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The first time is...a surprise really. Gerard can’t think of another way to describe what happens as he and Frank tumble into Gerard’s tiny top bunk, high on the after effects of a long night and an energetic show. Frank’s giggling, and complaining playfully about how difficult it is to climb up into the bunk, and that as clumsy as Gerard is, he can’t see how it’s possible for him at all.
Gerard just laughs, and curls up on his side against the wall, giving Frank enough room to wiggle in. There’s nothing weird about their customary post-show naps. They had been going on for, like, three tours now. Gerard wasn’t sure of an exact point of origin, but he knows it had been a while ago. Frank was just a physical person. He liked to touch everyone. He climbed on Bob’s back every time he saw him, chanting his name and digging dirty sneakers into his sides, much to the perpetual annoyance of Bob and his strict distaste for physical contact.
Frank stuck shit in Toro’s hair any time he could find a suitable enough item, and he jumped on his back a fair amount of times too, except Ray didn’t get nearly as ticked off about it as Bob did, so it soon lost all its fun. Mikey was Frank’s favorite person to hug, and knock glasses off of, and poke, and punch, and slap, and pretty much anything else he thought would make him laugh.
So, really, the naps are no big deal. Frank had climbed up into Gerard’s bunk once, probably to just hang out and talk before retreating to his own bed, but had ended up falling asleep. It needed no more explanation than that for it to turn into a habit.
Frank’s tired. He lazily curls up against Gerard’s chest, and closes his eyes. He clings to the front of Gerard’s sweaty shirt, and breathes evenly, blowing strands of his hair away from his face. Frank’s hair is damp; cool with sweat, water and who knows what else. Gerard tucks stray strands behind Frank’s ears, and cards his fingers through it to remove inevitable tangles.
The bus is quiet, only a gentle hum rolling down the highway in the peaceful dead of night. The air is calm; content. Gerard ruffles a layer of Frank’s hair, and scratches softly at his head, running his fingers through and tugging on long pieces; a gesture of comfort, like his mom used to do to him when he was a kid. She would still do it now if Gerard ever needed it, and would no doubt delight in the longer length that he keeps it at.
Frank stirs quietly, making a muffled sleepy sound, and shifting to stretch his body out, hooking a foot around Gerard’s ankle, and an arm around his neck. Gerard’s fingers pause under a layer of Frank’s hair, unsure if he’s bothered by the movements.
Frank makes a small grunting noise, and reaches his other hand up to cup around Gerard’s. He pushes his fingers against Gerard’s, willing them to move and resume their scratching. Gerard grins silently and carries on, making more slow and deliberate circles now that he knows Frank likes it.
“Sorry my hair stinks like shit,” Frank speaks up after a moment, keeping his eyes closed and face pressed up against Gerard’s chest.
“As if my shirt smells any better,” Gerard replies, “Plus, I owe it to you for all the times you’ve had to smell my dirty hair. I know it fucking reeks.”
Frank snorts, and turns his head, nuzzling into Gerard more, and curling both arms around his neck, clinging like a fucking monkey to a tree. Gerard sighs, and lays his cheek on the top of Frank’s head, settling into a comfortable position to sleep, feeling warm and at peace with another body pressed against him.
“Yeah, well, I don’t mind,” Frank suddenly says.
“Hmm?” Gerard mumbles, almost asleep.
“Your hair.”
Gerard pauses. “I don’t mind yours either,” he mutters back, eyes still closed and distracted by his body beginning to loosen and relax for sleep. Frank shifts.
It happens so fast; almost like it’s an accident. It’s too graceful. The smooth transition from Frank being pressed tight against Gerard’s side, to being draped on top of him, enveloping his body and clutching, needy and close, is almost unnoticeable. Frank hums, digging fingers into the soft base of Gerard’s neck, and rubbing up lazily against the edge of Gerard’s hip. He huffs a small gasp of breath and tucks his face into the crook of Gerard’s shoulder, warm and wriggling.
“Just say no,” he whispers, so loud in the darkness.
Gerard tenses. Frank still hasn’t opened his eyes, but he’s digging his growing hard-on into the rough denim of Gerard’s pants, and Gerard’s beginning to feel a slow burning warmth spread in his belly.
He tucks a hand into Frank’s jeans as a response, cupping his erection in soft cloth boxers. Frank lets out a shaky breath and presses his face deeper into Gerard’s neck. He’s still clinging to Gerard, hands curled up around his neck in some sort of bizarre sex hug.
He squeezes Frank’s dick gently, pressing his fingers and shifting them against the cloth of the boxers to incite friction. Frank makes a choked, quiet moan. It’s muffled against the skin of Gerard’s neck, and Gerard can feel how hot Frank’s mouth is; his lips dragging up along the arch and nuzzling the edge of his jaw. He bucks slowly into Gerard’s palm, and breathes hot on his jaw, nudging nose against cheek.
His eyes are still closed, and his face is flushed a soft pink even in the dim light of the bus. The blankets are rustling as Frank wrestles for relief, jerking and pushing and pressing against any aspect of Gerard’s body that he can.
Frank huffs another breath of hot air on Gerard’s cheek and it’s all too much; too tight, and too rushed. Gerard wrenches his hand from Frank’s pants and cups the back of his head, tugging on his hair to bring him up to his mouth. He presses their lips together in a heat of desperation, locking on and guiding Frank in time with him. Frank makes a soft noise in the back of his throat and leans in, kissing back sloppy and hurried. He takes both of his hands and latches them together behind Gerard’s head, bringing him impossibly close and Gerard feels dizzy and warm. He tucks his free hand up underneath Frank’s t-shirt, and settles it in the small of his back. He’s hot, flushed all over, and Gerard spreads out his palm, clutching soft hips to push them down on his.
Frank grins into Gerard’s mouth when he feels it, and he brings one hand forward to cup under his jaw, slowing the kiss down. It’s sweeter now, languid. Frank keeps moving to pull away, but then diving back in as if it’s all too impossible to resist. Gerard’s other hand joins the one already at Frank’s back and he presses them both into the bare skin there, grinding up as he does. Frank moans softly and squeezes his eyes shut more, pulling off from the kiss. He clings to Gerard around his neck again, and starts pushing down, dragging his hips in circles against rough denim and hot skin.
He comes like that, silent and quick in the cramped dark of the top bunk. The rest of the world is sound asleep, and Frank bites down on Gerard’s shirt to keep from making a noise and waking anyone up. His hands clutch to Gerard’s hair and his hips still. His grip loosens and he lays his head sideways on Gerard’s chest, his body going lax and slow; tired again.
Gerard could fall asleep after that. His mind is whirring with too many thoughts and his body is screaming at him to finish too, but everything seemed so loud just moments ago and now it’s all silent again and he justs wants to succumb to it.
Frank refuses to let him.
He slowly moves to roll Gerard over, settling underneath him. Wordlessly, he unzips his jeans and pulls his dick out. Gerard’s more hard than he remembers being and Frank’s face is determined, slanted eyebrows drawing together in the middle of his sharp face that’s hazy with a post-orgasm afterglow. Frank settles one hand on Gerard’s hip and with his other, starts jacking him in tight, fast circles. Gerard tucks his face into Frank’s neck and bucks up into his hand desperately, sweat pooling at the small of his back and the backs of his knees. Suddenly, the volume of the universe is cranked up to ten again.
Quickly, Frank moves his hand away from Gerard’s hip and pulls up the end of his t-shirt. Gerard’s mind swims at the image of graceful tattoo lines and damp, tan skin.
“Come on my stomach,” Frank says, and it’s so calm and steady in the loud, swirling heat of the space around them that Gerard doesn’t see how it can be real.
He squeezes his eyes shut against Frank’s neck, and fucking complies, spilling up onto Frank’s stomach and then collapsing beside him.
Frank zips him back up, and then wraps an arm around his shoulder, tucking him close into his side. Frank’s eyes are already closed, and Gerard just stares at faint shadows being cast by his eyelashes and wonders silently what all of this means.
The second time there’s more talking, and for that Gerard’s grateful. They’re making out in the bunk again. It’s the new inevitability of the post-show adrenaline rush, and Gerard’s secretly happy about it.
Frank seems less serious the second time around. He’s giggling a lot, and grinning a dopey grin that makes Gerard’s face feel hot and his chest feel tight.
Frank has one hand cradling Gerard’s neck, and the other resting at his hip. He’s kissing hot and messy, with almost too much teeth. Gerard tries to match him, but he’s too erratic. He smiles, and pulls off, beginning to peck the edge of Gerard’s jaw with small kisses. It feels strangely casual and Gerard could laugh.
“Hey,” Frank suddenly says brightly, punctuating it with another playful jaw kiss.
“Yeah?” Gerard prompts, uneasy about what could be coming.
Frank pauses, pulling back to bracket Gerard’s hips with his thighs and look at him straight in the face. His head almost touches the ceiling. “Can I try something?” he asks, folding his hands over Gerard’s belt buckle.
“Sure, surprise me,” Gerard smirks, finding the confident approach most appropriate for these new situations.
Frank grins like a little kid getting a present and makes quick work of Gerard’s belt and zipper. He pulls out his already half-hard dick and grips it at the base. “Whoa dude, I didn’t notice how big it was last time.”
Gerard turns bright red and fights the urge to look away. Frank’s still smirking because of course he is; it’s Frank and he has exactly zero shame. He starts moving his hand up and down, lazily jacking him off and Gerard’s wondering what all the fuss was about because this is nothing new. Then Frank starts to shimmy down the bed. He curls in on himself, and leans his head forward towards his hand and, oh, Gerard wasn’t expecting that.
Frank’s eyes are rimmed with leftover eyeliner from the night before and his nails look dirty underneath weeks old black polish. He licks at the place where his fingers are wrapped around Gerard’s dick and moves his hand slowly, teasing in such an unfair way.
“Frank,” Gerard complains.
“What?” he asks, his voice raised innocently on the end as he quirks an eyebrow.
Before Gerard can get a reply in, Frank is swallowing him down, and the reply gets lodged in his throat behind an unauthorized groan. Frank still has his hand curled around the space his mouth can’t reach, and he has his eyes closed in an almost blissful state. His free hand grips to the soft edge of Gerard’s hip and Gerard flushes warmly, watching the contrast of colorful tattooed fingers against the stark white of his own skin.
Frank’s messy with it, working his mouth fast and loud. He’s louder than he needs to be, and Gerard’s so thankful that no one else is on the bus for once. Frank pulls all the way off and lets Gerard see the trail of spit that’s formed along the edge of Frank’s lips to the tip of his cock.
“ Jesus ,” Gerard breathes, and he can feel himself blush at the sheer lewdness of it all.
Frank cracks a wide, amused smile, and goes back down, this time rucking up Gerard’s shirt and gripping his hips with both hands. Frank slides all the way down and buries his nose in the softness of Gerard stomach, looking too dreamy for the fact that he has his mouth full of someone else’s dick. Gerard’s hips kick a bit and Frank moans around him. It’s all too obscene and Gerard is desperate to hear it again. He latches onto the back of Frank’s head, gently playing with his hair as he allows himself to move his hips back and forth steadily.
Frank leans into the hand at the back of his head generously, soft noises bubbling up from his throat the rougher Gerard’s hips’ movements become. He bobs his head in time with the frantic thrusts, and sloppily works his tongue along the underside of Gerard’s cock, eyes fluttering open and closed. His cheeks are a faint pink and his lashes look impossibly long from the angle Gerard’s at.
Frank slows down ever so slightly and Gerard matches his thrusts in time, watching the hypnotizing show of Frank’s mouth, lips red and wet with spit, sliding so rhythmically, so expertly up and down. Gerard tugs gently at the base of Frank’s hair where he’s slowly carding his fingers through it, almost petting it. Frank mewls in the back of his throat, leaning into the feeling, and Gerard tugs again, but this time a little harder. Frank moans and his eyelids flutter rapidly. Gerard’s throat feels dry.
He continues to hold Frank by the base of his head, clenching his hair and fucking into his mouth at an agonizingly slow rate. All his body wants him to do is push up rough and quick and hard and get it fucking over with, but there’s something in the beauty of the slow burn that Frank’s coaxing out of him.
Plus, Frank looks like he’s in absolute heaven, getting Gerard’s entire dick wet and then almost pulling all the way off before nuzzling down at the base again. Gerard breathes out shakily when he feels a familiar twinge in his gut. Frank must be some kind of clairvoyant because his eyebrows screw up like he knows that Gerard is close, and he slides down all the way fast, making Gerard cry out softly in surprise. Frank sucks with an earnest urgency, his tongue gliding rough and sloppy and his lips so tight and so hot. Gerard wills himself to keep his eyes open, just to see Frank face.
And then, he’s glad he did, because Frank comes all the way up, and sucks hard on just the head, his eyes suddenly open and wanting. Gerard chokes out a moan and feels like he’s gonna rip Frank’s hair out as he comes, hard and deep, all the way down Frank’s throat as he miraculously dips his head back down and swallows every last drop.
When he pulls off, Gerard has his eyes closed, basking in the haze of it all, feeling the cool air across his exposed cock. Frank shifts so that he’s lying at Gerard’s side. He tucks his head into the crook of Gerard’s neck and hums contently. Gerard knows they would both fall asleep too, if it weren’t for the fact that he can feel Frank rock hard against his thigh and he’s not about to fail to return the oh so gracious gift of a blowjob that he’s been granted.
He opens his eyes and looks over at Frank, who has his hands folded up all innocently underneath his cheek. His eyes are bright and happy as he searches the spent nature of Gerard’s face. He giggles and Gerard furrows his brows.
“You gonna put your dick away or what? Not that I don’t like looking at it,” Frank quips.
Gerard feels himself blush crimson and he fumbles with his jeans. Christ, it’s just Frank, and he has all the charm and grace of a teenage virgin right now.
“God, just come here,” he grumbles after zipping up his jeans. Frank just laughs again.
“Don’t sound too upset now. It’s not like you just got the best blowjob of your life or anything.”
“Shut up or you won’t get one either,” Gerard warns, unzipping Frank’s pants and sliding down his boxers with ease.
Frank smirks, his hard, flushed cock standing up in Gerard’s hand. “Who said it was gonna be the best one of my life, huh?”
Gerard just arches his eyebrow and takes that as a challenge.
He starts by teasing Frank and sucking on just the head of his cock. He swirls his tongue around the underside, pressing up and then pulling back slowly. Gerard wills himself to keep his eyes open and locked on Frank’s, testing his limits. Frank whimpers so helplessly, begging Gerard to go deeper as he wriggles his hips.
“Ugh, Gee. C’mon.” he whines impatiently. Of course he’s a chatterbox right from the start.
Gerard gradually sucks him down further, and each time Frank moans quiet and high in the back of his throat, his hands clenching and unclenching the bed sheets beside him. When Gerard’s nose connects with the line of his stomach, and he just sits there, Frank tilts his hips up, desperate for some movement, some friction, some anything . Gerard raises an eyebrow at Frank as if to ask him what’s wrong, and Frank just pleads.
“Gee, please. Give me something,” his voice is absolutely wrecked and Gerard’s embarrassed to say he could easily come again at just the sound of it. He didn’t think Frank would cave to begging so quickly, and so easily. He wants to bask in it for a while.
He moves slow, bobbing his head rhythmically and keeping his eyes open and sharp, watching Frank’s every move as he writhes and whines.
“Can I touch you?” he asks as if Gerard had ordered him not to. He nods in response.
Frank’s hands fly to Gerard’s head, tugging long black locks into his fingers and holding on. Gerard picks up the pace, his hair falling into his eyes and getting to be a bit of an issue. Frank sees this and draws his hair back behind his head in a limp makeshift ponytail. He uses his other hand to silently frame Gerard’s face, rubbing his thumb across pale cheekbones and thick brows. Gerard closes his eyes to that, and grips Frank’s thigh, getting into the rhythm of everything as he starts to move at a normal pace.
Frank’s so vocal, and he’s moaning with almost every movement. His hips are becoming careless little triggers, ready to go off at any fucking moment without warning. Gerard can see it in those crossed brows and that lax open mouth. He’s really close.
“Can I fuck your mouth?” It’s downright sinful the way his voice breaks on the last syllable, and Gerard would give him anything at all in that moment. He nods.
Frank thrusts up fast, and then slows down into a steady pulse, clinging to Gerard’s hair and basking in the hot wet pull of his mouth. Frank touches his fingers to Gerard’s cheek lightly, tracing the push and slide of his cock, and Gerard flutters his eyelashes, meeting with Frank’s thrusts to choke ever so humbly around him. Frank gasps and grunts out a moan, pulling hard on Gerard’s hair and riding out the high as he comes spectacularly.
Gerard swallows, and wipes excess off of his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. Frank snorts.
“You’re gross,” he accuses, shifting up in the bunk to tug his jeans back on.
“Giving people the best blowjobs of their lives isn’t the cleanest thing out there,” Gerard reasons, a smile tugging at his lips.
Frank leans up on his elbows. “I don’t know if I would give you that much credit, but it was good,” He smirks brightly, eyes a challenge.
“Yeah, well, I did go to art college,” Gerard answers, sidling up next to Frank. “What’s your excuse?”
“Catholic school.”
Frank cracks a smile, and Gerard triumphantly kisses it.
The third time is in a San Antonio hotel room, and Gerard has been subject to the torture of burning sexual tension all day.
Since the second time, Frank has been more than friendly with Gerard on multiple occasions outside of the tiny universe of the top bunk. He slings his arm around his waist when they’re walking onstage, he smacks messy kisses on his cheek in the mornings in front of the whole band, and he’s taken to sitting snug in Gerard’s lap backstage after shows. It’s not like they hadn’t been friends before...all of this...but there’s something in the way Frank looks at him now. He seems to gaze rather than just see.
Gerard’s begun to crave the flirty exchanges whenever Frank’s around, and it’s all starting to become too much. He can tell Frank is dying at the lack of serious physical contact too. They make out almost every night on the bus, but there’s no guarantee of privacy, and the rushed, nervous atmosphere isn’t conducive to their relationship that’s slowing growing in sexual intimacy.
Plus, the top bunk is just cramped.
Gerard expects Frank to absolutely devour him as soon as they open the door to their room, but he’s unexpectedly quiet. He places his suitcase on the floor and takes off his shoes, sitting them next to the case. He smiles at Gerard and climbs into the bed where Gerard is sitting. Frank’s eyes are warm and happy, glowing in and out. Gerard feels his chest tighten. Frank places a palm on Gerard’s cheek and leans in, connecting their lips gently. He tastes like mint gum and the cigarette he had in the parking lot of the hotel. He cradles Gerard’s face, pulling him in, closer and closer still, until he’s breathing heavy and vibrating with energy.
Gerard tugs away, blushing at the damn honesty of it all. Frank looks at him with the widest eyes possible, and Gerard’s ready to admit things that he never thought he would feel. Frank clutches Gerard’s palms, folded up on the bed, and they sit in peaceful silence, Frank staring at their intertwined fingers and tracing the bones running through each of their hands.
“What are we?” Gerard cracks open the buzzing silence in the room. It’s a question that’s been weighing on his mind from the start, but he doesn’t know if he actually cares what the answer is.
Frank is still quiet for a long time, rubbing his thumb over every inch of Gerard’s pale hand as it sits limply in his. His brow knits and he sighs, as if he’s wrestling with his own mind and it’s becoming too difficult. He looks up at Gerard with an open face, lips drawn solid, eyes soft and pensive.
“I think I could be anything for you, Gee,” he says it and it’s somehow the most sincere sentence of the English language, despite how much it sounds like a line from a movie. Gerard does love all the theatrics of romance though, so it’s probably the most perfect response.
He cracks a satisfied smile, and tugs on Frank’s fingers, trying not to visibly blush. “Fucking sap.”
“Hey, now, don’t go too soft,” Frank laughs, “I’m still planning on getting laid tonight.”
“You’re the one who just confessed your fucking love to me!” Gerard says in disbelief, but smiling as his cheeks get warm at the words. He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, and looks down at the covers and Frank’s hand sitting flat on top of them.
“Be careful, or I’ll take it back,” Frank smirks, his voice getting low as he cups a hand around Gerard’s jaw and leans in to steal a kiss. They fall onto the pillows and Frank crawls on top, straddling Gerard’s hips and pressing down in slow circles. He’s not breaking the kiss though, leaning down into it and sucking at Gerard’s bottom lip, turning the once romantic moment into something so much dirtier. Both hands reach up to tangle in Gerard’s hair, and a faint moan escapes his lips. Frank pulls from the kiss and hangs his head on Gerard’s chest, rubbing it back and forth on the fabric of his shirt.
He looks up, and presses his mouth, hot and wanting, against Gerard’s ear. “Can I ride you?” He asks softly, and it’s possibly the best thing Gerard’s ever heard.
He wants to say yes. Any other time he would say yes, but--
“We don’t have anything,” he mumbles, defeated, his eyes still closed.
He can hear the fucking smirk on Frank’s face right after he says that. “Lucky for you, someone decided to make a quick decision at the last gas station.” He feels Frank’s weight leave the bed, and hears the zip of Frank’s suitcase and the rustle of a plastic shopping bag. He opens his eyes.
“How did I not notice you buying that? How did anyone not notice?” He props himself up on the bed, leaning back on the headboard.
“I don’t know. I think you were too busy looking at all the weird CDs they had for sale. Everyone else already bought their stuff already, and you never asked me about what I had in the bag because you were talking my fucking ear off reciting a bunch of weird facts about Texas. It wasn’t hard to sneak past you, Gee.” Gerard makes a noise of protest, like it’s incredulous that anyone would even assume that he’s that oblivious. Frank kicks the flap of his suitcase back down and drops a bottle of lube and a couple condoms on the bed. He lifts his shirt up and over his head, and tosses it to the floor.
He kneels on the bed, pushing the supplies towards Gerard. “You’re wearing too many clothes, dude,” Frank concludes. He tugs at the hem of Gerard’s hoodie, and crowds warm hands up into it.
“Should you really still be calling me ‘dude’ if we’re an item now?” Gerard asks, his voice becoming muffled by his sweatshirt being pulled over his head.
“ Dude , who the fuck says ‘item’,” Frank snorts, tossing the hoodie in the direction of his discarded shirt.
Gerard rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Nope,” Frank happily replies, smiling like an idiot before leaning in to kiss Gerard deeply, pressing him down into the pillows and crawling back up into his lap.
Gerard locks his fingers in Frank’s hair and kisses back roughly, biting his bottom lip and sucking on it. Frank groans low in the base of his throat and breaks the kiss to tug Gerard’s shirt off. He makes quick work of unbuttoning and pulling off both of their pants too. Gerard’s chest is flushed pink, and he feels so open, but somehow not uncomfortably exposed, looking up at Frank who’s equally as naked, and more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen.
“Sweet Iron Man boxers,” Frank teases, eyeing Gerard’s old underwear from like, his senior year of college.
“Fuck off,” Gerard responds. “They’re old as hell. If I’d known I was gonna be fucking you tonight maybe I would’ve worn something else.” Frank’s face goes dark at the sound of Gerard’s voice combined with the words ‘fucking you,’ and he barely hears the last part of Gerard’s little rant.
“Also, Iron Man’s fucking cool.” He crosses his arms as a habitual act of defense, and Frank cracks up.
“You are such a fucking dork,” Frank says, but it’s so fond and he’s leaning in for a kiss on the end of it. He reaches behind himself without ending the kiss, and picks up the lube and a condom, placing them in Gerard’s hand.
“C’mon, I’m really ready, Gee,” he says as he breaks the kiss, his tone settling into something serious.
Gerard kisses him again, quick and chaste, and then rolls him over on his stomach He tugs Frank’s boxers down and off his legs, tossing them to the floor. He leans down, and kisses the outline of that fucking gun tattoo. It’s really the most sexual thing in the world, always seeing those guns peeking up from underneath a too short t-shirt, or shifting above the line of a pair of tight boxers, but never being close enough to see the whole thing. Gerard clutches Frank’s hips and savors the experience of finally getting to press his lips to the lines of the tattoo.
Frank shifts his legs, sitting up on his knees, always so impatient. Gerard squeezes out lube onto one finger to start out with, and keeps his other hand clutching Frank’s hip as he pushes in.
Frank blows a rush of air out of his nose, and Gerard lines the small of his back with encouraging kisses as he works him slowly. Frank grunts and pushes back, needing more quicker than Gerard thought he would. Gerard squeezes more lube onto a second finger and tucks it up under the first. Frank moans out, leaning his forehead on his hands as he rocks back.
Gerard can feel his erection pressing against the fabric of his boxers and Frank is just. So good. He’s always so open, unashamed, and confident, so much so that he’s almost arrogant at times. Now, Gerard’s watching the slow destruction of secrets walls he never knew about as Frank writhes and gasps into a puddle of neediness and fragile honesty. It’s more than just a sex thing, Gerard knows this. It’s the threshold of true trust being crossed, and it makes him smile.
He pushes the third finger in and Frank melts so beautifully. He’s tight, but it’s right where it’s good. He’s where Gerard knows he’ll be ready soon, and it will only take a few more rolls of Frank’s hips down onto his fingers.
“Gee,” Frank says, a breathless plea.
“What is it?” Gerard tries to keep his voice soft.
“C’mon, I’m ready.” He’s impatient, his skin crawling with anticipation and boiling urgency.
“You sure?” Gerard asks, shifting his fingers around, and placing a soft kiss on the curve of Frank’s left hip.
“Yeah. Just. I like it...I like it to hurt a little, it’s fine.” Gerard grins when he hears the bashful shame in Frank’s voice, his face heating up to a light red, and it all goes straight to his dick.
He pulls out his fingers and settles down on the bed next to Frank, ripping open the condom and getting ready as Frank switches positions. He’s slowly jacking his dick as some relief when Frank looks at him again with those too open eyes, soft around the edges with something a little bit sweet and romantic.
“Now look who’s the sap,” Gerard comments, squeezing at the base of his dick.
“Shut up,” Frank blushes and swats Gerard’s hand away, crawling up into his lap. He positions himself and slowly slides down, his face pained at first, but finally settling into a look of pure happiness. He grunts and hangs his head down on Gerard’s already slightly sweaty shoulder.
Gerard clings to Frank’s sides and starts to thrust up just a little, trying to get some movement started. Frank moans and reciprocates the movement, pressing his hips down and grinding in a slow circle. He cradles Gerard’s neck in a similar way to that first time in the top bunk; like he’s hanging on for dear life and no one could make him let go. As if Gerard would want to. He’s basking in the sweet smell of Frank’s unwashed tour stink, and he’s not ashamed to admit that. It’s sharp, and masculine, with a swirl of some kind of musky cologne underneath it all. Gerard wonders if he wears whatever that is daily, or if he splashed some on before they got to the hotel as another act of preparation for the night. He presses a kiss to Frank’s tattooed shoulder and hums, fucking up into the slow drag of Frank’s hips.
“Fuck,” Frank says, breathless as he feels Gerard pressing up in time with his heavy rhythm. His thighs are shaking in Gerard’s lap and it’s so irresistible. Gerard runs his hands up the expanse of them and slaps one experimentally; not hard enough to redden, just this side of playful. Frank shudders out a moan, and grinds down harder. Gerard smirks.
“Have...have you ever done this before?” Frank asks quietly, making a soft noise in the back of his throat after as Gerard pulls down on his hips to match his thrusts.
Gerard’s quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he answers simply.
Frank responds with a barely audible moan, as if he’s embarrassed of it. Gerard thrusts up again, and Frank lets himself be loud.
“How many times?” he asks shakily, still not pulling his head out of Gerard’s neck to look at him directly.
Gerard grins, beginning to push up into Frank with an increased roughness. “More than once,” he says evenly.
Frank moans loud that time, and apparently the idea is really getting him off. Gerard squeezes his right thigh hard, digging his nails into the soft skin there. “What about you?” he asks.
Frank speeds up the steady rush and drag of his movements and he can hear the bed starting to creak in response. He flushes hot. “Yeah.”
Gerard smirks to himself, and decides to drag this out. He runs one hand through Frank’s damp hair slowly, and with the other he scratches long lines in the tender part of Frank’s thigh. “How many times?” he drops his voice, speaking low right into Frank’s ear, breathing hot air along the edge of it.
Frank’s legs visibly shake again and he grinds down roughly, a high whine threatening to part his lips. “More than once,” he huffs out, letting the bed creak loud and unashamed as he fucks himself faster on top of Gerard.
“God…” Gerard breathes, running his hands up to the back of Frank’s thighs to grab a handful of his ass. Frank tenses up, and Gerard smiles against his ear.
“You like when I talk to you?” Gerard asks quietly, pulling Frank down by the backs of his legs flush at the base of his cock and holding him there to thrust up. Helpless sounds tumble from Frank’s mouth and he tugs at Gerard’s hair, tighter and more desperate.
“God, Gee, yeah..” he admits, muffled in Gerard’s hair.
Gerard can tell he’s close, so he continues. “You know what I’d like to do next time?” he prompts, keeping Frank in place, tight and aching around him.
“Mmmff,” Frank responds gracefully.
Gerard sweeps hair out of Frank’s eyes and starts fucking him faster, bathing in the warm, rough drag of everything being just this side of too much and too fucking good to be true. “I’d like to eat you out,” he says, right up into Frank’s ear, speaking low and fast, in time with his sharp thrusts.
“Fuck,” Frank groans out, and the headboard is creaking so much that Mikey and Ray will no doubt ask questions tomorrow morning, but Gerard doesn’t care.
“You’d really like that, I know you would. Someone’s probably done it to you before, huh? Have they?”
Frank whines high and tight in his throat and only nods his head as an answer. Gerard’s sweating all over and wound up so much he can barely see straight, but he continues on, knowing Frank’s about to finish.
“How many times, Frankie?” he coaxes, rubbing a soothing circle into the area of Frank’ thigh that he’s previously been digging his nails into.
It’s a moment before Frank answers, as he responds to the relentless drive of Gerard up into him. He grinds down, moving in a slow roll that’s burning as hot as fire in his stomach. He presses his hands on Gerard’s shoulders and lifts his head up from where he had been laying against Gerard’s neck all this time.
He answers, “More than once,” and Gerard comes so hard he sees white.
It’s not the fourth time, or the fifth time, or even the time where Gerard’s eventually lost count that makes him see how important Frank is to him.
It’s not when the rest of the band jokes about them being together, and Frank kisses Gerard sloppy and heated in front of all of them to confirm it that makes him see it either. Even though it’s really funny when Mikey rolls his eyes, and says it was obvious when they had started fucking weeks ago, but no one said anything, and that Frank is being “melodramatic.”
It’s not when Frank holds his hand in public for the first time when they’re buying diet cokes at a gas station in Kentucky.
It’s not even when they go to a house party in North Carolina hosted by some shitty local band, and Frank actually punches the 6’3”, 200 lb hardcore dudebro who calls Gerard a fag, resulting in the whole band getting kicked out and a bruising purple black eye for Frank.
“You’re such a shithead, Frank,” Gerard had said while pressing a cold ice pack to Frank’s swelling eye.
“I’m your shithead,” he had smirked back, which made Gerard grin like a middle schooler.
“Gross,” Mikey had said, without even raising his eyes from his sidekick.
No, it’s none of that.
It’s when they’re alone with each other. When they’re passing the time in the front of the bus before they feel ready to sleep, while everyone else dozes off in the background. It’s when they’re cuddled close, so on top of each other that they’re almost one person, and doing nothing but talking, about anything and everything. It’s when Frank looks at him with those serious eyes; so serious that it scares Gerard sometimes. It’s when Frank looks at him like it’s that first time again, every time; when he looks at him like the whole world is just one big myth, and he’s the only truth.