Archive of Our Own

As the buzz from the show starts wearing off, Frank is left with a feeling he can’t name. The closest word he can think of is emptiness, but it sounds so dramatic even Frank cringes on the inside. There’s nothing in particular to justify it either. The show they just played was good, because the audience was too; no one fucked up too badly or got injured. Hell, he even got time for a semi long shower after. In the bigger picture, Frank couldn’t ask for anything else. He has tons of amazing friends, a decent relationship with his parents and, more importantly, music is finally becoming something he can live off, just as he always wanted, and he made it before turning 21, which was his goal. It’s not a huge music deal what they have, but they’re about to record their first album and that’s enough to not regret dropping out of college or having to beg for his job back at Staples.

So, why does he feel like something is missing?

“Hey, dude, you okay?” Shaun, one of his bandmates,, asks. Frank wonders if his inner turmoil is too obvious before noticing that he’s been holding up the keys to the van without opening the doors while everyone else waits holding heavy instruments.

“Yeah, sorry. Got distracted.”

“He’s doing that thing where he moves so slowly pretending to help load the van, we end up doing all the work,” another one of his friends, Hambone, complains.

“No need for that, I’m already doing his part,” Mikey Way, who is not part of the band no matter how much he insists, says. The truth is Frank didn’t have much hope in Mikey when he volunteered to help with Tim’s drums, but he’s still standing there and hasn’t dropped anything yet.

“C’mon, dude, this shit is heavy!” Tim adds, finally getting Frank to unlock the back door and let them load the van.

The task quickly turns slow and tedious for Frank. He can’t stay connected to the present, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s tired and applying his technique to pretend he’s helping when he’s really not. Maybe that’s it, just a little burnout, he tells himself despite this not being the first time he’s feeling disconnected when he should be happy, jumping in place celebrating living the life he always wanted, chasing his dreams and all that.

Once the entire band –plus Mikey– is inside the van, Hambone, who’s driving, sensitively asks: “Are we dropping you off, MikeyWay?”

Considering Mikey is sitting between Frank and Shaun, it’s safe to assume they’ll be making that stop. “Dropping me off and hanging out,” Mikey offers. “My parents are out of town and you know they don’t check the liquor cabinet.”

Frank bites on his bottom lip, playing with the ring to hold back on accusing Mikey of once again trying to worm his way into the band. Look, it was hard to reject him because Mikey Way is one of the nicest people on earth, but the kid needs to practice playing bass a lot more.

Hambone searches for Frank’s eyes through the rearview mirror and Frank shrugs.

“Alright, all those in favor say Yay,” Hambone declares. Everyone says Yay, except Frank. “All those opposed say Nay,” Frank stays silent. “Motion approved. Next stop: The Way’s wicked mansion. Please keep all limbs inside the van at all times, you’ll need them to record on Monday.”

Well, who’s Frank to deny his band an earned night of fun? Perhaps sleeping a bit on the way will cheer him up. Frank folds his hoodie and sets it against the window to use as a pillow. He stares outside, feeling like the main character in a movie. Maybe things aren’t that bad, he thinks as he watches the stars and a bright full moon. Maybe all he needs is to spend some time with his people to repair his spirit, and if by any chance Mikey’s brother happens to be at home and Frank gets to talk to him about comics, or share a smoke, or fall asleep on his shoulder again, even better.

Wow. It’s suddenly hard to fall asleep.

***

“You’re so quiet tonight,” Shaun says in a low voice. They’re crossing from the garage to the Ways’ kitchen with Hambone, Tim and Mikey leading, laughing so hard Frank doesn’t think they’ll hear, but still understands Shaun mentioning it. Normally it would be Frank leading the party, loud and obnoxious, he’s not afraid to admit. The truth is Frank is trying to play it cool and it doesn’t seem like he’s doing a good job.

“I’m just kinda tired, you know?” he explains, going as far as to fake a long yawn. He doesn’t think an Oscar is on the way for his performance, but trusts it’ll be enough to not raise any more suspicion when he asks, as casually as possible, “do you think Gee stayed in tonight?”

Shaun smiles from ear to ear and doesn’t disclose what’s truly on his mind, but Frank feels his face heating up and looks away as if he was overly preoccupied by Mrs. Way’s creepy doll collection. As if he didn’t know them already by heart.

“Saturday night? Who knows.”

That’s true. Gee isn’t the party type, you can tell at first glance that he prefers being at home minding his own business; he’s told Frank multiple times that he doesn’t see the point in seeking entertainment outside when there are so many movies and shows to watch, especially when he usually ends up rewatching his favorites, so it’s impossible for him to ever be bored.

The only thing that makes him go out is his girlfriend. Of course he’ll be hanging out with her on a Saturday night.

Frank takes a deep breath, completely unaffected. That’s why he didn’t want to have high expectations, and also he doesn’t need Gerard to be there to have a good time. It will be another night of the same people telling the same stories, laughing at the same jokes, completing each other's sentences before they can get two words out because they practically spend every waking second with each other. It’ll be great. Predictable. More of the same.

Mikey takes them to the living room where the five of them move the coffee table to have space for the couch cushions and sit on the floor. Mikey gives them plastic cups because previous experiences taught them that using any other material ends up in searching for broken pieces with flashlights in the middle of the night and some casualties. A couple of bottles Mikey assumes his parents won’t miss are passed around too. That’s how they end up drinking mint liquor with Sprite. Sprint.

This is nice. Not the cocktail, but the company. Frank can still talk about comics with Shaun, share a smoke with Tim and fall asleep on Mikey’s shoulder. Or Hambone’s, it doesn’t matter, they both stink the same, and better than Gerard. Unless he’s washed his hair, because then he smells like berries besides armpit, and Frank can never tell if he finds it gross or appealing.

The point is he doesn’t need Gerard.

“So,” Frank says, interrupting a conversation he wasn’t paying attention to. “Is Gee around?” he asks, coughing for no reason. It’s a very casual question.

Mikey makes the same face as Shaun did before. They should mind their own business.

“He is,” Mikey nods slowly. It feels like there’s a but coming. Frank squints in his direction. Mikey stares back. Frank brings a hand up making the universal sign for please continue. Mikey tilts his head to the side like he has no idea what Frank wants.

“Is he joining us?” Frank blurts, a little louder than he should. He avoids his bandmates' looks because he knows he’ll either blush or get mad or both, but he can hear and feel them trying not to laugh.

“I don’t think so,” Mikey finally says. Of course, there’s still some information missing and Frank goes through the same motions as before, only for Mikey to tap on his chin with his index finger, looking up. “I wonder if it’s alright to say…”

“What?” Frank snaps.

Shaun pats Mikey on the shoulder. “C’mon, don’t torture him–” Frank gives Shaun a look that he hopes conveys that he’ll kill him, “–us. I mean us. We’re all equally dying to see Gerard. How is he?”

“Wallowing in the basement,” Mikey explains and because he’s not an asshole with Shaun, he adds, “broke up with his girlfriend like three days ago.”

Frank focuses all of his strength into controlling the muscles of his face to make sure he’s not smiling. In fact, he makes an effort to frown and sigh, a natural reaction when you hear your friend is going through something rough and you have no ulterior or selfish motives to hide. Only to make sure he’s communicating exactly that, he nods his head slowly and sighs again.

“Man, that’s too bad.”

His friends nod and offer other sympathies, Mikey shrugs and mumbles something along the lines of “that’s just how it is,” and they all hold a respectful silence, mourning. Frank waits what he thinks is appropriate before looking around expecting someone else to say what he’s dying to, but they all seem content with leaving it there.

In fact, Tim starts telling a story and Frank knows the moment is gone and he shouldn’t say what he’s about to. Sadly, he’s a weak, weak man.

“He should join us.”

“What?” Tim asks, disoriented. “Who?”

“Gerard,” Frank mumbles, just as tired of himself as the rest of the group must be.

“I don’t know,” Mikey says, taking his sweet time to give a reason by drinking in between. “I don’t think he’s at the hanging out with people stage yet.”

Understandable. Everyone seems to agree, satisfied even though they all like Gerard and would probably love it if he joined them, so Frank has no idea why he’s the only one trying to make it happen. Three days isn’t that long, maybe Gerard is still sad, hanging out alone in his basement going through everything that went wrong, if the girl broke up with him out of the blue.

Although there’s also the possibility of Gerard breaking up the relationship and not feeling that bad about it, right? Or the relationship could’ve been just dragging, making it a mutual relief for them to end it. There are so many scenarios, Frank can’t stop coming up with them, he needs to know exactly what happened, because Gerard has been in relationships ever since he met him about a year ago. He first was going out with a dude, and barely 4 or 5 days after that break up some girl showed up, and then the current ex. It’s like it’s impossible for him to be single.

“Besides,” Mikey continues, as if Frank hadn’t gone through thirty inner monologues in the three seconds he took to breathe. “He’s going to start looking for a rebound soon, so you should all be careful!” he says to the group, pointing with his index finger.

They all play along by pretending to be shaking and scared. Frank tries to follow but the word rebound is replaying in his head. It also feels like everyone is looking at Frank, waiting for him to either insist on calling Gerard or getting up immediately to go look for him in the basement, just walk up straight into his lair and offer a sympathetic hand to cheer him up, or any other holes available. As friends do.

“Yikes,” Frank hears himself say. “Guess it’s better to leave him alone.”

There’s an awkward silence. Frank can tell, he created this moment by playing dumb at an olympic level every time he gets too close to something happening.

Because even though Gerard has been someone else’s boyfriend this entire time, they’ve had a few moments where Frank seriously had to wonder if Gerard has a crush on him. Granted, he’s sort of a flirty guy who especially seems to enjoy making straight dudes uncomfortable, but it’s all of the time. Just silly things, like wolf whistling when Frank takes off his hoodie, or that time he was showing his new swallow tattoos on his hips and Gerard said he should take off his pants to give them a good look, or how he yells “awooga” and “take it all off!” whenever he’s watching the band play and Frank uses his t-shirt to dry off the sweat from his face. Frank always laughs it off because they’re obviously jokes, and because no matter the intention, well…

Frank is straight, as far as he knows, and he gets annoyed by anyone questioning it. It’s uncomfortable.

“Anyway,” Frank speaks again, putting an end to the awkwardness he brought upon himself. “Tim, you were saying?”

***

Even before everyone went their own drunken way to find horizontal surfaces on which to lie on and turned off the lights, Frank knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Mikey was kind enough to let him sleep in his room on the bottom bunk that used to belong to Gerard before the Way brothers reached puberty at the same time and decided they needed their own space. Curiously enough, it happened at the same time for the both of them; Mikey was premature and Gerard was a late bloomer. This is something they openly and soberly told Frank, totally unprompted too. They’re so fucking weird.

The planks under the top bed are filled with doodles and scribbles. Frank has been awake long enough to be able to read them in the dark: “Gerard was here”, “Mikey sucks”. Gerard is crossed out and replaced by “Chainsaw.” Frank chuckles, he can’t believe Gee tried to make that nickname happen at whatever age he was. There are drawings of vampires and bats too and, of course, some cats. Band logos. David Bowie’s name surrounded by hearts.

Gerard once said to Frank, also unprompted, that he always knew he was bisexual. Gerard never questioned it, he had only been waiting to learn how to tell everyone else. Frank envies that. He’s never been sure of anything other than music.

Frank doesn’t even have anything against being gay or bisexual or pansexual or just being infinitely curious about Gerard and never being attracted to other men in the course of his life, he just doesn’t know if he really is. He can’t tell if he would be, you know, capable. Yes, sure, Gerard is beautiful, Frank has eyes; he’s always seemed interesting to Frank and lately he wants to spend more and more time with Gee.Frank’s stomach swirls all around whenever he’s with him. It feels like a crush, Frank has had them before with other people, female presenting people, but what if it’s just friendship? What if Frank can’t… go all the way?

He turns around and squeezes the pillow in his arms because he doesn’t want to be thinking about this, doesn’t even know if Gerard likes him in that way at all, or if he’s just making those jokes because he can smell Frank’s fragile sexuality and wants to mock him. Gerard isn’t cruel like that, but he sometimes takes jokes too far.

Frank shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, wondering when was the last time Gerard slept there, in the same space Frank is occupying. What would it have been like, and has he ever brought a girl here? Or a guy?

Okay, this is getting creepy.

Another toss and turn and Frank opens his eyes again in the dark. He has no idea how Mikey is still asleep with how much Frank has been moving around under him, but it certainly means he won’t notice either when Frank gets up and steps out of the room, closing the door behind him. Well, everyone drank so much they wouldn’t wake up even if the house was on fire.

Frank only had one drink and then pretended to follow along, mainly because he was scared of getting drunk and doing exactly what he’s doing now, which is venturing down the stairs towards Gerard’s room.

Even if he isn’t drunk, he can pretend to be in case of anything stupid and humiliating happening, right?

***

The first sign of life from Gerard’s room is the soft light touching the last steps as Frank continues to go down. The second comes in the form of music, which doesn’t necessarily confirm Gerard is still awake, but it’s something.

Oh, wait. It’s not any music, it’s Interpol.

Frank stops on a step that just has to creak under his foot. If Gerard is truly depressed, maybe it isn’t the best idea to invade his space. Frank bites his bottom lip, playing with the ring while he wonders if turning back makes him a sensitive guy or a coward. This especially sucks because he loves Interpol.

“MikeyWay?” Gerard’s voice comes from the bedroom. Frank could still escape if it wasn’t for his own laugh. It’s so stupid that Gerard calls his brother by his full name.

Frank decides to continue forward and pops into Gerard’s room. “Sorry, it’s not MikeyWay.”

“Oh, Frankie!” Gerard beams, peeking his head from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around it. His cheeks are red and a couple of drops fall down his sideburns. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your handsome face at this late hour?”

What a dork, Frank thinks, and has to remember that he is too when he hears himself giggling in response. It’s the alcohol, of course. He didn’t drink much but Gerard doesn’t need to know. It’s also still funny to think that the first time they met when Mikey introduced them, Gerard barely looked at him and mumbled a stiff hello, and now he’s confident enough to greet Frank like this even though he clearly caught him coming out of the shower.

Gerard steps outside wearing a black hoodie and some ratty shorts that must be his pajamas. Frank does his best not to stare at any holes in them.

In two seconds, Gerard is in front of him raising his arms for a hug, and Frank can’t resist getting between them and holding him back. He actually smells good today.

“Everyone’s asleep but me,” Frank mumbles, rubbing his face on Gerard’s shoulder. “And you, it seems.”

Gerard steps back enough to stare at Frank’s face.

“Why can’t you sleep?”

“Too buzzed.”

“Hmm.” He makes an understanding sound and lets go of Frank’s shoulders, even though Frank could’ve stayed there for a few more seconds, feeling Gerard’s heat. “Good show?” Gerard asks, moving some pillows to set them against the wall and sit down. He pats the spot next to him, inviting Frank. “Sorry I missed it.”

“It was fine. Could’ve been better,” Frank replies, his heartbeat going faster at the thought of Gerard asking what was missing and Frank having to tell the truth: him. Every show is infinitely better when Gerard is there in the audience, and when he joins them later backstage and congratulates Frank, mentioning his favorite parts or just singing the lyrics without noticing because they get stuck in his head. Gerard’s voice is beautiful, Frank wishes he could convince him of actually using it.

“But, uh. Mikey said you… had your own thing going on?” he adds, sitting down next to Gerard.

Gerard frowns. “What thing?”

Panic runs through Frank’s veins. Was Mikey joking? Is Gerard still dating his girlfriend?

“A break up?”

“Oh!” Gerard nods a few times, it’s kind of funny. Also a huge relief. “Yeah, I didn’t feel like going out yet.”

“I get that,” Frank nods too. “You’re in the sad music stage.”

“No, no. I’m in the showering to symbolize a new beginning stage,” he points to his head and unwraps the towel, letting his wet dark locks free. “I’ve just been really into Interpol lately.”

Frank follows the path of a single drop going down Gerard’s neck and has to force himself to look up after the silence goes on for too long. “They’re good,” he offers, feeling dumb. There’s no need to tell Gerard the band he’s already listening to is good. “It had to be an intense break up to make you shower though,” he adds. Sometimes all you can do is be annoying.

Gerard rolls his eyes. “Ha fucking ha,” he says, bumping his shoulder and Frank laughs, a little more relaxed. “I don’t know, of course it was sad, break ups always are, unless you were dating a piece of shit, but I wasn’t. She was great, I’m gonna miss her for sure.”

“But?” Frank asks too quickly, triggered by the memory of how speaking to Mikey usually goes. It’s pretty similar with the Way brothers, always difficult to get specific information out of them, only Mikey barely talks and Gerard talks a lot without really saying anything. Same result at the end.

“But we didn’t click like that, you know?” Gerard continues. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be or maybe we waited too long to have sex and the expectations were too high and we just couldn’t meet them. You know how that is.”

The churn in Frank’s stomach isn’t only due to having to listen to Gerard talking about sleeping with someone else, that’s more common than Frank wishes and at this point, he already knows how to keep that ugly feeling inside. The issue right now is that there’s no one else participating in this conversation, no buffer. It’s just the two of them and when Gerard says you know, he means Frank is supposed to know, and he actually doesn’t.

This is a weight Frank has been carrying around for a while and he normally manages to change the subject or straight up lie, because it’s no one’s business but his, but now he realizes he doesn’t feel like doing any of that. If there is one person in the world he wants to open up to, is the one sitting next to him.

“I don’t though,” he says, keeping his gaze on his lap.

“Oh, fuck you,” Gerard complains. “Mr. Frankie Iero, so fucking hot he’s never had chemistry issues with anyone he fucks.”

The part where Gerard called him hot softens a bit of the blow. Frank chuckles quietly even though he doesn’t think the conversation will stay this easy.

“I’ve never fucked anybody.”

There’s a pause where Frank can only listen to his own heartbeat in his ears and Gerard’s music in the background. Oh, it changed to The Smiths. Is he really not sad? Perhaps Frank should swiftly change the subject and just let him rant away, this doesn’t have to be a full declaration like Frank had in mind.

“But anyway—”

“Wait, no,” Gerard stops Frank with a hand on his shoulder, turning to get in front of him and stare into his eyes. “Sorry, I’m trying to determine if you’re fucking with me without being insensitive in case you’re not.”

There’s the way out, Frank could laugh it off, say it’s a joke and continue with his life as it has been so far.

“I’m a virgin,” Frank is the one rolling his eyes this time. “That clear enough for you?”

It isn’t fair to take it out on Gerard, it isn’t his fault Frank is still a virgin, depending on how you look at it, but it’s also annoying to have to even use that word to describe it. It’s making him feel like the freak he always knew he was, and Gerard being so surprised isn’t helping at all, only confirming it.

“Oh,” he frowns, trying to understand. “That’s okay though, you’re young,” you can tell he’s trying to be cool about it. “Well, you don’t ever have to do it if you don’t want to, your age doesn’t really matter.”

It’s like Frank can see the cogs turning in Gerard’s brain seeking words to console him and probably fighting off his own preconceived notions around virginity implanted by a patriarchal society he’s only becoming aware of now.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Frank explains even though he didn’t decide to. “It’s… complicated.”

Chatting with Gerard has always been a delight, something Frank adores to do, but has to admit it usually consists of about 70% of Gerard talking while Frank lovingly stares at him and giggles after every sentence, and 30% give or take of the roles in reverse. Gerard is now paying so much attention to him it feels odd. Worst of all, it’s good odd. Gerard is looking at Frank as if there isn’t anything more interesting than him in the entire world, as if there was no other place Gerard would rather be at right now, no other person he would like to know more of.

Frank shouldn’t be enjoying it this much.

“Complicated how?” Gerard asks. He doesn’t even try to add if you wanna talk about it or you don’t owe me any explanations; he’s clearly dying to know. Frank can’t contain his grin, but tries to look away, grabbing the hand Gerard still has on his shoulder to move it.

“What’s so interesting about it?” he asks back. Gerard turns his hand around to take Frank’s, squeezing it lightly as he bites on his bottom lip. It’s hard to tell if Gerard is feeling guilty or if he has no remorse whatsoever.

He ends up with nothing decent to say as he smiles and shrugs.

“I just wanna know,” he blurts out. “I’m nosy, so what?”

Frank pulls on Gerard’s hand and arm, bringing him closer. “Oh, so it’s for gossip? That’s what it is?”

Gerard laughs as he fights to get his hand back, and their faces are so close Frank feels it on his lips.

“I’d never gossip about you,” Gerard declares, pretending to be so hurt he places his free hand right on his own heart. He then turns it around and stares at his nails. “Unless you don’t tell me the reason and I have to ask around to find out…”

It’s an empty threat, Frank doesn’t believe for a second Gerard is capable of doing something like that, but the truth is if the roles were reversed, Frank definitely would.

“Well, it won’t work,” he says, feeling oddly smug on a topic that’s so sensitive for him. “No one else knows.”

Frank changes positions by folding his legs up and setting his feet on the bed, only because he’s uncomfortable being watched so intensely by Gerard. He doesn’t know if the new position is better or worse when Gerard crosses his arms on top of Frank’s knees and stares again as if he’s a brand new toy. Or a snack. Frank can’t even read him anymore.

“I have to say I’m pretty flattered that you trust me so much,” Gerard smiles. It’s cute that he isn’t pushing it further, and obviously reverse psychology works on Frank because all he wants to do now is continue spilling his guts.

“One of my classmates got pregnant when we were in the 8th grade,” Frank blurts out, looking up to avoid Gerard’s eyes. “You know I went to Catholic school, right? Everybody knew she had to drop out because of course her family made her go through with the pregnancy and the guy who knocked her up just went on as if nothing happened, but whatever. We were lectured so hard by every single teacher no matter what subject we were supposed to be learning, it was always about abstinence and how your body is a temple and sex is a sin and you’re basically sinning all the time even if you don’t want to just by having impure thoughts.”

Once he starts, everything continues pouring out, as if all Frank had been waiting for is someone to ask and care, offer him a judgement free space to let go. In fact, he sneaks a glance down to see Gerard’s face and finds so much understanding it’s easy to go on. “So I was terrified of doing that to someone.” That’s something he’s only realizing now. “I had a couple of girlfriends, but I could never… I couldn’t risk it, you know? Like condoms were supposedly satanic and also not 100% effective, and at some point I started fearing my own fear, like what if I make this huge deal about waiting and then I’m not even able to perform? What if the priests and nuns at my school succeeded in terrorizing the lust out of my dick?”

Gerard blinks slowly, keeping his eyes huge. You can tell there are a thousand things he wants to say in the way he opens his mouth and barely makes a sound before stopping because another idea cuts him off. He takes a deep breath and squeezes Frank’s knee under his hand.

“That’s… a lot, and completely understandable,” he chooses to say. “Fucking traumatizing, dude, no wonder you wouldn’t want to ever touch a girlfriend.”

“Oh, I still touched them,” Frank grins and bites on his lip ring. “They made me an expert in other areas that don’t involve penis in vagina action,” he explains, wiggling his eyebrows.

Gerard gets up from his spot to shove Frank’s shoulders, making him sink on the pillow behind his back. “You’re not a virgin then,” he states. “That’s sex too, Frankie.”

Partially true, partially way more embarrassing.

“They didn’t touch me,” Frank clarifies. “I wouldn’t let them anywhere near my pants.”

This isn’t going in any way Frank could have predicted. More than awkwardness or embarrassment, or the comfort of confiding in a friend, or anything else that could result from finally telling someone all of the honest details of what his sex life has been so far, it truly feels like he’s just flirting with Gerard. As if he wanted to warn him what he’d be getting into if he decides to take that step, and somehow enticing him in the process, if the dark and intense look Gerard is giving him means what Frank thinks it means. It probably does, given it’s followed by the tip of Gerard’s tongue suddenly peeking out to wet his lips, causing Frank to openly stare at Gerard’s mouth.

“So…” Gerard brings his arms again to Frank’s knees, resting his chin on them. “No one’s ever touched your junk? At all?”

Frank shakes his head. The worst part is that his dick knows they’re talking about it; good thing Frank’s thighs are pushed together and Gerard has no way to see what’s going on in that area.

“But you did stuff for your girlfriends,” he repeats, so Frank nods. “You’d make them come and then what? They didn’t return the favor?”

“They did offer!” Frank of course wants to defend them. Gerard laughs softly. “I don’t know, man, I was terrified of getting spunk anywhere near them, like Catholic sex education is just ‘don’t fucking do it, don’t you fucking dare’, so I didn’t exactly know if I got something on their clothes or hands it’d end up making a baby.”

Frank cringes inside for a moment, fearing he ruined the moment with his former teenager self stupidity, but the truth is Gerard seems more endeared than anything else.

Gerard tilts his head until it touches one of his arms, letting the other one free so his hand can wander on Frank’s knee, his index and middle finger mimicking steps as if it was a little person walking.

“What about guys though?” he casually asks. “No risk of teenage pregnancy, mostly.”

“That was even more satanic than premarital sex,” Frank replies, feeling the hairs on his skin raise as Gerard’s fingers get to the rips in his jeans.

“Well, as someone who has partaken in those satanic rituals, I can tell you my soul is intact. My ass is another story.”

Gerard adds a chuckle at the end of the sentence and keeps a smile on his lips that Frank interprets as an offering; it can be a joke if Frank wants it to be a joke. Franks swallows the sudden excess of saliva in his mouth and fidgets by chewing on his lip ring. Gerard has to be coming onto him, he can’t be giving Frank these mental images without intending to make them an invitation, it can’t only be curiosity for his ex catholic punk virgin ass.

The thing is, will Frank dare to take the bait? Knowing Gerard, he wouldn’t be mad if Frank changed his mind midway and decided he’d like to stay as a closeted self-hating bisexual. It’s actually Frank who doesn’t want to be the person who starts things and doesn’t finish them. He’s never been that person.

Perhaps he just wants to know one last thing. He brings his gaze up decidedly to settle it right on Gerard’s eyes, keeping his voice low, “is it good?”

Gerard’s smile turns into a grin. “Depends on who you’re doing it with.”

Pick-up line or whatever, it turns out to be exactly what Frank needed to hear for everything to click in place. He doesn’t have a definitive response to what his sexuality is, and it doesn't matter. What matters is that he’s sexually interested in Gerard and he has to explore that or it’ll be bad for his health. Dr Dick said so.

The fact that he only has to move a few inches to reach Gerard’s lips gives Frank all the confidence he needs, Gerard was clearly waiting for him to take a step. Instead of looking surprised or taking a few seconds to get on with the program, Gerard tilts his head and the first touch of their lips is perfect. No noses crashing or hesitant moves. Gerard opens his mouth and Frank takes the invitation, pushing his tongue inside to find Gerard’s, and it feels so good he can hear himself moan, which would be pretty embarrassing if Gerard didn’t answer with a groan. Frank places his hand on the back of Gerard’s neck and digs his fingers on Gerard’s still wet hair.

Gerard’s hand is on Frank’s jaw, caressing the skin there, trailing the neck of his t-shirt as he moves down and raises all of the hairs in Frank’s body. He’s impossibly hard, and has no idea if doing something about it is on the table, but when Gerard’s hand keeps wandering down, Frank gets the feeling he’ll die if Gerard doesn’t touch him.

Sadly, he stops right at the edge of his jeans, his hand uncertain. Frank has always worn shirts too small for him, so Gerard’s fingers are directly grazing his skin, and getting one of his fingers under the waistband is truly easy.

“Can I–” Gerard asks after pulling back the tiniest bit, still so close to Frank he can feel Gerard’s breath on his wet lips. Frank doesn’t let him finish though, he bites on Gerard’s bottom lip and kisses him once more, grabbing Gerard’s hand to decidedly bring it lower and put it between his legs. Gerard groans again, grateful, and Frank feels his dick twitching under Gerard’s fingers as he traces the shape over the jeans. If he continues, Frank is sure the wetness he’s starting to feel on his underwear will seep through.

“You’re so hard,” Gerard manages to escape the kiss, as if he couldn’t resist narrating the situation.

Gerard squeezes before taking his hand back and sitting down on the bed next to Frank. His gaze starts on Frank’s eyes, then moves down to his lips and ends up on his crotch.

“Yes,” Frank says. “Whatever you want to do, the answer is yes.”

Gerard chews on his bottom lip and smiles, only one side of mouth curling up. Frank fucking loves when he does that. “Whip it out then,” he commands. “Let me be the first to see it.”

Motherfucker, that should be funny as hell. In fact, it kind of is, but Frank’s nervous chuckle has nothing to do with humor. He’s suddenly anxious because he just thought of this being an elaborate prank and Gerard laughing at Frank as soon as his pants are down and his junk on display. That would be much worse than a prank with his pants on.

The fear leaves Frank’s body as quickly as it arrived when he sneaks a peek towards Gerard’s shorts and finds not only a huge tent, but also his nuts spilling on the side. He should know by now that he can’t spread his legs like that in those. And well, if Frank had any doubts left on being able to be with another guy, particularly Gerard, then his mouth watering at the sight should settle it.

Frank doesn’t even have a witty comeback to lighten the mood as his hands eagerly undo the buckle on his pink belt, taking care of the button just as quickly, but being careful dragging the zipper down because the last thing we want tonight are dick related injuries. He’s wearing dark boxers, but isn’t sure if it helps hide the precum stain at all.

Gerard’s gaze is fixed between Frank’s thighs, causing Frank to feel that wave of heat cruising through his body again. Fuck, this may be a thing for him. First time getting someone to pay attention to his cock and it’s already turning into a fetish.

Frank hooks his thumbs under the elastic on his boxers and stretches it, just as excited to show as Gerard is to watch. Frank’s dick is pretty nice, it’s a shame he has never shown it to anyone else.

Gerard’s fingers are there to wrap around his boner as soon as Frank releases it. He doesn’t give Frank even a second to breathe, stroking up and down, his thumb pressing on the tip. All Frank can do is throw his head back, against the wall. It feels nothing like touching himself, it’s infinitely better because Gerard obviously knows what he’s doing and because he has his lips on Frank’s neck, kissing and biting softly, moving up to Frank’s ear.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers, sounding so intense. “Frank, you have no idea.”

Frank sort of has an idea and it’s getting him so wet Gerard’s fingers slide embarrassingly easy as he hardens his grip.

“T-tell me,” Frank manages to say, despite all of his brain power being used to stop himself from shoving his hips up to fuck Gerard’s fist. It’s not working too well.

“It’s like I wanna suck you off so bad,” Gerard talks louder now, letting go of Frank’s dick only to bring his fingers lower, leaving a wet trail down to Frank’s balls before squeezing them lightly. Frank thrust his hips up again and bumps his dick on Gerard’s forearm. That feels good too. “But I also want to see your face up close when you come.”

Frank opens his eyes and realizes Gerard is still watching him as intensely, maybe even more than before. He tries to keep up with his gaze and immediately fails as Gerard wraps his fingers around Frank’s dick once more and gives it a couple more strokes. The motion isn’t fast, he can tell Gerard wants to make it last. A difficult task considering how fucking dirty he’s talking, but Frank is committed to doing his best. Not only does he want to please Gerard, but also, how embarrassing would it be to finish so soon?

“What do you want?” he asks. “You wanna come in my mouth?”

“A-ah shit! Fuck!” Frank eloquently replies as his stupid dick explodes resulting in jizz all over Gerard’s hand, arm and fucking hoodie. It’s as if the orgasm is forcibly drawn out of him and there’s nothing Frank can do about it but feel it through his entire body as his toes curl and his back arches, so fucking good he can only see white for a few seconds and his ears are ringing. What the absolute fuck.

When he finally remembers his own name, he sees Gerard sitting on the bed, the same hand that was touching him now inside his shorts, grabbing something that looks considerably larger.

“I knew you wouldn’t last long, but that was fucking amazing Frankie,” he says all breathy, his hand still moving up and down under the fabric. It’s mesmerizing. “I barely touched you, and you just–fuck”, he ends the sentence with a moan.

Frank should be embarrassed, there’s some part of him experiencing it, but more than shame he feels the urge of participating in what Gerard is doing, even if it doesn’t seem like he needs help. It’s incredible how much and how little those shorts cover.

“You know, you’re always flashing me your nuts in those short shorts,” Frank says, pretty proud of how his voice comes out mostly normal.

Gerard grins, not a single ounce of bashfulness to be found.

“Like you don’t love the sight.”

You know what? Touche. Flash me your balls once, shame on you. Flash me your balls twice, shame on me because I was actually looking for them.

Frank kicks his jeans and underwear down, letting them get lost in the infinite void that Gerard’s bedroom floor is, because there’s no point in decorum. Gerard has already seen everything there is to see and it must be pretty uninteresting to watch his floppy and spent dick, though Gerard still side-eyes it when Frank gets on his knees again in front of him. Frank brings his hands to grab Gerard’s shorts from the lower end and fulfill his fantasy of just pulling them down Gerard’s thighs, not stopping until they’re joining Frank’s clothes on the ground.

Gerard’s hand is covering most of his dick, but Frank can see the head coming out of his fist, shiny and red, and something white between Gerard’s fingers that makes Frank feel lightheaded when he realizes it’s his own cum. Gerard also parts his legs, letting him see anything he wants to, which causes Frank’s mouth to water once more. He decides to accept the invitation and get between Gerard’s thighs, placing a hand on top of his to join in the strokes, but quickly pushing Gerard’s hand aside so Frank can take over.

Gerard licks the palm he just had on his cock. Frank does the same with his own after his mouth fills with spit, because the wetter the better. He may have been relatively virgin when he stepped into his room, but that doesn’t mean Frank isn’t a masturbatory ninja. In fact, it justifies it.

Gerard’s dick feels hot and pulsing as Frank wraps his fingers around it. Gerard bites his bottom lip and stares into Frank’s eyes, making him feel self-conscious, whatever confidence he had just a few seconds ago going out the window realizing that it’s actually different from masturbating; the angle is all wrong and the pressure of satisfying Gerard turns into hesitant, tentative motions that can’t feel too good.

“I may suck at this,” he warns, trying to laugh. There’s nothing funny about it.

Gerard doesn’t seem too worried, smirking. “You can suck if you want,” he offers, wiggling his eyebrows. Frank has no idea why he finds it so hot.

Oh, maybe because he’s been dying to get it in his mouth.

“Wow, thanks, you’re so generous.”

Frank lowers his head, partly grateful to break eye contact, but mostly just fascinated by being there. Gerard smells uncharacteristically nice, something Frank shouldn’t get used to in case this ever happens again. It’s truly a special occasion. Frank darts his tongue out and licks Gerard’s shaft from bottom to top, figuring he can’t go wrong, although he can taste himself there. It should be gross, but it heats his body up so quickly he feels disoriented. Frank also hopes he won’t get another boner so soon, it’d be embarrassing. Fellas, is it gay to have a second boner while sucking off your gay crush?

Once he reaches the tip, he tastes something different, what he assumes is Gerard, and he thinks of closing his mouth around it, sucking lightly, gathering more of that taste. Gerard doesn’t hold back on letting him know it’s doing it for him by moaning loudly, which turns into an urgent need for Frank to keep getting confirmation that he’s doing a good job. He’s never done this before nor had the fortune of receiving one despite Gerard offering it a few minutes ago only for Frank to blow his load way too soon to cash it in, but he’s watched porn and has a general understanding of how it’s supposed to go.

Frank opens his mouth as wide as he can and ducks his head, letting Gerard’s dick push inside. He tries to remind himself that Gerard is big and even if Frank knew exactly what he was doing, it’d still be somewhat difficult. When he thinks he’s gone as far as he can, Frank wraps his fingers around the shaft and notices his lips are barely under the head, there’s way more dick outside than inside of his mouth. How do people do this? Eating girls out is so much easier.

He suddenly feels Gerard’s hand on the side of his head, not pushing or trying to get his attention, only petting his hair softly. Frank shuts his eyes, preparing to hear Gerard saying he doesn’t need to push himself or do anything he doesn’t want to, but it doesn’t happen. All Frank can hear is Gerard’s erratic breathing. He pictures Gerard’s chest going up and down, his stare fixated on Frank giving his first blowjob. Frank moves his tongue and massages what he can reach— the underside of Gerard’s cock, getting more approving and beautiful throaty noises from him. Maybe Gerard knows Frank well enough to know he’s not someone who does things out of obligation.

The weight and girth of Gerard’s dick in his mouth starts to feel oddly good, as much as feeling him throbbing under Frank’s fingers stroking what he can’t fit in his mouth. When Gerard was touching him, it felt like nothing else existed but Gerard’s hand on his crotch, it was all Frank could think about, all of his body focused solely on his dick. The thought of Gerard feeling something similar, completely focused on what Frank is doing, is turning Frank on again just like that. It’s stupid, surely something he shouldn’t be thinking of right now, but having Gerard’s undivided attention is what Frank has always been seeking. Fuck sharing Gerard with other people because they’re hanging out in a group, fuck being interrupted when Frank manages to take Gerard elsewhere to be alone, and particularly fuck the ever wondering if Gerard’s thinking of him at all when he’s not around. Gerard is thinking about him now.

Frank believes he prepared himself well enough to take Gerard deeper, assuming he’ll feel something like when he’s brushing his tongue and goes too far, but he quickly learns the difference by pushing further and feeling Gerard’s cockhead –way bigger than a toothbrush– entering his throat, which instantly makes him gag. It’s a miracle that he manages to not fully close his mouth and sink his teeth in while pulling Gerard out as fast as possible. Gerard still hisses a bit in pain and Frank wonders if puking on him would have been a better option.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asks, still holding Gerard’s dick in his hand, looking around in case he can see any bite marks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gerard says immediately, caressing Frank’s hair to calm him down. “Just a graze.”

Frank ducks his head because that shit was embarrassing, and this is strike two. Gerard is seriously a saint, how has he not kicked Frank out of his room yet? The answer in Frank’s head is loud but he does his best not to hear that perhaps Gerard actually likes him and the hookup isn’t happening only out of curiosity, or pity. Certainly on Frank’s end his curiosity on whether he could handle men’s equipment has been settled. He could use a bit more experience for sure, but the thing is that it doesn’t put him off, it’s pretty much the other way around. He’s well down there nuzzling Gerard’s balls with his nose and then getting his lips on them when the realization hits him.

He needs this to go well. No matter how patient and kind Gerard is, and putting aside the fact that he’s too sweet to let things get weird between them if the hooking up doesn’t work, it isn’t what Frank wants. He wants to blow his mind if he can’t blow his dick. He craves for Gerard to keep thinking about him for days. Frank needs a fucking win and he has a good idea on how to get it. He just has to play to his skills.

Frank separates Gerard’s thighs some more and holds his balls on one hand to get them out of the way, licking down; if Gerard’s shudders are anything to go by, then Frank is right where he should be. He hooks one of Gerard’s legs over his shoulder and just goes for it, licking over his asshole.

“Holy fuck, Frankie,” Gerard moans and it’s music to Frank’s ears, exactly what he needed to hear.

This is way more familiar than trying to get anything inside his mouth. He’s not giving up on sucking dick, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and if Gerard’s willing to donate his body to science, Frank would happily practice as much as he can, but having a hole to lick and stick his tongue in is well known territory for Frank, even with the obvious differences. The only slickness down here comes from Frank’s spit, though it’s so much it almost feels like it’s coming from Gerard, Frank really can’t stop salivating from how much he wants to put his mouth on every single inch of Gerard’s skin. The other big difference is that this hole feels tighter, Frank can’t just thrust his tongue in, so he licks harder, intensely, trying to get the tip of his tongue inside on each lick. He feels so proud when Gerard starts loosening up. Frank spreads Gerard’s cheeks to get his lips in there, sucking at the rim, getting his tongue in as deep as possible, and feels Gerard’s thighs trembling around him. He’s also thrusting his hips against Frank’s face, whimpering and moaning as if he had an audience of more than one person who’s close enough to hear him well. Frank can’t complain though, it’s so good to hear Gerard enjoying himself like that. Frank’s own body is heating up enough for his t-shirt to cling to his back from sweat.

Frank tries to pull back and Gerard’s leg is right there on his shoulder to stop him, his heel digging on Frank’s back, which makes Frank chuckle.

“C’mon, don’t fucking stop now,” Gerard whines. Frank raises his head enough to watch Gerard’s pose; his arms over his head grabbing onto the headboard, his dick so fucking flushed and hard resting on his belly, where his pubes are sticky with precum. Beautiful.

“I’m not!” Frank shoots back, unhooking Gerard’s leg to be able to take his shirt off and throw it into the void. “What kind of a jerk do you think I am?”

Gerard is chewing on his lip, glancing all of Frank’s bare skin, stopping on some of the tattoos. When his gaze finds Frank’s, Gerard whistles like he’s always done to embarrass Frank, only this time Frank laughs again.

“Alright, how about you let me see you too?” Frank says. Even though Gerard’s hoodie is all crumpled up exposing his belly, he’s not fully naked yet.

Instead of going for the obvious, Gerard lifts his legs and holds them up from behind his knees, giving Frank an excellent view. Even though it wasn’t exactly what he asked for, Frank has no complaints. In fact, the heat hits him so hard watching Gerard’s glistening asshole, he feels lightheaded. All he can do about it is go back in there and pray the pathetic whimper that left his mouth wasn’t too loud.

Since the access is easier this time, Frank licks a stripe along Gerard’s crack until he reaches his balls. He really needs to stop pretending he doesn’t love to see them peeking out from Gerard’s pants, he’s clearly obsessed with his nutsack. Frank stops for a moment before going down to where Gerard was finally enjoying Frank’s skill, and puts his tongue back into work. There isn’t much light in the basement, only coming from a few lamps scattered around because Gerard is a creature of darkness, but it’s enough for Frank to see and also feel in his tongue how Gerard’s hole is relaxing. Seeing it more open makes Frank feel incredible. He did that.

His tongue slips inside easily and he thinks of testing just how loose Gerard is with his finger, pushing it in while his tongue traces the rim. Gerard’s body offers no resistance, so Frank takes it out and touches his asshole with two fingertips.

“Fuck yeah,” Gerard approves, pushing his hips towards Frank’s fingers. It takes a bit more effort to get two fingers in, but it’s not impossible and this is still known territory for Frank, the art of fingering. It’s less wet than what he’s used to so he licks his fingers when pulling out, and thrusts deeper, getting Gerard’s breathing all crazy again.

“Crook your fingers a little,” he asks, panting, and Frank tries just that, moving slowly because it’s a sensitive zone and even though he does pretty much the opposite for everything else in his life, he knows it’s safer to go softly in these cases and let the other person ask for it to be harder. “That’s it,” Gerard takes a deep breath and grinds his hips down to help Frank find the spot he’s looking for. Frank can immediately tell when he’s there; Gerard's thighs shiver and he clenches a little.

“There, oh my god, there!”, he also provides.

Frank thinks he can feel a different texture or something like a bump that must be the prostate everyone talks about. No idea how it feels to have it rubbed though. Well, watching how Gerard’s arches his back every time Frank’s fingers go back inside and hearing his pleased moans louder than before, it must be good. Gerard’s walls are hot and it’s still a tight fit, even if Frank pulls his fingers in and out without too much friction. He can’t help licking around, biting on the inside of Gerard’s thighs. He could stay there all night.

Except Gerard has another idea.

“Are you–” he starts the question just as Frank is pulling his fingers back, so he stops for a bit to let him talk. Gerard looks at him from under his wet bangs, a few rogue strands of hair in his mouth, which doesn’t seem to bother him, “--ready for a second round?”

Frank takes his fingers out and brings his hand down to cup his junk. Semi hard, good enough.

“Yeah?” he says, wondering if Gerard wants to switch roles for a bit. Gerard lets go of his thighs and sits on the bed, reaching for the nightstand to grab a foil stripe and cut a single square, showing it to Frank.

“Oh,” Frank gets it then. “Shit. Yes,” he adds, enthusiastically.

Gerard grins and gets closer to Frank, still on his knees. “Do you know how to put it on?”

As Frank cleans some of the spit running down his chin from rimming Gerard using the hand that was just in his ass, Frank thinks there’s nothing to be embarrassed of at this point.

“Not really,” he admits.

“That’s fine,” Gerard mumbles without a care, biting on the edge of the packet to rip it open. “I’ll do it.”

“Please don’t do it with your mouth,” Frank warns without thinking. “I’ll come.”

Gerard laughs, barely looking away from the condom as he searches for the correct side. “Next time then.”

Frank forces himself to forget the chance of a second time because he also runs the risk of finishing prematurely, twice. In fact, he doesn’t watch while Gerard grabs his cock, only feels his fingers circling the base and ignores how it twitches, hardening under Gerard’s touch. There’s pressure on the tip and then the latex is rolled down guided by Gerard. The process is a bit uncomfortable, thank god, and makes him feel more grounded.

Opening his eyes, he finds Gerard taking lube in his hand and spreading it over the condom, using whatever is left between his legs, and Frank has to squeeze the base of his dick to the point of pain to stop himself from coming.

“I’m not gonna last very long,” he warns again.

“Me neither,” Gerard scoots closer and places his hands on either side of Frank’s face to make him tilt his head to kiss his lips, nevermind that he still has lube on them. He looks just as hungry as he seemed before it all started, and if Frank thought Gerard would find it gross to taste himself on Frank’s lips after eating him out, he now knows he was absolutely wrong. “I’ll be on top, you won’t have to do much,” Gerard says, his voice low and sweet as he barely pulls back from the kiss.

“But I want to,” Frank argues, grabbing Gerard by the waist to guide him as smooth as he can to lie on the bed on his back, climbing on top of him. He brings his hands to the hoodie and starts pulling it up. “Want to fucking get rid of this too,” he mumbles. Gerard is so sweaty underneath, as if he forgot he had it on.

Gerard lifts his head and helps finish taking it off, leaving the hoodie next to his pillow. Maybe he doesn’t want to lose it. Once his hands are free, he puts them on Frank’s shoulders, traveling down his back until he reaches Frank’s ass, giving it a good squeeze to keep him in place as Gerard grinds his hips up, rubbing against his skin. It feels amazing, Frank only has to move a little to the left to line their dicks up, which causes him to moan in a way he had never heard himself before. He could stay like this for sure, and Gerard isn’t giving him much of a choice, but it would be a waste of a condom, right?

Frank goes for Gerard’s hands behind his back and grabs his wrists, making him raise his arms until they are above his head. Frank holds them there, letting Gerard feel his weight, sneaking a knee in between his thighs, feeling his hard dick against it. He kisses Gerard’s neck, biting as he did before, and Gerard throws his head back so he has full access. Fuck, this shouldn’t be so easy, it doesn’t feel right. Maybe there’s still some catholic guilt left in Frank’s brain.

“So you wanted to pin me down?” Gerard says, a little breathy for the teasing he’s going for.

“So badly,” Frank admits, gripping Gerard’s wrists harder. Gerard groans and wow, Frank needs to act now or never.

Despite Frank freeing Gerard’s arms, he keeps them up. Frank watches his chest raising, his agitated breathing, and feels so grateful that Gerard isn’t treating him as if Frank was incapable of taking the lead only because it’s his first time. Well, Frank is a bit nervous he’ll miss the target, but there’s only one hole down there, so, how hard can it be? He gets on his knees and holds his cock to guide it just in case. Gerard parts his legs and goes back to holding the backs of his knees, a move that at least Frank is now prepared for.

The tip of Frank’s cock touches between Gerard’s cheeks as he lines up to his hole. He doesn’t let go until the head is in. Then, Frank puts his hands on the bed for support as he thrusts his hips to push inside. Gerard closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. Frank doesn’t want to look away, needs to make sure he’s okay, but he can’t tell just from his expression.

“Does it hurt?” he decides to ask.

“No,” Gerard says quickly, and his voice sounds like it’s the opposite. “Feels great, keep going.”

Frank does as told once more. It has to be the most obedient he’s ever been in his life, but it’s getting him everything he could have wanted, there’s no reason to be combative. He just keeps pushing until his hips are flushed against Gerard’s ass, and then he stops for a moment, because the sensation is way more overwhelming than he anticipated. Good thing he told Gerard he wouldn’t last.

Being buried balls deep in this heat and tightness is something he had never been even close to experiencing, as Gerard already knew, and Frank feels like a complete moron for avoiding it for so long. He also feels like the luckiest moron in the world for doing it for the first time with someone as patient and nice as Gerard, getting the nerves out to be able to say to whoever he’s fucking on the next one that it isn’t his first rodeo, but the second.

Although, honestly, Frank believes what Gerard said about the act being good or not depending on who you’re doing it with, and it’s pretty perfect with Gerard.

Frank doesn’t notice he shut his eyes so hard until he opens them to find Gerard staring into him so intensely, as if he wanted to burn this moment in his memory forever, the exact picture of what Frank looks like as he fucks him. Or maybe Frank is projecting.

“You can move,” Gerard says, putting his legs around Frank’s waist.

Frank pulls his hips back and then pushes back into him; it feels so good he’s scared of exploding not even a minute into it. He needs to stop looking at Gerard’s face, because the expression he makes on Frank’s third thrust –scrunching his eyebrows together, closing his eyes and biting his lips– it’s exactly the same as when Gerard has that first sip of coffee followed by a drag of his cigarette, and now Frank will never be able to see it without creaming his pants. Worst of all, Gerard is sticking his fingers in his mouth as if he needed something to suck on and that’s also a thing he does all the time.

The issue is that Frank can’t look anywhere. Lowering his gaze, Frank stops to admire Gerard’s nipples that he had never seen before because Gerard is weird like that. He doesn’t care about his nuts popping out of his shorts, but walking around shirtless is crossing the line. And they’re cute, Gerard’s nipples, a dusty pink color, and they’re hard too. Gerard has enough chest that Frank thinks it’d be enough for a handful, but he really doesn’t need any more stimuli. He’s barely getting a steady rhythm of pumping as it is, and, fucking motherfucker, he just had to look lower and find Gerard’s soft belly, the dark trail of hair leading down. It takes moving just a little bit to the left to glance at his cock, the wet tip, how it bounces when Frank pumps harder.

Fuck, it’s so big. Frank knew Gerard was packing because he’s been staring down there ever since he met the guy, so determinedly he believed he would develop x-rays vision out of sheer willpower. Now that he can take a good look, accompanied by Gerard squirming on the bed with Frank inside of him, Frank wonders what it would feel like to be in that role, that huge dick in his ass. Would it even fit? Surely Gerard would take all of the time in the world to tenderly open Frank up for his other first time, he’s a gentleman like that.

Frank pushes deeper in the next thrust and holds the position for a moment, breathing through his mouth, trying to get rid of that idea. That’s the kind of greed they talk about in the bible. Unaware, Gerard moans particularly grateful, followed by a long and needy sound, and he mumbles, “Harder, c’mon,” causing Frank to forget what a thought even is. His hands move out of pure instinct to hold Gerard’s hips, his fingers sinking in. Gerard groans in response and brings his right hand down his own body to wrap around his dick, while pinching his chest with the left.

“Gee, fuck… You’re killing me,” Frank moans, gritting his teeth, giving Gerard all that he has, fucking him harder since Gerard is taking it so well.

“It’s so good, I’m almost there!”

Gerard throws his head back and his hand speeds up on his cock. Frank would love to help, but all of his focus and strength are on keeping his thrusts deep and quick. His hips hit Gerard’s ass each time, and Frank can hear the slapping sound. It’s so fucking dirty, like watching porn. Gerard clenches around him and his legs tremble as he’s reaching his climax.

Frank can feel the sweat running down all of his body, and he can’t deal anymore with the heat below his waist. He’s about to tell Gerard when he hears a string of short whimpers, almost pained, and then one long moan, louder than the rest, so fucking delicious Frank loses what little control he had left on the next thrust of his hips. He moves faster to chase his own rush and finally lets the orgasm take over. Good thing everyone in this house is completely blacked out drunk, because Frank is even louder than Gerard.

Frank comes so hard his ears are ringing and he has to blink a few times just to clear his blurry. Now he knows you can actually be fucked stupid, because that’s exactly what he feels like.

Gerard is still blissed out, slowly steadying his breathing, more relaxed than Frank has ever seen him. He looks gorgeous with the sheen of sweat on his skin, his hair a complete mess, his cheeks and chest flushed, marks of Frank’s fingers on his hips, and Frank’s dick slipping out of him. Frank sees every single detail and swallows thickly. He can’t pop a third boner, right? It’s biologically impossible even for him. He still looks away just in case.

Instead, he focuses on the state of the condom and wrinkles his nose.

He carefully grabs the edge and tries to take it out, doing his best not to spill anything, despite Gerard’s laughter distracting him.

“What do I do with this?”

“Tie a knot and throw it out,” Gerard says.

“Where?” Frank watches Gerard wiping off his hand on the hoodie he kept close. “Nevermind,” he takes it back, fearing that if he lets Gerard reply he’ll point to any spot on his carpet and Frank will lose his boner forever.

Just kidding, that’s impossible.

Frank gets up and walks towards the bathroom on wobbly legs, because it’s impossible to tell if Gerard even owns a trashcan with the state of his room, but there’s one there and Frank throws his first used condom in the trash, dedicating a minute of silence to it. It really served him well, Frank will never forget.

Frank takes the opportunity to wash his hands and face, staring at himself in the mirror. It’s not like he expects his reflection to look any different just because he bumped uglies with someone else, but the truth is he looks happy. And why wouldn’t he be? His band played a great show, he has the best friends, he’s following his passion, and he just had sex with a hot guy. Gerard.

Stepping back into Gerard’s bedroom, Frank finds him sitting on the bed with a blanket on his lap and a lit cigarette in his hand. Maybe Frank will be getting that third boner. He’s always had a thing for watching Gerard smoking. Or actually watching Gerard do anything where his mouth is involved. He should quit while he’s ahead.

Frank searches on the floor and miraculously finds his underwear and jeans. The t-shirt proves harder to locate, and while he looks for it, he tells Gerard, “I’m going back to Mikey’s room, so no one gets suspicious.”

“Oh, sure,” Gerard replies, sucking in some smoke. Frank watches him exhale through one side of his mouth after pulling his t-shirt down and getting his head out. “Keep me as your dirty little secret.”

Frank can tell Gerard isn’t serious, he’s being extra cartoonish and dramatic by turning his face to the other side, whipping his hair and giving him a shoulder as a disgruntled diva. Frank would give anything to stay there, except having everyone else know what just happened.

“Well, I have no other secrets right now,” Frank offers, buckling his belt. Gerard turns his face back to him, fixating his gaze on Frank’s hands. No idea what he finds interesting here. “Uh, thank you for…you know,” he says, completely lame. He shouldn’t feel lame when he just got laid.

But Gerard smiles, all warm and beautiful as ever.

“My pleasure, Frankie,” he says.

Frank turns on his heels and starts walking towards the door, but finds himself stopping before they can reach the frame. He chews on his lip ring as he feels his breathing getting faster just thinking of what he’s about to say next. He spins back to face Gerard, who looks at him curiously.

“You’re not gonna–” Frank begins saying, about to change his mind, but he wills himself to stop being a coward and just take the step. It’s proven to work out. “You’re not gonna go find another boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever in like two days, right?”

Because Frank will need a bit more than that to get used to the idea.

Gerard ashes his smoke and takes another drag.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly blowing out the smoke. “There’s this guy I’m really into, and we just hooked up, so hopefully he’ll want to see me again,” Gerard crosses his fingers up in the air, smiling with pretend hope.

Not gonna lie, Gerard had Frank in the first half. The relief of knowing is more than enough to finally convince him. Frank mumbles, “fuck it”, and starts undressing as Gerard holds the smoke between his lips to clap. Incredibly, Frank still blushes and pulls his pants and underwear down in one quick motion so he can get on the bed and under the blanket, grabbing Gerard’s face to steal the cigarette and kiss his lips after.

“Fuck it!”, he says, louder this time, sure of himself. “It’s not like anyone is gonna be surprised anyway,” he jokes.

Gerard laughs way harder than Frank expected, honking and snorting like he can’t help it.

“No, they fucking won’t.”

Deeply offended, Frank decides he won’t be returning the cigarette.

***