done, tasting come on his lips, getting it smeared on his own cheek as Gerard pants into his mouth.
"Jesus, that was dirty." Gerard is breathless and delighted, slumped back on his heels.
"It really fucking was." Frank giggles a little as he runs his hand over Gerard's face, trying to clean him up, but really just smearing the come around some more.
Gerard bats his hand away, and then they're both laughing, slouched against each other, dicks still out. "You came all over me." Gerard wipes his hand across his face, looks down at it, then licks it off.
Frank collapses into giggles again. "You're so fucking gross."
"You rubbed it in." Gerard can barely get the words out, he's laughing so hard.
"You loved it," Frank says, and then they're kissing, sticky and filthy and Frank loves his life.
They're so late for stage call it isn't even funny. Ray is fuming when they get there - as much as he ever does, which isn't so much fuming as looking really worried and then really fucking relieved as Frank and Gerard skid around the corner and Frank grabs his guitar from the tech. Gerard drops a kiss on Mikey's cheek as he goes by him and Mikey grins a little as he picks out a few notes on his bass.
They're ready.
Gerard is bouncing up and down on his toes as he waits for their cue. They'd had almost zero clean-up time and Frank is pretty sure that some of his come is still smeared sticky across Gerard's cheek. Gerard looks flushed and excited, high-fiveing his way through the crew with reckless abandon.
The knees of Frank's jeans are stained with Gerard's come, but they're so worn-out anyway, he's pretty sure no one will notice.
When they finally get a hotel night (a real, honest-to-god hotel night with beds and nice showers and individual rooms) and - most fucking importantly - a day off the next day, Frank can hardly process it. Like, they check in sometime Tuesday afternoon, and don't have to check out until Thursday at noon. Noon. That is a lot of hours of hot water and cable TV and privacy. It might be the actual best thing to happen to Frank in a while.
Greater still, though, is the knock that comes at his door late that first night, when Frank is way too awake because the bed is too soft and the room is too quiet and his skin is too clean. It's always so startling how easy it is to sink down into the depths of touring and start feeling like that's normal and real life isn't.
It's Gerard, of course, and if Frank hadn't been focusing on the shower and bed and quiet, he'd have wondered what they'd get to do in that thirty-six hours they have here in the hotel. Gerard's hair is damp, dark tendrils hanging in his eyes, and he's changed into threadbare blue jeans with a spot worn smooth in his front pocket where his phone goes, and - a different Iron Maiden shirt than usual.
"Hey," he says, and then he tugs Gerard into the room without really making a conscious decision to do it. He's spent most of his waking hours with this guy for the last four days, but none of that time has been completely alone and now everything inside him heats up at the very sight of him and he can't take another second of waiting.
They get the door closed, getting in each other's way, Gerard laughing hot and sweet in Frank's face as he struggles with it and swears. But then they maneuver it closed and Frank's kissing Gerard up against it, finally. It's like this relief flooding through him, so much so that it's almost embarrassing.
He manages to let go after a minute, backing off a few inches and running a hand through his own damp hair, grinning stupidly. "Sorry."
Gerard shakes his head, his eyes bright. "Missed you."
Frank laughs, even though he gets it. "You've done nothing but see my face for a week straight now."
Gerard tilts his head to the side, getting his hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, but -" He doesn't finish his sentence, but - yeah. Frank gets it. He doesn't feel like laughing anymore.
He edges nearer, closing the few inches between them. He wants to do everything, but it's too much - like the too-soft bed, the too-quiet room, he doesn't know where to start. Then Gerard gets his hands up under Frank's t-shirt, pressing against his back, and pulls him closer even though Frank's as close as he can get. It's so fucking ridiculous, but they just stay like that for a minute, close, because they can. Locked door, no rush, and Gerard smells good, fresh in this way that makes Frank's heart beat faster.
"So," Frank breaks the silence, reaching down to undo Gerard's belt, the metal of the buckle making what sounds like a lot of noise in the quiet room. "I was thinking." He tugs open the button and gets the zipper down carefully. Oh yeah - he'd known Gerard wasn't wearing anything under those jeans.
"Yeah?" Gerard's voice is soft, and he hitches in a breath as Frank wraps a hand around his cock. Gerard's just starting to get hard and oh man, Frank loves this, loves the feel of Gerard's dick getting hard, right there in his hand, loves the way Gerard's breath comes just a little faster, the way Gerard's eyes are just a little darker when Frank looks up. The frantic, hot, fast, now of it when they're backstage and desperate for it is motherfucking hot, but this slow burn is something else entirely.
Frank's breathing harder than Gerard now, and the only place Gerard's touching him is his hand against Frank's side under his shirt. "Yeah," he manages finally, stroking Gerard. "I was thinking about everything I want to do to your cock."
Gerard laughs, his eyes sliding shut as Frank strokes him harder.
"With my mouth," Frank clarifies, and Gerard giggles again, both hands tight against Frank's sides now.
"Oh hey," Gerard says, breathless. "I was thinking about that, too." He's moving his hips forward, trying to force Frank's pace, and Frank's so fucking gone, he lets him, can't stop looking down as Gerard slides his cock in and out of Frank's fist.
Frank moves back a little, starts to get on his knees, but Gerard's shaking his head, going, "Wait, just - wait a second -"
"What?" Frank asks, because man, now that they're here, now that they've got time, now that they're clean, all he wants is more.
Gerard takes a quick glance around the room before tugging Frank away from the door, dragging him across the room and pressing him up against one of the walls on the other side. When Frank looks at him, kind of confused, Gerard quirks a smile. "This is gonna get loud," he explains.
Frank's breath catches in his throat and he has to swallow before he can say, "Fuck, yeah." Jesus. His cock is so fucking hard in his jeans, he can't even think.
Gerard gets down on his knees and Frank had been so ready to suck cock that he's having a sort of delay in getting his brain around what's happening. Gerard's pants are still open, his cock huge and hard, curving out of them, and it should look silly, but it's not - it's hot and dirty and it makes Frank's mouth water. "Me next," he says, still staring at Gerard's dick dumbly.
"Count on it." Gerard opens Frank's jeans, pulls them and his briefs down and then his hand is around Frank's cock.
Frank groans and okay, yeah, this, fuck, he wants Gerard's mouth. Gerard's going for it right away, no teasing, no licking, just getting Frank's cock wet with his mouth and taking him in, steady and deep. Frank wants to wrap his fingers in Gerard's hair, drag him forward, make him take it, but he's good, he doesn't. He just presses his head back against the wall and whimpers. Gerard keeps pulling back some to run his tongue around the head, ducking down to slide his lips, open and wet, so hot, so fucking dirty, along the underside and then back up. Frank's knees shake every time he does it, and he's making these small sounds in his throat that he can't control.
Frank watches as Gerard pulls off, closing his eyes, then licks his palm, head tilted back. It's fucking filthy. Then he's got his wet hand around Frank, and looks up at him, his mouth open and wet. "Louder," he commands. "I want to hear you."
Frank groans in his throat, loud, like his body can't help but respond to the command. Gerard's back on his cock the next second. He's got both his hands on Frank, stroking his hips, hanging on tight. Frank bites his lip, his sweaty hands sliding against the wall behind him. "Fuck." It comes out soft, like he's too used to being quiet, to being careful. "Gerard, fuck," he says, louder this time.
Gerard keeps going, slow but steady, with one hand still around Frank's cock. "God, fuck, yeah, suck it," Frank says, louder still, and Gerard makes a sound in his throat and lets go of Frank's cock.
Frank looks down but Gerard's still sucking him steady and shallow and when he runs his tongue around the head of Frank's cock, Frank's hips shove forward of their own accord. "Sorry," he gasps, but Gerard shudders - Frank can see it running through him - and moans.
And - oh. Oh fuck. Frank does it again, letting his hips do exactly what they want, which is to slide his dick into Gerard's mouth, watching his lips stretched around him. "Oh, Jesus Christ." It's so fucking good, so fucking hot, and Gerard moans again, shuffling forward a little on his knees, opening up wider.
"Yeah," Frank says - he can't stop himself. "Fuck, yeah." He's doing it again, and again, fucking his way into Gerard's mouth, and he's not going to last, no way he's going to last, which sucks, because, fuck, fuck, this is all he wants to be doing for the rest of his motherfucking life.
Gerard's just taking it, his cheeks flushed and his eyes shut, his mouth wide and wet, his hands still hanging on to Frank's hips. He's not even touching himself, just letting Frank thrust forward into his mouth, and Frank is babbling now, loud, probably too loud, but he doesn't care, he just wants to -
"Fuck, Gerard, fuck, your mouth, oh god, you're so good at this, fuck, I can't - I can't -"
He's trying to hold on, to hold back, but Gerard groans, and swallows around him, and that's it, that's all Frank can take. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He freezes and shudders and comes in Gerard's mouth, his whole body trembling with it. His brain shorts out and his fingers are digging into Gerard's shoulders so hard they hurt, and he knows he's making too much noise, ridiculous and embarrassing, but he can't shut up. He just keeps coming - it doesn't stop; he feels like he's pulsing and shuddering forever, like this is the orgasm he's been needing for weeks, now.
"Fuck," he manages, when he finally finishes, sagging back against the wall. "Fuck me."
"Fuck, yeah," Gerard says after he finally pulls off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice comes out hoarse, like he's been sucking cock for hours instead of the embarrassingly short time it took to get Frank off. His lips are red and swollen, and he looks used - like, debauched, and so fucking hot down there on his knees, cock hard and jutting up - and Frank wants to tackle him to the carpet and just ride him.
Gerard swallows visibly and works his jaw like it hurts a little, stretched and sore from Frank's cock, and that shouldn't send a jolt of lust through Frank but it does. Gerard's not looking upset about it, though; he's looking up at Frank and licking his lips like he likes it. Like it feels good.
Frank, still slumped there against the wall, runs his thumb over Gerard's bottom lip. "Sorry," he says, just in case.
Gerard looks up at him. He touches a hand to his own throat, kind of like he does when Frank pushes things and Gerard gets pissy about it, but he's more like stroking his fingers over it, looking up at Frank while he does it, like he's teasing himself. "S'okay," he says, and his voice is still rough, fucked up.
He holds up a hand and Frank grabs it and braces himself shakily against the wall as Gerard hauls himself to his feet. "Hotel night," he says, looking around the room for a second before pulling his t-shirt off over his head, letting it fall to the floor.
"Yeah," Frank says after a few seconds too long, because it's been ages since he's seen this much skin.
He starts to take a step forward, wanting to get his hands on Gerard, then stops, hobbled by his jeans down by his knees. He strips out of them, and then tugs his shirt off as well, watching curiously as Gerard heads across the room and kneels down, in just his jeans, sliding down his hips a tiny bit, rummaging through Frank's duffel bag.
"Gerard." Frank sprawls across the bed, feeling loose-limbed and woozy in that way that coming that hard makes him. Even so, it's like he's taken the edge off but is still turned on, already on a slow build to going again. Gerard on his knees with his jeans undone and so tight that they're not even slipping that far down, but far enough that Frank can see the curve of his hip, the softness of the skin there. He wants to sink his teeth into it.
He rolls over on the bed, feeling funky, loose, ready. "Gerard," he says again. "What are you looking for...oh."
Gerard turns around, a satisfied expression on his face, the handcuffs that Frank barely remembers buying back in London dangling from one finger. "Hotel night," Gerard says again, standing up, and oh - he's been thinking about this.
Gerard comes closer, moves onto the bed until one knee is up between Frank's thighs, the denim rough against Frank's skin. He's watching Frank, grinning, then he bends down and kisses him. Frank leans up into it, and Gerard makes a sound down in his throat and settles down against him. It's slow and hot and Frank sinks back into the pillows, Gerard a good, heavy weight on top of him.
When he finally pulls back, Frank brings his free hand to run over Gerard's throat, right where he was touching earlier. "Anything," he says, breathless, his heart beating fast. "You just - anything."
Gerard's lips curve in a smile again. "I may not be able to sing tomorrow," he says, grabbing Frank's hand and pinning it against the headboard. "But you won't be able to walk."
Frank sucks in a quick breath and grins. "Yeah," he says, pushing up against Gerard a little. "Let's go."
the end