Archive of Our Own

Frank barely registers the moments between the stage and the hotel room. The first week of tour has been a blur, and when he’s not so medicated that he struggles to remember the shows at all, Frank sometimes realizes he’s not even aware of half the shit he ends up doing in the whirlwind of their sets. It’s like his body moves of its own accord, spun around the stage by adrenaline, the heat of the moment and the inevitable gravitational pull between him and Gerard, taking over every time they step into each other’s orbit. 

Like a few days ago, when he wiped some blood gushing from a cut on his finger on Gerard’s cheek and found himself with Gerard’s fist in his hair and his tongue down his throat six songs later, caught so off guard he couldn’t even stop his arms from dropping. It was the first time Gerard had initiated a kiss on stage and it had left him breathless and dizzy, with his lips bruised and his ears ringing from the sheer fucking volume of the crowd’s reaction—weak in the knees until the end of the show, when Gerard had stormed to him and grabbed him by the arm to drag him inside their dressing room and fuck him bent over the leather couch.

Frank loves a good backstage fuck, loves the desperation to get off and get Gerard off as fast as he can; hands shoved down each other’s pants against a wall, knees knocking and faces buried in sweat-soaked hair and necks, the filthiest shit pouring out of Gerard’s mouth. Nothing gets Frank off harder than Gerard being rough because he wants him to, asks him to. When he’s mean and a bit of a narcissistic asshole, courtesy of thousands of screaming fans who’d cut their limbs off for him in a heartbeat fueling his ego, and Frank who’d be the first in line to do it. 

Sometimes he likes to just sink to his knees and let Gerard fuck his face with his back against the door, pushing him in deeper and harder with his hands gripping the back of his thighs until Gerard’s spilling down his throat with a broken groan and rubbing his spent cock on his puffy lips. Then Frank will stand back up on shaky legs and hump his thigh until he comes in his jeans with a muffled whine. When they’re done, if they aren’t interrupted by some fucker banging on the door and yelling at them to get their dicks back in their pants and their asses on the bus, Gerard will still pretend to be annoyed about whatever stunt Frank pulled on stage but be more mellow. It’s actually kinda funny how even if he tries he can’t help being tender after he comes. Frank will be slumped against his chest, soft and pliant in the afterglow and complaining about his sticky jeans and not having enough goddamn laundry days to save his life, and Gerard will hold him and give him kisses if he so much as puckers his lips.

Touring all the time got them used pretty quickly to fucking in the first available room with a door that locks, from dingy dressing rooms and toilet stalls to empty bedrooms at house parties back in the early days—constellated with firsts that Frank thinks back to now and then with a mix of embarrassment and aching fondness. He remembers the two of them in ‘03, stumbling around in the dark in some guy’s room tugging awkwardly at each other’s clothes, reeking of weed and booze and sweat, red-faced and gasping for breath between overeager kisses and giggles that wouldn’t stop bursting out of them, too stoned and too drunk to last more than two minutes, so fucking in love but not calling it that yet. God knows how many times they made out in their beat-up van too, spread out on the backseats in deserted gas station parking lots, sneaking clammy palms under each other’s shirts while the others fetched drinks and snacks.

Frank still likes the thrill, the urgent need-you-right-fucking-now feeling when they can’t keep their hands off each other, even if they know they’re being reckless. And even if they’ve had a bus for years now, he’s never been a fan of having people he considers his brothers listen to him come. So, yeah, backstage fucks are awesome, but after days on end on the road nothing beats a hotel night, and they’re getting one tonight. Frank would be celebrating even for simple reasons besides sex—like taking a long, hot shower and sleeping in a real bed without hearing people snore two feet away from him—but he would be lying if he said sleep was his priority tonight, or that he hasn’t been counting down the hours until he gets to have Gerard all to himself in a room of their own. 

Their set is over before he even realizes it, and once his guitar is safely in his tech’s hands he all but runs off stage and down into the narrow hallway leading to their dressing room, panting and plucking at the front of the sweat-soaked black t-shirt clinging to his skin. Despite the pounding in his ears and the ache in his wrists, he can’t wipe a grin off his face while he makes his way backstage. It’s not often that he feels like they played a great show but he’s not on the brink of passing out from heat and exhaustion, which is weird considering they’re in fucking Texas in August. He high-fives members of their crew, and when a red-haired girl whose name he can’t remember passes him a towel and a blue Gatorade he’s so grateful he could kiss her. He chugs half of it in one go and peers around looking for Gerard on the stage-left end of the hallway, but he doesn’t see him anywhere, so he decides to wait for him in their dressing room. 

A couple of minutes later he’s toweling his hair dry and bouncing on his feet with leftover energy, while Ray and Cortez are sprawled out on the couches, chatting animatedly about tonight’s set or the crazy crowd or whatever, Frank’s not really listening. All he can think about is Gerard, Gerard, Gerard: the cocky way he strutted around the stage like he fucking owned it, slurring obscenities into the mic to tease the crowd with his gravelly voice. That crooked smirk and crazy twinkle in his eyes that said he knew he had every single fan wrapped around his little finger, and Frank—well, Frank has always been the band’s first and biggest fan. 

He thinks specifically about Gerard walking up to him during Teenagers, scratching his head and ruffling his hair. How he had immediately leaned into the touch with his eyes closed, craning his neck to chase Gerard’s hand, wanting nothing more than to grab it and bring it to his lips in front of everyone.

“Frank?”

And then Gerard had pranced back into his space, swaying his hips and rubbing his crotch on his head, and Frank had almost tipped over trying to nuzzle his face into it before Gerard fucked off to the other side of the stage again. It’d only lasted a second but it’d made Frank hard, squeezed inside his tight jeans against the solid presence of his guitar, trying not to rut against the polished wood like a dog.

“Frankie.”

He hears it this time, and it snaps him out of his thoughts. He whips around and Gerard’s there, standing in the threshold, bracing himself with his hands and forearms against both sides of the door frame, his long legs crossed at the ankles and a hip cocked to the side. He’s got flecks of black eyeshadow smudged around his eyes and on the top of his cheeks, and damp strands of hair sticking to his temples and curling delicately around his neck. His chest heaves slightly in a rhythmic up-and-down, with sweat gathered and glistening in the hollow of his throat between the lapels of his jacket, and fuck, Frank wants to press his nose to it and lick it off.

“Hey,” Gerard says, “you good?” 

He looks amused, like he knows what’s on Frank’s mind—why he’s so distracted. His lips curl up in a lopsided smirk Frank’s intimately familiar with, has traced the contours of with his tongue and the pads of his fingertips, and Frank stares back dumbly with his towel hanging from his hands, waiting for his dry mouth to catch up with his brain. 

“Yeah,” he replies, clearing his throat. “Just—lost in thought.”

Gerard chuckles, grabbing his bag from the chair nearest to the door. “Our car’s here. I’ll wait outside, okay?” he says.

Frank nods. “I’ll be right there.” 

Gerard lingers by the door a little longer, talking schedules with Ray while Frank gathers his stuff and shoves it into his backpack carelessly. He sneaks a peek in the vanity mirror when he reaches for his CD player, and finds Gerard staring at him from across the room with glittery eyes full of promise and that smug little smirk still on his face, before he waves and leaves.

Frank watches him go and releases a deep breath from his nose, closing his eyes. Fuck, he’s so gone on him. He wants Gerard to do so many things to him tonight he thinks he’s gonna choke on it. 

He starts rolling the compression sleeve down his arm, not without struggling with how damp and fucking stuck to his skin it is, then throws it in his backpack along with a bottle of water he grabs from the catering table. For later. He says goodnight to the guys, resisting the temptation to throw something in Cortez’s face when he hollers, "Have fun with the…" and starts mimicking a very sloppy blowjob that makes Ray snort out his beer, and walks outside with their tour manager—who reminds him once again to check out early tomorrow or they won’t make it in time for soundcheck in Dallas.

“Yeah, I got it the first fifteen times you said it, dude,” Frank jokes, and he's sent off with an exasperated look and a pat on the shoulder. 

Once he’s out of the emergency exit, where security made sure fans wouldn’t be lurking around, it doesn’t take Frank long to find Gerard smoking with his back against the wall, still in his stage jacket. He walks up to him and squeezes his arm, and Gee smiles at him, easy and bright.

“There you are,” he says. 

Frank smiles back. “Here I am.”

He watches Gerard take a short drag and exhale the smoke from one side of his mouth, fingers stretched around the cig in that funny way of his. Gerard turns his hand to offer him what’s left of it then, and if Frank didn’t know he was craving a smoke before, now he clearly does.

“Fuck yeah,” he says, shuffling closer. “Thanks.” 

Instead of taking the cigarette, he folds his fingers around Gerard’s wrist and brings his hand closer to his face to smoke directly from it. He can feel Gerard staring, but he doesn’t look back, reveling in the weight of those pretty eyes on him as he closes his lips around the filter and hollows his cheeks to inhale, humming quietly as smoke fills his lungs. He doesn’t know what’s more intoxicating—the nicotine hitting his system or having Gerard’s undivided attention like this—but he thinks he’s got his answer when he blows out the smoke and meets his intense gaze. Standing so close, it’s like he can feel the air charging. His chest feels tight, and it’s got nothing to do with the cigarette smoke. Gerard’s thumb brushes the corner of his lips, and he shivers. 

He takes the last drag and plucks the cig from the V of Gerard’s index and middle finger to flick it to the ground when he’s done. Gerard stomps it under his boot and grabs his duffle bag, nodding towards a black car parked in front of them.

“Let’s go.”

They climb into the backseats and fall into a simmering silence. Despite Frank’s instinct to never shut the fuck up and never sit still, it’s not like they can do shit with the driver in the front seat, so he settles for staring at Gerard while he looks out of the car window with his chin resting in his hand. He’s so fucking beautiful, all sharp nose and long, curled lashes that almost brush his cheeks when he blinks. The city lights bathe his pale skin in intervals, casting flickering highlights and shadows across his face that give him an almost otherworldly look, and Frank’s never gonna stop being totally in awe of him. Gerard can be ridiculously pretty and devastatingly handsome, but he’s been beautiful since the day he met him. 

Frank chews on his lip, feeling himself starting to get impatient, so he leans his head back against the headrest and takes a few deep breaths, letting anticipation brew. What happens next is that he either dozes off or is so out of it that he doesn’t remember the rest of the ride, but in what seems like the blink of an eye they’re standing in a hotel lobby, and Gerard is holding a key card in one hand and guiding him into a too-bright elevator with the other.

“C’mon, Frankie," he tells him, fingers brushing the small of his back.

It’s a short ride to their floor, spent with Gerard pressed to his side and the almost unbearable effort not to kiss him right there because fucking security cameras. When the doors slide open, and Gerard throws him a loaded look over his shoulder before walking out, it’s like a dam breaks and Frank’s suddenly flooded with jittery, restless energy as he trails behind him with bated breath.  

Gerard swipes the key card and the door clicks open, and they barely make it inside the room before Frank’s grabbing his face and finally kissing him, hard and desperate and slamming him back against the door. Gerard’s head hits the wood with a thump, making him hiss and drop his bag to cup Frank’s jaw with both hands and stroke his cheekbones as he kisses back hungrily, parting his lips to welcome Frank’s eager tongue and suck on it. 

Frank muffles a moan into his mouth, whining, “Gee,” and letting go only to shrug his backpack off.

“Baby.” Gerard bumps their noses together. “Frankie, fuck—”

Frank is crashing their mouths together again, needy and insistent, heart pounding as he pries Gerard’s lips open. Gerard curls his fingers tightly in his hair and lets him take, sighing into it when Frank cradles his neck and jaw and tugs his lower lip between his teeth, soothing it with a swipe of his tongue after. Gerard pulls him closer, spreading his legs for him to fit snugly between them, and Frank feels crazy with how much he missed having him like this and knowing they don’t have to rush or hold back or be quiet.

Frank turns his face into Gerard’s hand to press a long, adoring kiss to the smooth skin of his palm just like he wanted to do earlier on stage, and tells him, “Missed this—you.” 

“Missed this too,” Gerard sighs, tucking long strands of Frank’s hair behind his ear with his free hand to pepper kisses from his temple to the side of his nose. Frank nuzzles his face into Gerard’s hand and can’t resist sticking his tongue out to lick it, making Gerard snort and jerk his hand away instinctively—but Frank holds onto it and nips playfully at the pad of his thumb.

“Stop biting me and c’mere,” Gerard says, sounding almost petulant, and Frank hums and releases the heel of his hand with a pop.

“I am here.” He grins as he's being pulled into another kiss.

It’s Gerard who pushes his tongue into his mouth greedily this time, using his almost bruising grip on Frank's face to move his head to the side to deepen it. Frank lets him, feeling himself melt into it. His shoulders drop, his hands fall around Gerard’s wrists to hold them loosely, and he ends up chasing Gerard’s lips when he pulls away and smirks down at him like the cat that got the fucking cream, sliding one arm around his back to press their hips flush together.

Frank’s mouth falls open on a choked gasp. “Shit,” he gulps, lightheaded and fully hard now under the too-many layers of clothes between them, and he can feel Gerard’s own growing hardness poking the top of his thigh, the whole shape of it squeezed against him. Frank shudders and muffles a growl in the warm space between Gerard’s neck and shoulder, pulling at the collar of his jacket to sink his teeth into the pale skin and suck a pretty little mark there. He tastes like sweat and stale perfume, salty and bitter, and Frank starts trailing wet kisses up his neck and grinding his hips, encouraged by the breathy noises Gerard’s making.

“The hair—” Frank noses at Gerard’s cheek, hands roaming to push up the hem of his shirt and touch the soft skin of his stomach. “The hair thing you did on stage. You tryin’ to kill me in public or something?”

Gerard chuckles, and he sounds so fucking smug when he pets his head and replies, “What, like it’s my fault you get off on me touching your hair?” that Frank just has to shut him up with his tongue.

“Yeah, well, I don’t wanna pop a fucking boner in front of a crowd,” he mutters when he pulls back, smirking when he looks straight into Gerard’s eyes and adds, “that’s kinda your thing.”

“Fuck off!” Gerard laughs, pushing at his shoulder in mock offense, but Frank hooks his fingers into the waistband of his jeans and under the elastic of his boxers and doesn’t budge, chuckling himself.

“Oh, I’m wrong?” he teases, scratching the coarse, dark hairs peeking out from Gerard’s underwear.

Frank feels the way he sucks in his tummy, the muscles tensing under his knuckles, and he can’t wait to put his mouth there. But for now he’s happy just kissing Gerard again, catching his muttered ‘whatever’ between his lips. When Frank leans down to nibble along his throat and suck lightly on his Adam’s apple, he feels the hitch in Gerard’s breath directly against his tongue. The hand not already splayed over the small of Frank’s back drops down to squeeze his ass, and God, Frank wants him everywhere.

They’re gonna have to move from the door at some point for that to actually happen, so he starts walking backwards, pulling Gerard in by his belt loops while still mouthing at his neck and jaw. 

“Come on, I heard hotel rooms have beds.”

“You’re the one who fucking jumped me,” Gerard protests, and does shove him half-heartedly this time. 

Frank shrugs, grinning when he says, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to do that for days." And maybe he should be embarrassed about how earnest he sounds, but he doesn’t know how to be anything but embarrassingly honest when it comes to Gerard. Wearing his heart on his sleeve isn’t something he’s ever gonna stop doing, and seeing the way Gerard melts and goes all coy for it like he’s still surprised Frank’s stupidly in love with him is just a sweet bonus. He almost tackles him into another kiss, and Frank laces their fingers together while stumbling backwards into the room.

He steps out of his sneakers along the way and kicks them against the wall, but Gerard can’t do the same without having to stop and bend down to unzip his beat-up leather boots, so Frank takes the chance to take a look around their room: it’s nice—pretty standard for what they get on these tours and miles better than the shitty ass motel rooms they used to stay at a couple of years ago, which funnily enough used to feel like luxury back then. There’s the usual nondescript furniture, a small TV, a door to their en-suite bathroom, and most importantly two queen beds with crisp white sheets and dark wood headboards. 

“Motherfucker,” he hears Gerard grunt behind him. Frank turns and finds him crouched down and pulling off his last boot and sock victoriously. Gerard straightens back up then, smiling as he leans in for a kiss, and another, and another, and by the time the back of Frank’s thighs meets the soft edge of the nearest bed they’re making out again, his fingers tangled in messy, dark locks while Gerard cradles his face like he’s something fucking precious and traces his upper lip with the tip of his tongue.

When Frank finally breaks the kiss for air he feels dizzy, out of focus. “Fuck,” he spits, fingers leaving Gerard’s hair to squeeze his waist. “Fuck, Gee, I need—”

“Yeah?” Gerard sighs, holding his chin between two fingers and giving a peck to his lips. “Tell me what you need.” 

Frank swallows, knees almost buckling when Gerard slips his tongue easily into the corner of his mouth and starts rubbing their dicks together through their jeans. He urges Frank to match the little rolls of his hips with the hand groping his waist, and shit, it’s so fucking ridiculous that they’re still wearing all their clothes. Frank whimpers, struggling to keep his eyes open when Gerard leans back and tilts his face up. 

“Tell me,” Gerard insists. “You know I wanna hear it, baby.” 

It makes Frank’s face burn, the honey in Gerard’s tone and the embarrassment of having to voice what he wants instead of just jumping headfirst into it, but then the words simply tumble out of his mouth.

“Hold me down and fuck my face. Choke me, use me, cover me in spit and come. I want all of it, all over me.”

Gerard’s eyebrows shoot up, his pupils blown so wide as they move frantically over his face that he can barely make out the color of his irises. Frank doesn’t know why he’s holding his stupid breath waiting for his reaction—stomach tensed from anticipation and heart hammering so hard he’s sure Gerard can feel his pulse under his fingers—but after a moment of stunned silence Gerard huffs out a breath and his face lights up.

“Jesus, Frankie, that’s so fucking hot.”

Frank grins into the scorching kiss Gerard lays on him, reaching up to wrap his arms around his neck. He gasps and lets out a pathetic whimper when he feels Gerard move his hand to palm him through his jeans, hips thrusting into his hand jerkily.

“And I wanna—” Frank stutters, feeling Gerard roll the heel of his hand harder over his cock, “fuck, I wanna make you come twice.” 

“Hmm, is that a challenge?” 

Frank chuckles breathlessly, sliding his hands down to Gerard’s chest. “Maybe. Just—lemme suck you off first?”

Gerard nods, eyes sparkling, and bumps his forehead against his. “Please.” 

“Cool,” Frank says, punctuating it with another short kiss. He sneaks his hands under the front of Gerard’s jacket to start sliding it off his shoulders, adds, ”Then you can fuck my brains out,” with a smirk, and Gerard beams.

Kissing while trying to get naked as fast as possible is never smooth, but Frank doesn’t care. He frees Gerard’s arms from his sleeves and rolls up the black t-shirt clinging to his sweaty back, tossing it on the floor followed by his own, then drags him in by the waist and lunges for his lips, flinching when their teeth knock a bit too hard. Gerard huffs out a laugh and licks inside his mouth, squeezing Frank’s hips tightly and digging his thumbs into his swallows while Frank makes quick work of his belt.

He feels the light scrape of Gerard’s nails across his pubes, then his fingers on his button and zipper, pulling his fly open. Frank inches back to nose at his chin and trail a line of sloppy kisses down his neck and chest, hearing Gerard’s breath catch when he sucks a nipple into his mouth and laps at it, flicking it with his tongue until it’s shiny with spit and flushed pink. Frank hums lightly against Gerard’s skin and drags his lips across his sternum to kiss and roll his other nipple between his teeth, making Gerard sigh out his name and arch his back—and if they were taking it slow Frank would spend minutes doing just this and get him riled up with nothing more than his mouth on his chest and his hand on his cock, but just a few moments later Gerard abandons Frank’s now undone jeans to cup his face and bring him up for another kiss.

Warm hands hold his jaw slack, and then Gerard slips a thigh between his legs, pressing up against his crotch and making Frank whimper and rut mindlessly against it, his hands roving across Gerard’s body like he doesn’t know where to put them because he needs to touch all of him at once.

“God, you’re so hot.” Frank licks the corner of Gerard’s mouth, spreading his fingers over his ribcage and squeezing right under his armpits, where the skin is warmer and slightly damp. “I wanna taste you everywhere,” he says, ducking down to rub his face against the top of Gerard’s shoulder.

“Yeah?” Gerard breathes, scratching the back of his head.

“Mm-hmm.” Frank nods, and for some strange reason something compels him to shove his face under Gerard’s arm. Gerard honks out a laugh and squirms, spluttering, “What the fuck, Frank?”, but he just holds onto his arm and sticks his nose right in his pit.

The scent hits him like a punch—musky and pungent, like sweat and old deodorant clinging to skin and unwashed stage clothes, but it’s really not as rancid as it used to be. It’s just the way Gerard smells after shows now, and Frank’s wires must have gotten seriously crossed because it’s going straight to his cock.

His eyes roll back into his skull when he groans on the exhale, breath puffing against the wiry, curly hairs. Gerard giggles and gasps, trying to push his head back, but Frank clings onto him, the acrid taste of sweat filling his mouth when he presses a kiss to the side of his chest and wiggles his tongue out.

“It tickles!” Gerard shrieks, pinching the top of his hip until he yields.

“Alright, alright,” Frank snickers, kissing the soft, freckled skin of Gerard’s underarm before coming back up with an innocent smile. 

“Unbelievable.” Gerard shakes his head. He wrinkles his nose when Frank pecks his chin, but his pupils look all blown out, and he doesn’t seem to mind when Frank cradles the back of his head with both hands to bring him in for a kiss and makes him suck his own bitter taste off his tongue.

Gerard’s hands drop hard on his ass, pulling their bodies flush together and making Frank choke on a moan when he feels how hard Gerard is—then looks down and sees the way his dick tents the thin fabric of his briefs, leaving a wet stain where the head strains against the elastic.

“Fuck.” He leans back to resume yanking Gerard’s stupidly tight jeans down his legs, muttering under his breath, “Jesus Christ, it’s like they’re fucking glued on you.”

"Hold on," Gerard chuckles, putting his hands on Frank's shoulders for balance.

Once they manage to get his pants around his ankles, Frank stands back up and lets himself fall back on his ass on the mattress, raising his hips with a wiggle to kick his own jeans off with a satisfied sigh. Gerard smirks down at him, stepping out of his jeans and between his spread legs, and Frank makes him yelp and almost tips him over with how fast he drags him in by the waist.

Frank buries his face in Gerard’s tummy and loses himself in big, open-mouthed kisses that leave a wet trail of red marks on his pale skin, while Gerard twirls the ends of his hair between his fingers. With his eyes closed, Frank hears a stuttered moan when he sinks his teeth into the fleshy part of Gerard's hip, stroking his hands down his sides to wrap them around the back of his thighs and squeeze.

He sneaks his fingers under the hem of Gerard’s boxers and kneads his cheeks, grinning up at him when he asks, “You gonna get on top of me or what?” and gives another playful tug to his legs—but all breath whooshes out of Frank when Gerard wraps a hand around the back of his neck and squeezes right below his jaw.  

“You’ve been so good at waiting, what’s a little more, hmm?” he says.

The shift’s so sudden Frank can’t fucking keep up. His stomach clenches, shoulders droop, and his head feels light and heavy at the same time when Gerard tilts his chin up. Frank watches him with half-hooded eyes, mouth agape and what he imagines can only be described as reverence written all over his face, heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s gonna tear his chest open. Gerard looks so tall like this, all messy dark hair and sharp cheekbones, a tan flush across the bridge of his nose. His lips curl up into a deceivingly sweet grin he’s used to seeing on stage as he brushes Frank’s hair off his face and cards his fingers through it in slow strokes that make him feel like he’s already floating. 

“You’re gorgeous, y’know?” Gerard whispers. Inching closer, he lets his dick bumps Frank’s chin, straining and achingly hard—and as soon as Gerard lets up, Frank bends down to nuzzle and kiss the tip through the fabric, rolling his tongue around it until it’s soaking wet. Small, desperate sounds are coaxed from the back of Frank’s throat as he drops kisses all over the head and laps at the underside with the flat of his tongue.

“Fuck, baby, look at you,” Gerard pants.

Frank whimpers around the outline of his cock, glancing up quickly to see the way his chest heaves and his mouth hangs open. He hooks two fingers under the waistband of Gerard’s boxers, just starting to roll them down when Gerard grabs his chin and forces his head up again. Frank huffs, frustrated and almost shaking with the effort to wait and sit still under the weight of Gerard’s amused gaze flitting over his face, and the thing is, if his dick isn’t down his throat in the next minute he’s gonna go fucking insane and Gerard knows it.

“You want it bad, huh?” he teases, and Frank wants to lick his smirk away. He squirms and begs instead.

“Please, Gee, please—”

“Fucking gagging for it.” Gerard brushes his bottom lip with his thumb, swiping it from side to side. “So needy,” he murmurs, eyes trained on Frank’s mouth. He slips his thumb between his lips and Frank touches it with his tongue, sucking on the knuckle when Gerard hooks it behind his teeth and says, “Open up.”

Fuck yes, Frank thinks giddily. He holds eye contact as he parts his lips and holds his tongue out obediently, and Gerard leans down, works his cheeks and lets a long string of spit dribble right into his mouth. It falls on his tongue, some spilling down his chin, and Frank moans and bucks wildly against Gerard’s legs, rolling his tongue back into his mouth to mix the spit with his own and swallow eagerly—all the while looking at Gerard as he rubs and smacks his lips together loudly.

Gerard stares at him with a half-fond, half-smug expression and pets his cheek. “Good boy.” 

Frank almost growls at the praise and rubs his face into Gerard’s hand, clawing at his lower back. “Get here,” he grunts, urging him with a tiny kick to his shins.

Gerard lets him roll down his boxers this time, and he sucks in a breath watching his hard dick bob free in front of his face, big and flushed and fucking perfect. Frank wants to taste the precome smeared around the tip, get Gerard to fuck his throat right there on the edge of the bed, but before he knows it Gerard’s putting a knee up on the mattress and fisting the hair at his nape to kiss him all filthy and breathless, tugging his lower lip between his teeth like he wants to break skin.

Frank moans into it, raking his fingers up his calf, and he takes the hint more than happily when Gerard nudges him to lie on his back. He scoots up the bed blindly until his head hits the pillows, lies back and lets himself drink in the way Gerard looks crawling after him on all fours, moving slowly like a big cat, his cock hanging heavy between his thighs. He can’t help a whispered ‘fuck’ that makes Gerard look very happy with himself, and Frank almost wishes he could grab his camera and take a picture, but he knows it wouldn’t do the real thing any fucking justice anyway.

He raises his hips to help Gerard get rid of his boxers, and fuck it feels good when his dick springs free. Gerard sits on top of his legs then, running his hands across his stomach to splay his fingers in the crease between hip and thigh. He wraps them around Frank’s cock next, making him whine and grope at his hips, sitting back up to crash their mouths together. Gerard curls an arm around his neck and scoots up into his lap, rubbing himself against Frank’s stomach while his fingers move over his dick slowly, and Frank needs to stop him because he can’t wait another fucking second to have him in his mouth. He bats Gerard’s hand away, squeezing his fingers apologetically when he makes a hmph sound in protest and frowns at him. 

“Sorry,” Frank huffs out a laugh, “I’m not gonna last, like, at all if you do that.” He butts his forehead against Gerard’s then, murmuring, “Wanna suck you off, Gee. I want you to fuck my face,” and reaching down to give his dick a couple of long, firm strokes.

“Fucking hell,” Gerard sighs, breath washing over Frank’s face. Frank watches him closely, gaze wandering from the pink tongue poking out of Gerard’s lips to the flutter of his eyelids, half-hooded and smudged black. His cock feels huge in his hand, swelling and getting even harder as he pumps him lazily, and Frank looks down at the pretty slide of his tattooed knuckles up and down his length and cups the head, thumbing at the slit in tiny little circles that have Gerard squirming in his lap.

“How do you want me?” Gerard asks, and Frank twists around to stack a couple of pillows against the headboard, settles back comfortably on them and grins at Gerard, patting his chest.

“Like this.” 

Gerard smirks, shuffling up his chest on his knees to straddle it. He hovers over him, smooth calves pressed to either side of his ribcage and knees tucked snugly under Frank’s arms that wrap around the top of his thighs. Frank bites his lip and squeezes his ass with both hands, digging his short nails into his skin, and Gerard arches back into the touch, dick bobbing and curving up towards his stomach, beading with precome at the tip that makes Frank salivate just looking at it.

He stares up at him with big, pleading eyes when Gerard caresses his face and grabs himself at the base with his other hand to trace the seam of Frank’s lips with the head of his dick, like it’s fucking lipstick. Gerard’s tapping it against his cheek next, kicking a shaky breath out of his lungs, and Frank just can’t play around anymore—he moves his head and takes him down as far as he can in one go, moaning at the perfect feeling of Gerard’s weight on his tongue and the way he stretches his lips taut at the corners.

“Frankie,” Gerard gasps out, bracing himself against the headboard and grabbing a fistful of his hair, and Frank whimpers, relaxing his jaw and breathing through his nose to work his throat around him.

Fucking finally, he thinks. Frank doesn’t tease or work his way up to it, only pulls back with his tongue flat against the underside to suck on the head and plunge back down, and he encourages Gerard to thrust into his mouth with the fingers kneading and spreading his cheeks. The angle is perfect, and after a few tries Frank deep-throats him smoothly, nose buried in the dark thatch of hair above the base, throat clenching and unclenching around the fat head of Gerard’s cock as the salty taste of precome hits his tongue. 

“Holy fuck,” he hears, low and breathy, and the hand in his hair tightens, holding him in place. Frank closes his eyes and breathes in his musky scent where it’s the strongest, feeling something primal and visceral twist inside of him with every inch of Gerard filling his mouth. He’s always been crazy about giving head. There’s just something so powerful about feeling Gerard’s cock throb and get harder in his mouth knowing it’s because of him, that he’s the only one who gets him like this. He loves the soreness in his jaw and the lack of air when Gerard pushes in, unrestrained, and Frank lets him use him like a toy—like he’s made for it. 

Right now, the heavy pressure of Gerard’s cock on the back of his throat threatens to gag him—he can feel the muscle fluttering against the intrusion. The fist in his hair sends sharp tingles of pleasure-pain across his scalp, and when he whines brokenly it makes Gerard snap his hips, choking him enough that Frank has to wrench himself back to cough and catch his breath.

“You okay?” Gerard pets his hair.

“M’okay,” he replies when the coughing subsides, rubbing his chin with the back of his hand and swallowing the excess spit in his mouth. Gerard strokes his cheekbone with his thumb, and Frank smiles up at him with watery eyes and finds him also heaving for breath, a red flush spread across his face down to his chest. He leans in again to drop kisses all over Gerard’s length, suckling at the head and tonguing the slit with a pleased hum. 

“Love your cock, Gee,” he rasps, wrapping one hand around it to flatten it against Gerard’s stomach and lick a broad stripe up the underside, then works his cheeks and looks up as he drools all over Gerard’s cock, basking in the way Gerard’s eyes darken and his fist tightens in his hair. He dives back in and the slide is so much wetter and sloppier now, just the way he likes it, his spit dripping down Gerard’s balls that he cups and fondles in his right hand at the same time as he sucks his dick back down his throat greedily. 

“Oh my god, Frank—” Gerard’s voice shakes when he moans out his name. Tears get trapped in Frank’s lashes when he forces his eyes up and urges Gerard to move with a harsh grip on the back of his thighs. They tense under his hands and Gerard folds, leaning his forehead on his arm bent against the headboard and starting to roll his hips shallowly but at a steady pace.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” Gerard breathes, little staccato moans spewing from his lips. Frank notices the way his eyes are glued to his own cock thrusting into his mouth—Gerard’s obsessed with watching himself fuck him. He’s an exhibitionist even in private, and Frank wishes there was a big mirror in the room so he could see himself too, watch the way Gerard turns him into a shaking, drooling mess. His dick stirs at the idea of seeing himself like this or when he’s getting fucked through the mattress, imagining how he’d look like with his mouth slack and blissed out, sweaty strands of hair stuck to his face, bent over and rocking back on Gerard’s cock in a haze.

Frank humps the air uselessly and grunts, hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue quickly around Gerard’s dick. It’s so easy to lose himself in this, to forget how hard he is until he’s got Gerard coming for him. His wet gagging noises and Gerard’s raspy groans fill the room, and the fingers in his hair loosen to stroke his temple, his cheek, the corner of his stretched lips. Gerard keeps them there so he can feel himself thrust lazily into Frank’s mouth, trace the shape of his cock through the bulge in his cheek like he loves to do. 

“So beautiful,” Gerard murmurs, “you don’t even fucking know.”

Frank hums at the praise, leaning his face into Gerard’s hand as he pulls back to suckle at the head and hold it between his open lips for him to see. He tongues at the slit, eyes blurry with tears that eventually spill over when he bats his eyelashes up at him, and Gerard wipes them away with his thumb. A thick string of spit connects the tip of his cock to Frank’s swollen lips when he lets it slip out of his mouth and Gerard says, “Want me to fuck you pretty little mouth, huh? Want me to choke you on my dick?” 

“Do it.” He slaps Gerard’s ass. “Fuck my throat, wreck me.” 

Gerard chuckles. “Jumped straight into it, didn’t even let me make you suck on my fingers a little bit,” he says, mocking, and sticks three fingers in his mouth.

Frank closes his lips around them with a guttural noise and sucks them down to the knuckle. Gerard crooks his fingers down, pressing on his tongue hard but not enough to choke him, but fuck, Frank wants him to. He pushes his tongue up against the long digits, bobbing his head to follow the back-and-forth movement of his hand, but Gerard smirks and takes his fingers out after a few moments, wiping them roughly on his cheek. 

“Maybe later. You’re so desperate for it.”

“Please, please, please,” Frank begs. Feeling dizzy and shameless, he surges forward and kisses the top of Gerard’s thighs, licks the dark hairs under his belly button, practically nuzzles his whole face into his crotch. When he looks up at him again, Gerard huffs out a laugh, wide-eyed. 

“Damn, baby. Okay.” 

Gerard cradles his jaw tenderly, pushing his hair off his face with both hands and twirling it around his fingers, and Frank almost thinks he’s gonna go slow again, make him beg for it, but in the blink of an eye Gerard is yanking his head back against the pillows and kneeling on top of his face, and Frank doesn’t get nor want any time to adjust as Gerard holds him down and shoves his cock into his mouth, immediately building up speed. It’s abrupt and rough and so fucking good. Frank already feels himself slipping into that sweet, fuzzy headspace, overpowered and letting Gerard do whatever he wants to him. He can’t believe how much he needs this, how madly he wants to be used until he’s spent and boneless and fucked out on the sheets. Gerard’s shallow thrusts turn deeper, and soon more tears are rolling down Frank’s face as the head of his dick hits the back of his throat repeatedly at a relentless rhythm. 

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Gerard moans, panting heavily and holding both sides of his face now, making it easy for him to slide between his lips and stay there, filling him up with his cock jammed so deep down his throat Frank can only gurgle brokenly around it. “So good for me, choking on my dick, taking everything I give you.” 

Frank relaxes and does take it, eyes rolling into the back of his head, and he can only focus on his breathing and push down the instinct to gag, the lack of air making his lungs burn. He feels every part of his body going slack and a heady rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Tears and saliva wet the corners of his mouth stretched tightly around Gerard’s cock and run down his neck, and his hands drop to curl limply around the back of Gerard’s knees until he pulls out with a drawn-out groan after what feels like endless minutes.

Frank splutters and sucks air back into his lungs like a drowning man, looking up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, but Gerard holds his jaw and spits right into his mouth, and Frank can only whimper and jerk his hips up into nothing but air. He licks it all up gratefully—Gerard’s spit and precome and his own salty tears, suddenly aware of how damp his face feels.

“Pretty,” Gerard coos. “‘M’so close, Frankie.”

“Come on my face,” he begs, almost wincing at how hoarse his voice sounds. 

“Yeah? That what you want?” he asks, giving his cheek the lightest slap.

Frank nods pathetically, raking his fingers up Gerard’s legs, and Gerard smiles down wolfishly at him and positions himself. He licks his hand, the way he does on stage too, even if his dick is fucking dripping with how wet it is, then fists his cock and holds the back of Frank’s head. Frank whimpers and opens his mouth for him to rest the head between his parted lips, and Gerard starts stroking himself quickly.

He looks dazedly between the almost blurry movement of Gerard’s hand on his cock and the way his face looks all scrunched up in concentration, eyes closed and sweat gathered at his hairline and on his furrowed brows. A crescendo of breathy moans falls from Gerard’s red bitten lips and Frank holds his breath in anticipation, but when he moves to spread Gerard’s cheeks and circle a couple of fingers around his rim he lets out a loud groan and shudders, and the first hot spurts of come hit his tongue. Frank holds it out for him, tiny happy whines rising from his throat as Gerard jerks himself off in his mouth and all over his face. Thick ribbons of come stripe his lips and cheeks, and he gathers everything he can on his tongue and swallows it, moaning at the taste and letting whatever doesn’t fit in his mouth dribble down his chin and neck, smiling up at Gerard as he fights to keep his eyes open to look straight into his. Finally he leans back in to milk his cock, hollowing his cheeks and making obscene slurping noises until Gerard hisses and nudges his head back with a trembling hand.

“Fuck, Frankie,” he pants, knocking the breath out of Frank when he slumps down on top of him to sit back on his calves, head hanging low and jaw slack, his soft dick resting limply between his pale thighs and smearing traces of come on Frank’s belly, above the And. He looks at him from under his lashes and huffs out a delirious giggle. “You should fuckin’ see yourself.” 

“Yeah?” Frank grins through ragged breaths. He knows what he’s gotta look like with Gerard’s jizz sliding down his face and neck, tears and snot gathered on his upper lip, and his hair matted to his sweaty forehead and wet cheeks. “Do I look pretty?”

“Uh-huh.” Gerard leans in to scoop some come from his neck and feed it to him, making Frank suck on his fingers, then kisses him, licking his taste off Frank’s tongue. “The prettiest,” he whispers.

Frank moans pitifully, feeling the sticky mess on his face smear and rub off on Gerard’s and seeing the proof of it when he pulls back—and something in his expression must give away how much the sight turns him on, because Gerard giggles again. 

“Do you even want me to clean you off?” he asks.

“No,” Frank grumbles.

“Knew it. You’re such a comeslut,” Gerard teases, and it makes Frank’s dick twitch. He grunts and rubs his thighs together, mouth falling open as Gerard wipes more come off his own chin and sucks on his fingers, humming at his own fucking taste.

“Jesus. I think that makes two of us,” Frank says.

Gerard smirks, slipping spit-slick fingers out of his mouth to lean in again and pry Frank’s lips open with slow, shallow thrusts of his tongue that make Frank think he’ll let him do and say whatever he wants as long as he keeps kissing him like this. He strokes Frank's arms too, up and down, tracing circles in the inside of his elbows, and Frank squeezes the top of his thighs, whimpering when Gerard rubs his ass against his achingly hard dick. 

Frank starts rutting against him, until Gerard holds his hips down and licks the corner of his mouth, unfolding his legs to lie on top of him. He props himself up on one hand, but Frank wraps his arms around his shoulders and drags him down to feel his whole weight on top of him—keeps him there for a while, making out lazily while Gerard plays with his hair between his fingers. Soon Frank can no longer ignore his dick sandwiched between their stomachs and how fucking incredible the pressure feels after being untouched for so long. He loses himself in jerky movements of his hips as he mewls and hooks a leg around Gerard’s waist, making him huff against his lips, overstimulated by Frank’s dick rubbing against his soft cock.

Gerard pulls back to look into his eyes for a long moment, stroking a lock of hair off Frank’s face. He says, “Get on your stomach, I’m gonna get the lube,” and the words kick the breath from Frank’s lungs.

He swallows and nods, staring back dazedly into Gerard’s dark eyes and mumbling, “In my backpack.”

Gerard rolls off of him and Frank flips over onto his belly, pulse quickening as the mood switches from easy and playful to what he was feeling just a few minutes ago: impatient and filled with a sense of greedy need and anticipation.

“Good.” Gerard presses a kiss between his shoulder blades. Then his breath is right by his ear, and with a flick of his tongue he whispers, “Don’t hump the bed,” before Frank feels him leaving his side.

“Fuck,” he groans into the pillow, rubbing his face into it and already leaving a wet spot in the cotton with the come smeared on his face. The soft sheets feel amazing against his dick, and he clenches his muscles trying to fight the urge to grind down into the mattress, closing his eyes and waiting. He hears Gerard rummaging in his backpack, then a zipper being closed and footsteps nearing, and Frank swallows, his throat clicking audibly. 

When the bed dips under Gerard’s weight, Frank doesn’t expect the soft brush of lips directly at the center of his spine, and he gasps, clutching the pillow and arching his back, letting himself be maneuvered up on his hands and knees when Gerard grabs his hips. His hands trail down Frank’s sides and the top of his thighs while he scatters kisses all over his back, from his tailbone to the back of his neck, and Frank spreads his legs, feeling Gerard kneel behind him and drape himself over his back. He’s nosing at his cheek then, and Frank turns his head to meet him halfway in an awkwardly-angled kiss, looking at him through half-hooded eyes when they pull away. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” Gerard smiles. They kiss a little longer, then he murmurs, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” and Frank can’t bite back a whimper.

“Please,” he breathes out, rolling his hips back into Gerard’s hands on his ass. 

Gerard kisses his hair, the corner of his jaw, the crook of his shoulder—leaving a trail of sparks along Frank’s spine as he makes his way down his body. His weight gradually leaves his back, and Frank closes his eyes and spreads his thighs more, going down from his hands to his elbows, resting his forehead against his arms. He couldn’t be more exposed than this, he thinks, all spread out and eager. Gerard traces the tips of his guns with his tongue while his fingers knead his cheeks, drawing circles around the letters on his hips, closer and closer, just a breath away. He nuzzles his cheeks, kisses the back of his thighs, anywhere except where Frank wants him, needs him.

Legs trembling and heart hammering, Frank sucks in his stomach when Gerard spreads him with his fingers and breathes over his hole, kissing lightly above his rim but still not fucking there, and Frank’s about to cuss him out, but then Gerard dives in, licking a broad stripe from his taint to his hole.

“Holy fuck,” he gasps, jerking back with a full-body shudder. 

Gerard holds his cheeks open and licks his rim over and over, getting him wet and loose with his tongue. Frank bites down on his forearm, muffling a broken, drawn-out moan against it as he feels beads of precome roll down his dick. His asshole flutters, muscles clenching under Gerard’s tongue as every bit of focus gets drawn to that one single spot, and the pleasure spreads in tingles throughout his whole body when Gerard sucks on his rim, kisses it with a loud smacking sound, and stiffens his tongue to press it in slowly. 

“Oh—oh God,” he stutters, holding his breath as Gerard breaches him deeper and starts fucking him with his tongue. He doesn’t know how long he’s breathless for before he exhales dizzily, “Yes, yes, fuck.“

Gerard moans against him, making him whimper loudly in return, and Frank wishes he could see him with his face buried between his legs and tongue deep in his ass, eating him out with shallow but determined thrusts that tug on his rim and have him chasing more and more. It’s like Gerard’s fucking made for this, making Frank writhe on the sheets with nothing more than his fingers holding his cheeks open and his mouth on his asshole. He pulls out and wriggles his tongue around, then rakes his teeth over his puffed up rim, and Frank almost punches the mattress.

“Fucking love you like this.” Gerard says, slapping his cheeks and spreading them to spit on his hole.

“Christ,” Frank whines. Saliva drips down his taint to his balls, and Gerard rubs it in with his index and middle fingers, spreading it around and making a wet mess, then his mouth’s on him again, tongue sliding in without meeting resistance. Frank’s moans sound more like sobs, and when Gerard flattens his tongue against him and wiggles his head quickly from side to side he can’t even hold himself up on his elbows anymore, just pushes his face into the mattress and his ass back onto Gerard’s face. 

“Gee,” he hiccups, reaching back to spread himself with his left hand and turning his face as much as he can to get a glimpse, anything. He only sees the top of Gerard’s head, his eyes closed and the tip of his nose pressed into his crack as Frank rocks back and forth, riding his tongue. He pats the mattress blindly with his other hand until he finds the bottle of lube and taps Gerard’s elbow with it, and when Gerard raises his head he looks fucking debauched, a glossy sheen of spit coating his face from the tip of his nose to his chin.

“Need a break?” he asks.

“No,” Frank pants out, swallowing the excess saliva pooled under his tongue. “Keep going, please—need more.“

Gerard wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins. “Be patient, you don’t wanna come yet, right?” he teases, bending forward to brush his lips on the back of Frank’s neck and thread his fingers in his hair. Frank shakes his head, lifting himself up weakly, and lets himself be kissed until he’s humming into it with Gerard’s hand on his throat. “I’m gonna fuck you with my tongue and fingers until you’re drooling on the sheets,” Gerard whispers, squeezing his neck lightly, and Frank strains against his hand, mouth slack. ”I know how much you love it, and I love it too, turns me on so fucking much to get you like this.” 

“Gerard,” Frank pleads. “Fuck me.”

Gerard chuckles, kissing his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you,” he says, then his hips are pressing flat against his ass, and Frank arches his back with a gasp, realizing he’s already half-hard again.

Clenching his fingers in the sheets, Frank grinds back against him, feeling Gerard’s cock slide between his cheeks and nudge his balls, but with a warning squeeze of his hips Gerard holds him in place and moves back to sit behind him on his heels. Frank grunts and lets his head fall back between his arms, spreading his thighs more as Gerard pets his waist and nips at his tailbone and the curve of his ass. He pulls his cheeks open and circles his thumbs around his hole, and Frank wiggles back towards his face as soon as his breath ghosts over his rim, surprised when Gerard spanks one of his cheeks.

“Do it again,” he asks, and gets two slaps in quick succession that Gerard digs his nails into after, making Frank suck in a shaky breath through his teeth. He giggles, half-delirious and loving the burn and the sting, imagining the bright red handprints on his skin—and if he wasn’t so on the brink he’d ask him to leave more. Then Gerard’s mouth is on him again, kissing his hole, sucking on the rim with wet noises and making him throw his head back with a long groan, and he can’t get enough of it, swaying his hips back and forth with abandon. 

Frank hears rustling and the faint click of the plastic cap of the lube bottle, and he flinches a bit when Gerard squirts a good amount directly on his hole. He is catching it with his fingers then and pushing one into him, coaxing a long sigh out of Frank. His eyes flutter, his dick twitches weakly, and Gerard got him so loose and relaxed with his tongue that the second finger slides in just as easily a few seconds later, starting to stretch him properly. 

“Fuck,” Frank whimpers when Gerard crooks his fingers and starts moving them, in to the last knuckle and pulling all the way back, stretching him in a way that makes his thighs tremble and his knees almost give out when he thrusts his tongue between his fingers and flicks it against and inside his open hole. Frank thrashes his head, hair sticking to his face and getting into his panting mouth, chest heaving with quick staccato breaths and a string of moans and Gerard’s.

Gerard hums and licks all around his rim and his fingers, adding a third that really starts to make the stretch burn. Frank bounces himself back onto them, and Gerard brushes his prostate on each fucking slam in, like he’s putting his whole arm into fucking him. 

“God,” Gerard rasps out, guiding Frank's hips back and forth with his free hand clutching his waist, “Frankie, look at you—riding my fingers so well.” 

Frank cries out at the praise and the way Gerard twists his wrist and crooks his fingers up against his prostate. There’s not a single thought left in his head except how close he is, nothing but the overwhelming pressure pooling in his groin. His eyes are squeezed shut and stinging with tears, and every part of his body feels wet: his face sticky with Gerard’s come, palms slipping on the sheets, back glistening with sweat, spit and lube dripping down the inside of his thighs and his balls, and oh—oh, fuck. Gerard is lapping at them now, nose pressed against his taint as he sucks them into his mouth, rolling his tongue around each, the fingers in his ass stretching him deep and wide, and Frank feels two seconds away from losing it, precome leaking on the sheets. 

“Wait,” he begs, reaching back to hold Gerard’s head back. “I’m gonna fucking come, I want your cock, please, please, wanna come on your cock—“

“Shit,” Gerard groans, butting his forehead against his upper thigh. “I’m not there yet.” He breathes hard against his skin and slowly takes his fingers out, and Frank whines, feeling his gaping hole flutter and clench around nothing. Slick sounds reach his ears and he realizes it’s Gerard jerking off, and he can’t help turning his head to watch, raising himself on one elbow to reach an arm back and put his fingers over Gerard’s on his cock. 

“C’mon, Gee,” he whispers, shuffling back up on his knees until his back is pressed to Gerard’s chest. Gerard’s free arm snakes around his torso, and then they’re kissing with too much tongue and teeth. Frank feels the movement of their hands stroking Gerard’s dick together against the small of his back, and he rubs his face against Gerard’s, panting in his mouth, “Fill me up, I wanna feel your come dripping out of me.” 

“Oh fuck,” Gerard says, and Frank grins smugly, feeling his dick grow hard in their hold. He brings Gerard’s other hand up from his chest to his mouth to suck on his fingers, bobbing his head around them. Then Frank pulls them out with a pop, holding Gerard’s eyes as he spreads his knees and guides them back to his ass, his own fingers pressing down on Gerard’s knuckles as he pushes them in with a breathy sigh. 

Gerard shudders. He looks wrecked, with sweat gathered on his brows and red splotches over his cheeks and neck, like he’s just as desperate to be inside him as Frank is to feel him. Frank fumbles for the lube and squeezes it in his hand, stroking it over Gerard’s dick and his hole, and when Gerard takes his fingers out and lines himself up Frank is glad he’s still got his arm around his chest holding him up, because when he feels the head of Gerard’s cock breaching him and pushing in, it takes everything in him not to collapse face-first on the sheets.

“Oh, yeah,” Frank sighs, throwing his head back against Gerard’s shoulder as he sinks himself down on his length until Gerard’s balls deep inside of him. “Fuck,” he whimpers, mouth quivering and thighs tensing.

The feeling of total fullness and the stretch are so good, and no matter how many times he’s felt it it’s like he has to get re-used to how big Gerard is every single time. Frank’s chest rises and falls quickly, his lips curve in a blissed out smile, and Gerard kisses his shoulder and the back of his neck, squeezing around his ribs and starting to move. Frank’s been on edge since he sucked Gerard off, and they both know he’s not gonna last. So it’s fast and dirty, their sweat mixing together where his back rubs against Gerard’s front, and the angle isn’t the deepest, Gerard can’t snap his hips as hard and fast as he’d like, but he keeps hitting his prostate dead on and Frank almost sobs.

“Feels so fucking good, Gee, oh god,” he babbles, and Gerard yanks his hair hard, making him rest his head the crook of his shoulder to suck on his neck. Frank feels strung so thin, ready to snap, flexing his thighs and bouncing himself down on Gerard’s cock to match his quick thrusts.

“You’re so easy,” Gerard murmurs, licking his jaw, breath washing over his damp skin. “You’re gonna come all over yourself the second I touch your cock, aren’t you?”

Frank nods frantically, clinging onto Gerard’s arm for leverage as his knees slip and his eyes swim in and out of focus, burning from the sweat dripping from his forehead. Gerard keeps fucking him hard and steady, and Frank feels his orgasm build up in blinding waves, ready to crest over when he drags Gerard’s hand up to his throat and tells him, “Do it, do it, please—“  

Gerard’s palm tightens around his throat. His thumb and forefinger squeeze right under Frank’s jaw, pressing in above his Adam’s apple, and Frank’s breath gets shorter and shorter, mouth hanging open as Gerard keeps pounding into him, then makes little circles with his hips flush against him, making Frank feel every inch of his cock deep inside of him. Dizzy and struggling for breath, Frank cranes his neck harder into Gerard’s hand. Tears slip from the corners of his eyes, and Frank sinks back against Gerard's chest with a broken groan when his other hand roams from his waist to his dick, leaking and flushed red.

Gerard slides his fingers around the head to gather the precome beading at the tip, and pumps him hard and fast, tight on the side of painful. Frank’s vaguely aware of the pathetic, little whimpers coming from him, and that Gerard’s mumbling into his ear, “So perfect, Frankie, so fucking good for me.” Then he’s pulling out almost all the way and thrusting back into him, once, twice, releasing the pressure around his throat at the same time, and Frank’s coming with a loud cry, clenching down tightly on Gerard’s cock.

Gerard strokes him through it, sucking in a breath as Frank’s come drips down on the sheets and all over his fingers, some of it hitting his own chest. Frank’s boneless and cross-eyed, trembling and panting in Gerard’s embrace and fucked out, fucked stupid, coming for what feels like ages.

It takes him a full minute to ride it out and realize Gerard’s still hard inside of him. Frank winces when the hand on his cock starts feeling like fucking sandpaper on his oversensitive skin, and Gerard lets go. He wipes his come-filled hand on Frank’s stomach and the top of his thighs, rubs it into his pubic hair—fucking gross, and exactly what Frank wanted. Turning his head for a kiss that’s barely more than breathing into each other’s mouths, Frank brings his shaky hand to Gerard’s face, stroking his cheekbone and unsticking the sweaty hair from his temple.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, Gee. Holy fuck.”

“I know,” Gerard pants, moaning softly when Frank involuntarily clenches around his dick as he slides out. And Frank gasps, remembering that this isn’t over and pressing a lopsided smile into Gerard’s cheek before dropping back down on his elbows and knees.

“Keep going.” Frank swallows, looking at Gerard over his shoulder. “Until you come.” 

Gerard gapes at him, chest heaving when he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Use me, I told you,” he insists, “c’mon, wanna feel you.”

Gerard doesn’t need more convincing, and Frank bites down a smile when he hears him mutter, “I’m so fucking crazy about you,” and kiss the back of his neck.

With a bit more lube and a slow slide in, Gerard’s back inside him, and now that Frank’s not so on the edge he can really let himself feel him and the stretch on his rim. It’s a lot, almost overwhelming, but Frank knows he can take it, wants to take it. It’s the whole fucking point. Gerard starts thrusting gingerly but soon picks up speed and confidence, grunting above him, and this is it—being spent and useless, letting Gerard slam into him after he’s come and he’s overstimulated and sensitive, whimpering on each thrust and grasping at the sheets—this is what Frank needed, how he needed it the most. 

Bent over on his knees, he pushes his face into the mattress and offers his arms crossed behind his back for Gerard to grab, so he can pull Frank back onto his cock and really pound into him fast and hard, balls slapping against the back of his thighs.

“Frankie,” Gerard whines, “I’m so fucking close, gonna—“

“Y-yeah,” Frank moans, and he almost laughs, feeling lightheaded. His legs hurt, his arms are like jelly and his ass feels like it’s on fucking fire, but then he feels it—Gerard losing rhythm, a drawn-out, raspy groan and the way he goes rigid and still, coming inside of him.

Frank gasps and clenches around him, feeling Gerard twitch weakly then pull out to finish on his back, spurting a few drops over the lines of his tattoos. He mewls, content, limp and fucked brainless, letting Gerard’s come drip between his thighs as he flops down and spreads out on the sheets, and Gerard follows him down, half-slouched on top of him and heaving for breath.

“Oh my fucking God,” Gerard pants, rolling onto his side, sounding hoarse and winded. “That was—fuck, I love you so much, Frankie.”

Frank giggles, turning to face him and tell him, “I love you too, so much I feel stupid,” and meaning every bit of it. The room reeks of sweat and sex, and he wrinkles his nose when he realizes he’s ended up lying right into the wet spot—kinda unavoidable, though, seeing as his entire body is the wet spot. “I don’t think I can move for at least two hours,” he says, and Gerard’s mouth cracks into a smile, his jaw littered with red marks and a bit of stubble. 

“You’re gonna make us shower in, like, five minutes max.”

“Nah.” Frank shrugs. “I told you I wanted it all over me. I wanna feel it,” he continues, looking at Gerard from under his lashes with an easy smile, and the wide-eyed stunned look on Gerard’s face before he drags him in for a sloppy kiss is priceless.

“You kinky fuck,” Gerard whispers on his lips, making Frank snort. Pot, kettle. He hooks his leg over Gerard’s hips, snuggling closer, skin to skin, and Gerard wraps an arm around his waist, the tip of his nose bumping his cheek. “Now we’re gonna be stuck together.”

“I’m fine with that.” Frank yawns. A nap sounds awesome right now. Then they're gonna shower, roll into the clean bed, and sleep until ten. But first, “Fuck, I need a smoke.”

“Don't think we can smoke in here." Gerard huffs, tracing his chest-piece absentmindedly with his eyes and fingertips. Then he looks up, and says, “But fuck it, I think we should abuse our rockstar privileges once in a while.”

Frank chuckles. “Yeah—sex this great deserves breaking rules.”

“Mindblowing sex,” Gerard corrects him. He brushes some hair off Frank’s face and grins crazily. “I can’t believe you made me come twice. I’m thirty, Frankie.”

Frank laughs, and laughs, and neither of them get up to fetch their packs of cigarettes, but eventually Gerard will, and Frank will drag him into the shower. But for now, curled up around each other on filthy sheets, this is as perfect as it fucking gets.