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"fucking hell, Gerard, I just wanna be close to you, is that a fucking crime?!" Frank yelled, guitar put aside long ago.
They were alone, everyone knew better than to come stare at Frank sitting so close to Gerard and the inevitable fall when Gerard complained. While Frank was looking up, looking for a moment from pushing Gerard in a fit of frustration, Gerard bit his inner cheek.
"And I want some room to breathe, what about that?" Gerard's slightly nasal voice chimed in against Frank.
Just a second ago they finished an interview. The regular questions flew by, even the mentions of that week's stage kiss didn't bat an eye in the room. "If you're against that shit, don't come to our shows, it isn't for you" Gerard had defended. "We wear skirts, kiss, it's whatever, it's a stage, it's performance".
Frank had been shaking his head, agreeing with Gerard. Then he talked, because of course he had to. The others had told him many times to mind what he said, tried giving impromptu media management master classes that obviously didn't work. Frank was there to make music, to give entertainment, so why the fuck did he have to bite his tongue instead of backing what he believes in?
Maybe it had been the way Gerard pushed him after the kiss, how Frank wanted to bite that neck but the cable–the fucking cable for the guitar–was too short and he accidentally tripped at Gerard's feet. It wouldn't have been so bad if Gerard didn't use Frank being on the ground to place his shoe against Frank's forehead in a Pretty Woman style that made Frank almost lose his focus, blood rushing hot to his face and elsewhere.
So when he went towards the microphone, Mikey looked at Ray, and Ray looked like he wanted to dig his head on the ground. That smirk on Frank's face, it wasn't good. Could they bribe the interviewer to delete the footage and start again? Frank went to the microphone:
"Fucking unbelievable there are homophobes out there. You gotta be pretty gay to be homophobic, and so ashamed of yourself." That wasn't that bad, they thought, and then Frank kept talking. "You should kiss your guy, like this." There it was.
Before Gerard could push apart, maybe because he didn't mind it when Frank was over his shoulder speaking to the microphone, hand on Gerard's shoulder to balance himself. He didn't have time to avoid the way Frank didn't even go for a kiss, but bit Gerard's lobe. If it was a kiss, maybe Gerard would have been able to play with it, maybe Gerard could've giggled and hit an elbow on Frank's ribs. But when the hot air coming from Frank's lungs and mouth hit his ear: sensitive, to that air, to the heat, to him, the pressure of those teeth that he had already memorised, the barely cold lip piercing. Gerard went pale, or perhaps blushed like a Victorian maiden, it was hard for him to tell with everything going on on his body at the same time. He couldn't really be mad, if he got up and left the growing bulge on his jeans would show, if he crossed his legs, that was for the media to interpret, so he moved slightly, keeping his routine of elbowing Frank and making him back off.
"You can tell he doesn't get much game by the way he called that a kiss" Gerard tried to save against the mic.
Maybe the interviewer had more questions, or maybe he already had the headliner he wanted and going on was just noise, but the interview didn't last long after that.
Frank followed Gerard in the green room, and Mikey went out with Ray with the excuse of checking something with the crew, or checking a shop somewhere, they didn't agree on what lie to say to give them time alone.
"Well you didn't precisely want any room when you got your foot to my face, did you?" Frank complained. "What about all that we kiss and wear skirts?"
"That's for the stage! Not a fucking interview!"
"You liked it" Frank attacked with a knowing smirk.
Gerard couldn't refute it, but he wasn't going to give in so easily.
"You liked it," Frank repeated "it was written all over your jeans" Frank got closer to Gerard, a finger going through the singer's belt loop. "Bet you keep thinking about it..."
"That's... That's besides the point" Gerard tried to push away, but Frank followed with the tension of his finger attached to Gerard. "Marketing and media is going to fucking kill us, Frank"
"That's all you care about?" Frank frowned, annoyed, sick of all the media and fame, of all the eyes on them. Sure, it was what they wanted, and he wouldn't give what they worked so hard for for anything
in the world, but it didn't mean shit if it meant his life wasn't his anymore. "You keep hiding like being ourselves wasn't what got us here in the first place. Fuck their rules, and fuck–"
Gerard, in all his holy patience, had enough. Gerard wasn't even the most concerned with keeping a pristine image, he couldn't give two flying fucks about people thinking they were gay or thinking anything, but what he couldn't stand is Frank acting like he wanted to sabotage it all with his feelings. There were places for kissing and biting, but an interview wasn't one of them. Perhaps this was the moment, perhaps he had to bleed it all with Frank so he could behave. It never worked like that, but trying felt too good.
The singer grabbed Frank's shirt, pushing him against the wall, pressing with his body. Trying to move Frank sometimes was like trying to move a dog growling at you, but Gerard was fed with that.
"You wanna fuck something?" Gerard groaned. "You really are a desperate fuck"
He didn't caress Frank's lips, he was far too frustrated for that: he dug two fingers into Frank's mouth, forcing it open, pushing the tongue down and watching all that reddish, wet flesh. And then Frank's tongue moved, like it wanted to caress Gerard's fingers, force them deeper. Frank was light-headed already, breathing hard against Gerard's wet lips, that same hot air that had caressed Gerard's ear a while ago. Frank surely wanted to speak, Gerard was certain of it, and it only made him thankful he already had his mouth full. But the guitarist couldn't stop there, he had to do something and rub himself against Gerard's leg pinning him against the wall. Frank looked straight at the other's eyes, daring him to try and stop him, to take those fingers out and let him talk and stop feeling his tongue move like it wanted to go somewhere else.
A shaky breath slipped through Gerard's lips, followed by a tension building from his coxis to the base of his very skull, flooding his system like a battery charging up for something.
"Don't do that..." Was it a beg? An order? But Frank couldn't ask nor tease about it: he kept moving his hips in that 8 motion, piercing hooded eyes.
Somehow, despite being on top, despite having his fingers carving through the back of his mouth, Gerard felt helpless. All the time he had tried to resist, perhaps he should only... Dig further, through the uvula, until the smirking corners of Frank's mouth rubbed hard against his palm, saliva drooling past his bottom lip and pooling disgustingly on Frank's chin. Frank gagged hard, but it sounded like a moan to Gerard. All that tension wanted to snap.
"Get on your knees"
There was the order Frank had been waiting all this time for, and yet hé couldn't break his eyes as he slid down, knees weak before that red eyeshadow and black hair, before that shirt that he didn't even need to unbutton to remember where the beauty marks of his ribs were located. His knees hit the ground; he could go lower, go on the ground and maybe Gerard would step on him again, just break that invisible leash he allowed to tell him it was wrong, and fuck him hard against the ground like he hated his guts. But Frank didn't have to lay down for Gerard to bring his shoe to Frank's shoulder, effectively pinning it against the wall. Frank smiled, cleaning the drool out of his mouth roughly with the heel of his hand, still looking up.
"Are you going to fucking behave for once?" Gerard hissed, like he was suddenly aware they might be heard, but not leaving Frank free either. When that cord snapped, Frank thought, he'd draw blood.
"You're not giving me many reasons to want to" Frank teased from underneath, and that fucking smirk...
Gerard took away his shoe, and Frank thought that was it, disappointed, but it was something. He could touch himself to it at night, maybe, and then that same hardness was pressed down hard as Gerard put his shoe against the bulge between Frank's legs. Frank whined, he didn't really like it, the pain, but seeing Gerard lose his patience like that? Worth it.
"Take it off or I'll literally open your pants and-" Frank hissed.
"You're getting behind on that" Gerard cut, undoing his bat belt and opening his pants, zipper down. "You have no idea how much I wanna just..." Gerard cut himself, frustrated at how hard it was to actually speak it out loud when Frank couldn't even close his mouth for a goddamn second. He wanted to choke Frank on his dick, make him gag harder and just... Fuck him, fuck Frank, fuck...
Gerard took a handful of Frank's hair, forcing the bangs out of Frank's face. With his other hand, he pulled down his pants further, letting his dick out. Not a massive thing, average, enough to not think about the size as he had to push it down slightly to lead it against Frank's mouth, leaning forward slightly to let it go deeper. And there he felt that heat that had clashed against his ear earlier, the wet that was drying from his fingers... It was so hot, it felt like home. Gerard's forehead was against the wall now, almost pushing Frank's mouth. And Frank wanted to giggle at how clumsy it all looked: not like passion, but the slow drag of someone who was so lost he didn't know it was time for the thrust. And then Gerard let the hair go to hold the back of Frank's head, pushing it against his pelvis, taking out a gag and choke from Frank as he tries to force his glands deeper. He could already feel the involuntary spasm of a throat feeling an intrusion that wasn't meant to be there. Frank could've felt attacked if he didn't love the whines from Gerard that could've been a sob, not even moans, but Frank was about to change that.
Gerard had enough comfort, Frank wasn't about to sit and get used so tenderly when the tip of Gerard's shoe, which had already slipped, was still pressed slightly. Sure he had been rubbing himself, palming his own length, but he needed more. He began moving against Gerard's hand, which could be understood as needing some air to breathe. Gerard almost felt bad, if it wasn't for the sudden thrust to suck harder, which made the taller man's back arch and his hip move involuntarily to lead his dick deeper. Now that was a moan, and Frank wanted more. He moved again, and Gerard just began to get a hold of it and move. What felt better? The friction of the depth? He wasn't sure, because those gags felt like heaven, but the movement was making his knees weak and forcing his eyes shut.
"F-frank... I'm gonna..." Gerard's hips were already stuttering their motion.
Frank did the worst he could do and pulled away, gasping for air and looking up, one hand from under his pants to keep stroking Gerard's dick, the air feeling like punishment. Their eyeshadow was smudged and smokey.
"You gonna what? You were talking big time about not doing this and now you want your load on my mouth?" Frank smiled like a devil, Gerard's dick was too close to that mouth for any logical response to follow out of the singer's mouth. "We have load in at any moment, the door isn't even unlocked, and you want to take this load in my stomach?" It was all so dirty, so visceral, nothing like all those romantic images Gerard wrote, and all of the filth that got him losing his mind.
Gerard looked at the closed door: no one had locked it, and anyone could wander through the hallway, open it trying to check on them, and see them. It wasn't any more about the reality of them being together, it was being seen while having sex.
"Just... Suck it" Gerard turned back to Frank.
"Or what?"
Frank teased, his hand stopping the motion and pressing at Gerard's tip, a thumb rubbing gently against the gland. That could've been enough for him to cum right there, completely weak, overwhelmed by the sensations that were too physical and real to even think about any of his weird kinks. It all meant nothing against the reality of being about to finish against Frank's face. The teasing, that's what he couldn't handle, that's what was frying at his nerves, dick twitching and pre-cum dripping against that hand, the sticky liquid through Frank's fingers.
"Just... Fuck you"
Gerard took Frank's hair again, the other hand holding his weight against the wall, forehead against forearm as he lead Frank's mouth to his dick with a broken "fuck" that carried on the stale air between them. And what could Frank do but take it? But move with Gerard's hand and ignore his gag reflex and self preservation with the need to feel the hottest liquid of them. "God... God..." Gerard moaned, closer, his dick twitching against the spasming muscles of Frank's throat, the knot at the base of his pelvis tensing more and more until...
It broke.
And Frank could barely tell, still sucking so hard and greedy it just went right to his stomach, but for the way Gerard was actually pulling his hair to keep him in place, shut eyes and beautiful tears at his eyelashes like raindrops against daffodil flowers. When the high was leaving and Gerard stopped pulling enough for Frank to let the half hard dick out, Gerard was still feeling weak, savouring that tiredness that made him sluggish.
Frank grabbed that hand and kissed it with his swollen and slimy lips, drool back at his chin and neck. "You're so fucking pretty..." Frank rasped against that hand, snapping Gerard back to reality, enough to pull his underwear back up with a lazy movement that would feel uncomfortable later. Frank finally got up, his knees locking with a dull ache that made him regret not forcing Gerard on the ground too, but the sight? Gerard whimpering and crying over him was reward enough.
"...I need a coffee after this" Gerard finally said, mechanically closing his belt as his chest still heaved.
"I'm so horny still"
"That's for taking this to actual footage. You should've waited like a normal person"
"You look too hot when you get angry. I know what I'm doing"
Gerard didn't answer despite the blush. Instead taking his coat and opening the door of the green room, taking out a cigarette. The air outside was disgustingly clean, which made the room's charge of sex the more intense and wrong.
"We have to help with the load, so get yourself together, Frankie"
Frank took a cigarette from Gerard's. "Sure, boss" he complained, lighting his cigarette against Gerard's and cleaning himself with the inside of his shirt. It felt so right knowing Gerard was somehow still inside him despite being apart.