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Frank had clipped Ray on the shoulder as he and Gee headed for the elevator to take their shared hotel room. The movement had made Ray’s stomach slosh. A little “Mmp” had bubbled out of his tightly clenched jaw in tandem with the slosh. Gerard’s grip on Ray’s shoulders, leading him in his nauseated state, tightened. Frank’s eyes narrowed into a glare.
Ray didn’t know why Frank was being all pissy. He could handle not sharing a room with Gerard just this once. Mikey and Bob couldn’t be that bad of roommates.
The little temper tantrum he was throwing made Ray’s “Frank Has Been Getting Some From Gee” suspicions seem pretty damn founded. He was being so embarrassing. Frank could handle himself and his fist for tonight. Ray was nauseous as shit, and no one else had wanted to deal with it. Gee was taking one for the team.
The elevator doors opened.
“Here, get in with us, Frankie,” Gerard said, easy, as he guided Ray into the cramped space by the shoulders.
Frank turned his glare from Ray to Gerard. Well, Gerard’s general area. It was like Frank didn’t want to look Gerard in the eye. Gee’s foot was in the elevator door, dragging this on. Ray was trying his best to keep any embarrassing pained noises in. He felt like his insides were boiling and he didn’t need to be in the middle of whatever dominance battle sex shit Gee and Frank had going. He’d be pretty annoyed right then if all of his energy wasn’t currently focused on Don’t throw up Don’t throw up Don’t throw up.
It seemed that Gerard eventually won whatever battle of will was going on, because Frank stepped into the elevator eventually, arms crossed and face scrunched up into a scowl.
Ray thought they had all agreed that Frank would be rooming with Mikey and Bob, but he didn’t have the energy to question why Frank was coming with him and Gee. He just wanted to get off the elevator and to a fucking toilet.
Once they had safely made it to the hotel room, Gee fumbling with the keycard, mind seemingly distracted by who knows what, Ray clutching his stomach, Frank glaring, all three of them stepped inside.
Ray made an instant beeline for the bathroom.
The bathroom was small, most of the space was taken up by a shower, a sink, and a toilet. Standard hotel bathroom, with the standard hotel bathroom harsh lighting and prominent scent of bleach. None of this was helping Ray’s stomach. Ray got down on unsteady knees and hunched himself over the toilet. The change in elevation seemed to make the entire world spin. His stomach was still rolling with nausea.
In the other room, the one with the beds, Ray could hear Gee tell Frank something about him needing to go off and find Ray some ginger ale and crackers, to help with his stomach. He could also hear some kind of hushed argument following the request. An argument that Gee presumably won, given he was the only one to meet Ray in the bathroom after, Frank nowhere to be found.
Ray was really going through it. His breathing was coming out strained and quick. He kept spitting into the toilet as extra saliva gathered in his mouth. It made a gross plop as it hit the water, the sound making him gag. He was trying to hold back though. He kind of didn’t want to throw up in front of Gee. He honestly would really appreciate Gee leaving the bathroom, but didn’t have the energy to ask.
“Oh sugar, you poor, poor, thing,” Gee breathed out. Ray had always thought they were on more of “dude” terms than “sugar” terms, but he had bigger things to worry about. Namely the angry, unignorable unease in his stomach. “Come sit with me.”
Ray looked over at Gee. He was positioned a good couple feet away from the toilet, back against the wall, legs up. His expression kept twitching, like he was trying his best to appear as neutral as possible but couldn’t fully keep the expression together.
His legs were twitching too. They were open in this position, which was another indicator that Gee was… excited. He was putting his semi hard cock completely on display.
What.
Ray knew Gee had a little… fascination with vomit. He would stick his fingers down his throat on stage, he would try his best to incorporate puke scenes in his comics. He hadn’t ever considered the fascination went that deep, though.
Ray was glad he at least seemed a little embarrassed about it. His round face was blotchy with blush, his hands were fidgeting. A hand to tuck grease heavy hair behind an ear, a hand to worry at the cuff of his sweat pants.
“Gee, you’re so fucking odd, man,” Ray groaned, not moving from his hunched position over the side of the toilet.
“Rayyyyy…” Gee let out, breathy and half way to a moan. “Just come here.” His voice was strained. Needy. Whiny. Nothing like the way he had spoken to Frank earlier. Like Ray being about to lose his guts into the toilet was such a monumental thing for him that he was unable to maintain the persona.
His legs were still open. Maybe Ray was experiencing nausea-induced hallucinations but he swore he saw it twitch. It was also decently big. Not that Ray hadn’t noticed that before during a quick on bus change, or a too tight in the crotch jean kinda day.
Ray ultimately decided that the boner display was less about showing off Gee’s dick and more about ensuring Ray had a near zero chance of misinterpreting the situation. The boner meant Gee wanted Ray in on him and Frank’s weird vomit sex.
Ray was very sure he wasn’t attracted to Frank. Ray was 79% sure he wasn’t attracted to Gerard. And Ray maybe liked it when girls would pull his hair. That was as freaky as he had even gotten. He had certainly never considered throwing up for one.
Getting into whatever this was probably wasn’t the best idea. Ray’s head was light and his stomach was tight, and it had nothing to do with any sort of arousal.
However.
He supposed that him throwing up was inevitable… so why not let at least someone enjoy the ordeal? He also supposed there wasn’t a lot he wouldn’t do for Gerard Way at this point.
“How about you come to me,” Ray said, testing the waters of how much he was allowed to boss Gee around. It came out strained through clenched teeth though, he really needed to barf. He was beginning to rock in place, white knuckling the toilet seat. He felt gross. Not like anything worth the frantic, hungry looks Gee was giving him.
Gerard didn’t seem to have any intentions of scolding Ray for talking back. In fact, he seemed to have a pretty Get Near The Puking Person one track mind. So they were on a sort of common ground in that way. All Ray could think about was throwing up, all Gee could think about was watching. This made Ray feel better about the power imbalance. They both wanted something out of this situation. Some kind of release.
Gee began closing the distance via crawling. He was making a real show out of it, given he was probably four-five feet away, just across the bathroom from Ray and the toilet. Yet he made sure to drag the action out, strings of box dye black hair falling in front of his face, eyes blown open wide, eyebrows up. Those hazel eyes were trained on Ray. Ray had always considered Gee’s big glassy eyes to be doll-like, but at the moment they looked predatory.
Ray absently thought that Gee might have looked kind of stupid and kind of crazy to anyone else, but Ray felt himself squirm for a reason other than nausea. It almost bothered himself how easily he was falling into this freak shit. He loved Gee’s freak shit, loved it when he had the band dress up like vampires or drew Ray a series of comic panels predicting his death. He just never thought Gee’s weirdness would lead Ray to considering humping a toilet with half his brain power and praying he could hold back the contents of his stomach for just a little longer with the other half.
Gee made his way up behind Ray, and wrapped his body around him like a backpack. The sudden movement turned Ray’s stomach and snapped his mind away from Hump The Toilet and back to GottaPuke, GottaPuke.
Gee’s hands wormed their way up under Ray’s shirt, hugging him close. They were frigid, and Ray shivered from the contrast of temperature against his feverish skin. And from the fact that the hands had found themselves combing through his chest hair, circling a nipple.
The feeling of his nipple hardening in contrast with the turning of his stomach had Ray’s head spinning. His body was almost fighting arousal, there wasn’t space in his brain to be aroused. He needed to throw up.
Gee leaned himself back away from the toilet, bringing Ray, who was practically in Gee’s lap, with him.
“Gee, gee–“ Ray was becoming almost frantic, “No, you can’t– I gotta–“ he was cut off by another particularly nasty wave of nausea and the feeling of his jaw filling with far too much saliva. Gee had successfully pulled them just out of reach of the toilet. Ray really needed to spit the saliva collecting in his mouth out. The longer it collected, the longer it sloshed behind his teeth, the closer he got to reallyreally losing everything in his stomach.
“Shhhhhhhh, shhhh,” Gee’s face was in the crook of Ray’s neck now, nuzzling the skin there, scratchy from one day too many of not shaving. One of his hands had found its way from Ray’s nipples and down to settle over the swell of his stomach, resting there, flat palmed with his fingers spread wide. “Don’t throw up, you can’t yet, okay, sugar? You have to wait for me. Just hold on a little longer. Please.”
Ray still had to fucking spit. So he did.
He tried to aim for the toilet, for the floor away from him and Gee, but he was so frantic, so all-consumed by how sick he felt, he was barely able to spit properly. He ended up half drooling the contents of his mouth down the front of his shirt. The salvia felt disgustingly warm and slick spilling down his chin and neck.
“Don’t. Don't throw up,” Gee repeated. Ray was at the point where he didn’t think he had it in him to follow such a request though. He barely cared that he wouldn’t be able to make the toilet with Gee holding him like this, that he would end up covered in the vomit. He just needed whatever was inside him out.
The hand on Ray’s stomach kept rubbing circles, occasionally applying pressure, pressing down. It made Ray squirm.
“Your fucking stomach, it’s like it’s pulsing, like it has a heart beat. Whatever’s in you is fucking alive,” Gee said, words rushed and breathy as if this observation was the mosy pornagrpahic thing he could possibly think up.
Gee’s right hand, the one that wasn’t on Ray’s stomach, came up to rub at the rough skin around Ray’s neck, playing in the drool there, rubbing in circles and constricting occasionally. Not choking, just constricting. Gee’s hand was cold, and the temperature combined with the pressure was maddening. Ray could feel Gee’s breath coming fast behind him, panting into the side of his neck and tickling.
Ray swallowed, big and desperate. He couldn't see Gee's face, given he was still positioned behind him, but he could picture massive and predatory eyes widening at the movement of Ray’s throat under his hand, the bob of Ray’s Adam’s apple.
The same hand then trailed its way up away from Ray’s throat, settled its fingers over full lips.
“Open,” Gee commanded.
Ray whined.
In all honesty, he’d probably been doing a lot of whining during this whole ordeal that he hadn’t picked up on. Panting and making clenched, high little noises in the back of his throat. He was bad with nausea induced pain, always so loud about it. Ray understood Gee’s thing a little better for a moment then. The noises that kept bubbling out from him being close to puking weren’t all too different from the noises he’d make while close to something else.
“I said open,” Gee punctuated his statement by trying to dig his fingers in between Ray’s lips, but Ray’s jaw was locked. Somewhere far away from his body and his sickness, Ray noticed Gee rutting into his lower back. He was certainly close to that “something else” himself.
Ray didn’t want Gerard’s fingers in his mouth, he wanted to throw up. However, he also didn’t feel any need to fight Gerard or stop him from putting them there. He was at a point where he’d do anything that brought this all closer to an end, follow any instruction Gerard asked of him. He felt pliant and spinny, not attached to his body. His mouth was shut tight not in disobedience, but in a knowing fear that he wasn’t sure if he could keep anything down if he were to open his mouth. Eventually, and with much gagging, he was able to get his jaw to unclench to let Gee’s hand in.
“Good baby, good sugar, so, so, good,” Gee was babbling nonsense and it didn’t matter to Ray because there was now an intrusion in his mouth. The contents of his stomach were now practically begging to come up.
Gee’s fingers weren’t shoved down Ray’s throat to push him over the edge like Ray had assumed they would. No, they drug their way down over Ray’s tongue, almost petting it (Ray almost threw up here) the pointer and middle going to hook behind Ray’s teeth and hold his jaw open. (Ray almost threw up here again.)
Drool was spilling everywhere, and Ray could hear himself hyperventilating through his open mouth, breath ragged and wet.
“Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up,” Gee repeated, a mantra.
Gee’s other hand was pressing more insistently on Ray’s stomach now.
Gerard was rocking now too, hard cock digging into Ray’s tailbone. The hot pressure was overwhelming, and the constant movement was causing Ray’s insides to stir even more violently.
Ray heard his stomach make a particularly loud sound. Gee moaned high and frantic in his ear. It sounded gross, it sounded wrong. Ray didn’t want to be thinking about sex at all right now. Ray wanted to throw up.
Ray threw up.
He always forgot how much throwing up sucked until it happened again the next time. Like his brain was trying to protect him from the trauma of the process so he’d be able to live through it the next time it inevitably happened. He’d also never had to throw up with his jaw hinged open by his lead singer’s hand.
His entire body crumpled forward, desperate to be closer to the ground so the vomit would actually leave his mouth and not collect on his tongue and around Gee’s fingers.
It tasted sour in the worst way. Disgustingly familiar, too. He recalled the salt from a little baggie of vending machine pretzels he’d tried to keep down earlier. The thought was enough for round two of retching. Since when had Gee’s fingers left his mouth? Since when had Gee stopped holding him in place?
Ray was technically free to crawl to the toilet now, but he was past that point of logic. The only thing that mattered was getting rid of everything and anything inside him. He was on all fours, losing it to the hard tiled floor, slick with the drool from earlier and his sweat.
It felt like it would last forever, like he would never stop vomiting. He was being so loud it almost embarrassed him. Could people in neighboring rooms hear him? People on neighboring floors?
It finally ended.
The vomit itself was watery, given Ray hadn’t been able to bring himself to eat much after he had originally come down with whatever was ailing him. There was a lot of it though. It pooled out around him and seeped under the seams of his palms, which were planted firmly on the bathroom floor. He felt shaky and spent, but luckily no longer nauseous. For the time being. The view of his stomach contents spilled out around him, and the smell, might push him over the edge again soon.
Gee was back in his spot across the toilet, against the wall. He had went back there to enjoy the fucking show, Ray guessed. His sweat pants and briefs had been pulled down past his knees, his spent dick sitting sad and limp on pale, chubby thighs. His dick and hand were covered in cum, and… chunks of Ray’s vending machine pretzels and whatever else Ray had tried to keep down that day. God. Gee was looking at Ray with dazed, glassy eyes, covered in sweat. A satisfied smile tugged at his thin lips.
The bathroom door was open. Ray could have sworn it had been closed behind Gee earlier.
“You really freaked out there, man. Crying and shit. You got a vomit phobia or something? You’re a bitchy puker.”
Ray’s eyes slowly turned up to meet the source of the voice. There Frank stood, holding a bottle of something and saltines, as Gerard had asked him to go fetch.
How long had he been standing there?
Ray had been crying? He hadn’t realized such, but as he came back to himself, yeah, he felt the wetness of tear tracks on his cheeks.
Ray opened his mouth to ask Frank what the fuck a “bitchy” puker was, but it came out sounding so wrecked through his shredded vocal cords he decided to keep his mouth shut for the time being. His mouth still tasted sour and awful.
“Frank, come here. Come sit with me,” Gee said, his tone lightened from the post-orgasm euphoria, but still close to the scolding edge it held when he spoke to Frank during what was apparently vomit sex roleplay time.
Frank went back to doing the Glaring But Not Making Eye Contact thing from the elevator. “Naw, I think I’m fine standing,” he said.
“Come here.”
Frank set his groceries down and shuffled his feet the couple of steps over to Gee, looking like a kid who knew he was about to get a scolding for stealing from the cookie jar. He plopped down next to Gee in a huff.
Ray had gotten out of his kneeling position at that point, sitting up and trying to focus on not looking at his puddle of sick. He was also trying to not focus on whatever was going on between Frank and Gee, but it was becoming increasingly hard not to be nosy. And it wasn’t like there was much else to focus on in the small space.
“Open,” Gee said. Apparently a big part of having a sex dynamic with Gerard Way was him asking you to open your mouth so he could do something mean to you.
He held up his hand, the one covered in his own cum and Ray’s vomit. Displaying it not only to Frank, but to Ray, who was blatantly watching at this point.
Oh.
He wanted to put that in Frank’s–
Oh. Ew.
“Gee– no,” Frank had begun squirming in his place on the hard bathroom floor next to Gee. Yet he wasn’t going anywhere. It seemed Gee didn’t need to hold Frank down physically for him to stay put.
“You don’t say no to me, Frank. Right, Ray?”
Ray startled upon hearing his name said out loud. He managed to help Gee’s performance out with an eloquent “Uhhhh…”
“Fuck off, Gee,” Frank was really squirming now, really avoiding eye contact. Ray swore he could see a semi in his pants. It was kind of fascinating to see Frank getting excited like that while Gerard tried to put his… fluid slick hand in Frank’s mouth. Ray tried not to consider the specifics of what Gee and Frank did in their private time as often as possible, but when he let himself make assumptions it maybe involved some spanking or some handcuffs (Frank wasn’t very good at staying still,) never this. The entire display was admittedly a bit fascinating in its extremeness.
Gee grabbed Frank’s face by the chin with his less dirtied hand. Pulled him closer, Gee on his knees, Frank still sitting down. His thumb and pointer dug into Frank’s cheeks. Frank’s eyes looked big and scared. His pupils were blown.
“If I ignore how bratty you’re being right now,” Ray thought Frank was a bit of a brat in general, by definition, but the way Gee said it made it seem like the world held a different kind of weight in the context of the situation, “then you’re going to need to refer to me properly.”
This seemed to panic Frank more than the prospect of having to suck Gerard’s nasty hand clean.
“Dude, not right now. Not in front of Ray. Dude, no. I’m serious,” Frank was babbling now, his voice getting high and frantic. It was an extra pathetic display taking into account that he was speaking through squished cheeks.
“It’ll be worse later if you don’t drop the shit now, dude.”
Frank's eyes got impossibly big at that. Ray was almost impressed by how serious Frank’s expression was at that moment. Ray rarely saw Frank like that. What was Gerard doing to the poor guy behind closed doors? Branding him? Making him do the required reading for the classes he’d dropped back when he went to college?
“Sorry… I’m sorry…” An apology from Frank? Ray decided it was probably both a branding and required reading situation.
“Sorry, who?” Gerard’s hand had moved from Frank’s cheeks to pet at his back. Rubbing in soothing circles.
Frank looked about to cry. He looked like he was in pain, eyes shut tight, thin eyebrows drawn together, a steady blush rising to his cheeks.
“Sorry… Mommy…” Frank spit out.
Ray snorted. The sound was loud and drew attention he didn’t want in that moment onto him, but he couldn’t help it.
Ray liked to consider himself to not be a judgmental guy, to each their own. But he really couldn’t help himself. Fucking Mommy. Gee looked up to make eye contact with Ray. Smiled his small, crowded toothed smile. It made Ray feel a little special to think that Gee was torturing Frank partially for Ray’s amusement. This was really good revenge for years of stolen beer and stolen guitar picks.
Frank was crying for real now though, snotty and red-faced, to the point where Ray almost, almost felt bad for laughing. He was still obviously hard though, so Ray couldn’t feel that bad.
“Good job. Open for me now, sugar,” Gee said. Frank opened obediently, eyes screwed shut, tongue out. Gee leaned forward to lick a tear off Frank’s face. Frank shuddered at the action.
Still petting Frank in apology, Gee went to set his pointer and index, coated in drying, cooled cum and chunks of Ray’s sick, on Frank’s obediently waiting tongue. Frank lurched forward, gagging.
“No– no, no, no, Mommy. I can’t okay– I’m done now, I’m done. I’m being good now,” Frank sobbed.
“C’mon sugar, just clean my hand off for me. Here, I’ll even help you out,” Gee replied, and wiped a good half of the mess off onto Frank’s jeans, held his now slightly less dirty hand back up for Frank.
Frank, with a good amount of hesitation and tears, went back to lick the ick that had settled in the webs between Gerard’s fingers off. Pink tongue darting between the digits. Ray had to look away again. The room still smelled sour and rank, and the display from Frank and Gerard mixed with the smell had begun to turn his stomach once more.
As Ray looked away, he heard Frank throw up. He heard Gee tell Frank that he’d have to start again on his hand. Clean up the new mess.
“Fuck–“ Frank’s throat was now similarly as wrecked as Ray’s, “Okay, okay. Gee, red. Red. No more. God, please.”
Ray took his chances looking back at the two. Gee was now covered in a second person’s vomit. Much chunkier than Ray’s had been, given Frank had actually eaten that day. God. Ew.
Gee’s pants and boxers had been around the bottoms of his thighs during the entire ordeal, (how the hell was Gee half hard after such a short period of time,) and he wasted no time shimmying them back up on around his hips. He then got straight to work petting Frank’s back again, being careful not to get too far in his space given how disgusting they both were.
“What do you want me to do first?” Gee asked Frank, soft and kind, a completely different tone than the one he had just been using. Ray was admittedly feeling a bit pissy that he hadn’t been offered a bail out word like Frank had.
“Clean me up,” Frank croaked out, “Clean Ray up too. I can’t take the smell anymore, God.”
Gee replied with something about enjoying the smell. Ray was light years away from being surprised by anything that came out of Gerard’s mouth.
“Sorry, sorry. Yeah, okay, sugar. I’ve got you,” Gee looked over at Ray, eyes nervous and apologetic like he didn’t know how to approach him right then, “I’ve– I’ve got you both,” he said, “Let me go get some wet wipes.”
And with that, Gee stood up and left.
Ray thought there was no reason they couldn’t just get cleaned up in the shower, and Frank must have read his mind because he said, “He gets embarrassed sometimes. He knows it’s weird. He’s probably extra embarrassed because you’re here.”
Ray didn’t reply. The little hotel bathroom fell quiet. Ray was still excited at the prospect of getting clean. And, not to agree with Frank, but he was also excited at the prospect of no longer having to smell his own (and Frank’s) vomit.
“‘Mommy,’ huh?” Ray asked, breaking the silence and teasing as well as he could while covered in his own puke and drool.
Frank glared at him, having no trouble meeting his eyes. “I didn’t want you to see me like that. Gee thought it would be hot,” he said.
Ray put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to speak any more than he had to through his wrecked throat. Ray didn’t have the energy to point out that for however long Frank had been standing there with the groceries, he had seen Ray in a less than dignified condition, with far less prior discussion or planning.
“Guess he was right though,” Frank continued, “Guess it was pretty hot. Made me feel extra vulnerable and shit. I’m kind of used to being a mess in front of Gee. It was hot being a mess in front of you. Thanks.”
Ray didn’t know how to reply to that. He was itchy for Gerard to return with the wet wipes.
Frank shifted, grabbed the bottle and crackers he had set down earlier. He handed the bottle to Ray, kept the crackers for himself.
“Ginger tea,” Frank said as Ray inspected the bottle, “I know Gee told me to get ginger ale but… that sugary shit just makes it worse, plus it doesn’t even have real ginger in it. This’ll help your stomach more.”
“Thanks…” Ray said, not so sure how to feel about having been semi unwillingly drug into whatever this was.
“You’re welcome, man. Me and Gee usually– um– cuddle. After. You should really join. Gee’s cold as shit. You’re warmer.”
Ray nodded slowly, dumbly, unscrewing the lid of the ginger tea. It burned a little on the way down his raw throat. He guessed some cuddling between bandmates never hurt. He also guessed that with Frank’s shitty immune system, licking up Ray’s vomit wasn’t going to end well for him. He hadn’t been the one to put it in his mouth, but he still felt like he owed Frank at least a little after care.
Hopefully Mikey and Bob weren’t missing Frank too much. Ray was exhausted enough that he didn't think he would mind falling asleep curled up between Frank and Gee in a bed in the other room.