"Frank's Coming Out Story", young Frank/Dave the paperboy, NC-17
Title: Frank’s Coming Out Story
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Young Frank/Dave the paperboy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Frank and Sheryl both have a crush on the paperboy. But Frank is the one that gets him in the end.
A/N: In Green-Eyed Monster, Frank tells Dwayne that he didn’t so much ‘come out’ to his parents, as have his mother walk in on him and the paperboy in a, er, compromising position on the living room sofa. THIS IS THAT STORY. For matthias_vl.
Frank thundered down the stairs and ran across the room towards the kitchen window. He clambered up onto the countertop, then onto the windowsill, and peeled back the netting curtain to peer out onto the street. An old lady passing by at that moment shot him a startled look and dropped her handbag, and Frank gave her a friendly wave. He checked his watch and then scanned the street again. It was nearly seven, where was he?
“Morning, honey,” said a voice, and Frank dragged himself away from the window to see his mother, clad in a silk dressing gown and holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She tilted her head to the side, smiled at him, and then disappeared off back into the living room again.
Frank turned back to the window, pressing his face against it and watching the condensation form on the surface from his breath. He checked his watch again, and then heard the sound of feet pounding down the stairs behind him.
“Is he here? Is he?” Sheryl asked excitedly, leaping down the last few steps in one go and racing into the kitchen. She was already dressed, in a little white summer dress, and she had put on make-up - something Frank rarely saw her do.
“D’you think you’re wearing enough lipstick?” Frank teased as his sister pulled herself up onto the counter. She stuck her tongue out at him and then checked her reflection nervously in the window.
“He’s late! He’s late again,” she said dramatically, running a hand through her hair and sighing. “The amount of time we spend waiting for him…”
“I spend more time,” Frank insisted. “I was here a whole five minutes before you.”
“Two at the most,” Sheryl replied, neatening her lipstick with her fingertip. “And you don’t make as much of an effort. He obviously looks at me the most.”
“You wish,” Frank retorted, elbowing her in the ribs so she nearly fell off the counter and into the sink.
“He’s not gay!” Sheryl shrieked, regaining her balance and slapping Frank’s arm.
“Shhh!” Frank hissed, eyeing the door. “Mom’s in the other room.”
Sheryl ignored him, though, and Frank realised she was staring out of the window. He turned his head quickly to see just who they’d been waiting for. The paperboy. Dave. They watched, mesmerised. The boy rode up to their house on his bike, then hopped off it, letting it fall to the sidewalk as he headed towards the gate.
“He’s coming! Get out of the way, you jerk,” Sheryl whispered frantically as Frank moved in front of her.
Dave was seventeen, closer to Sheryl’s age than Frank’s but still somehow seeming irrestistably mature and cool to both of them. He was tall and tanned, with white-blond hair, and he always wore a string of tiny shells around his neck. He strutted down the garden path with the day’s paper clutched in his hand. Just then, he glanced up to the window and saw Frank and Sheryl grinning back at him.
He waved, and to Frank’s utter embarrassment Sheryl blew him a kiss. He turned to her, wrinkling up her nose.
“He caught it! Look, Frank!” Sheryl cried. Frank looked out into the garden again and saw Dave sliding his hand into his pocket and winking.
“That means nothing,” he insisted. “He probably just didn’t want you to feel too bad about the fact that he’s gay.”
“Whatever, Frank,” Sheryl said. She pushed herself off the counter and onto the floor again. “I’m going to go out and say hi!”
“You’re not!” Frank gasped, but she had already left the room. Sighing, he looked back outside. Dave tossed the paper onto the front step and then headed back towards the gate. Frank listened to Sheryl struggling to unlock the front door. Dave turned around to shut the gate behind him, and as he looked up, he glanced around surrepticiously before planting a kiss on the palm of his hand and then blowing it, looking Frank directly in the eye as he did so.
* * *
“I knew you were gay,” Frank said happily the following Saturday as Dave sat before him on the sofa, unbuckling his belt.
“Don’t think your sis did, though,” Dave said in his gruff voice, shucking his khaki shorts and tossing them onto the living room floor.
Frank gazed at him. “How did you know I was gay?”
“Are you kidding?” Dave laughed. “Every single morning you were there, watching out the window. You were just as obvious as your sis.”
Frank blushed, then blushed even more when Dave reached forwards to pull down his pants.
“You know, I’ve never-” he stammered. “I mean, this isn’t-”
Dave ignored him, running his hand over Frank’s cloth-covered erection and smiling. Their eyes met and Frank stopped thinking about how fun it was going to be to gloat about this to Sheryl, and instead started to worry. And melt a little bit. Dave’s clear blue eyes twinkled at him and he suddenly felt very lucky indeed.
“I’ve never done this before,” he managed to choke out. The only person who’d even known he was gay was Sheryl. He had friends at school but none he trusted enough to confide in, and Dave was the first other gay person he’d even met.
“Don’t worry,” Dave grinned. “I have. Many times. How old didja say you were?”
Frank grimaced. “Seventeen,” he lied.
“Bullshit,” Dave replied, but he was still stroking Frank’s hard-on with his fingers so he figured he could safely assume things were still going to continue.
“Sixteen?” Frank tried tentatively.
“You’re fifteen,” Dave told him. “You are, aren’t you, yeah? I’m good at guessin’ ages.”
Frank just stared at him.
“C’mon then, let’s get these off,” Dave went on, tugging at the waistband of Frank’s boxers. Frank took a quick moment to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and then let Dave pull his boxers off. He was painfully aware of how much he was blushing, but Dave didn’t even seem to notice.
“Wanna see mine?” Dave asked, straightening back up. Frank’s throat was very dry all of a sudden and all he could manage was a nod, but that seemed to be enough. Dave took off his boxers and smiled proudly at Frank’s reaction.
He shifted on the sofa, then spat into his hand and reached out to wrap it around Frank’s cock. Frank breathed in sharply, shuddering when Dave began to move his hand up and down, curling it tighter and tugging faster.
“Oh - God!” he spluttered, raising his hips up towards Dave’s fist.
“Go on then, do mine,” Dave muttered, giving Frank one of his signature winks. Frank decided he probably would have done absolutely anything that Dave told him to, at this point, and obeyed, licking his palm and taking Dave’s cock into his hand. He found it a little strange to be holding someone else’s cock, and the angle was uncomfortable, but this was something he’d dreamed about for months and he wasn’t about to complain.
He was just getting used to it, and enjoying the expression on Dave’s face, when he felt a slightly wet finger creeping between his legs, behind his balls. He shot Dave a nervous look, but Dave only smiled and pushed the finger further, just the tip of it inside him.
Frank squirmed, trying to get used to it. He’d never done this to himself before. Dave kept smiling in a vaguely reassuring way at him, rubbing his cock slowly. He brushed his thumb over the slit in the head at the same time as he slid his finger all the way inside Frank, and Frank let out a loud and slightly surprised moan.
“It’s good, right?” Dave asked, grinning. Frank could only gulp and nod and fist Dave’s cock faster.
And then they heard the door slam.
If the house hadn’t been set out in such a ridiculous way, Frank thought, maybe they would’ve had a few more seconds to hide or at least cover up a little. But as it was, his mother was standing directly opposite them, staring in shock.
“Mom!” Frank cried, letting go of Dave immediately and shuffling back across the sofa as though nothing was happening.
“Mrs Ginsberg,” said Dave, giving Frank’s mother a curt nod as he reached for his clothes from the floor.
“Mom, I can explain-” Frank stammered. “We were…it was…you see, I’m…”
Dave was dressing quite rapidly next to him and he suddenly realised that this wasn’t the best explanation to give whilst naked. He grabbed his clothes too and began throwing them on at lightning speed. His mother just stood there speechless.
Dave crossed the room towards her. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Ginsberg,” he said with his usual heart-stopping movie-star smile. “I’d shake your hand, but, y’know.”
Mrs Ginsberg said nothing. Frank watched the two of them nervously, and began to wonder what Sheryl would do if she had been in this situation - she always seemed to be able to deal with horrifically mortifying situations in a calm, sensible way. As it was, he had no clue what to do next at all.
“I’ll let myself out then,” Dave went on, heading towards the door. “See you later Frank. Oh, and Mrs Ginsberg?”
Frank’s mother turned to look at the departing paperboy. “Yes?” she said faintly.
“Your son’s queer,” Dave grinned, and he stepped outside and shut the door behind him.
Frank had the horrible, sinking feeling that in the near future, they were going to end up with a new paperboy.
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Young Frank/Dave the paperboy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Frank and Sheryl both have a crush on the paperboy. But Frank is the one that gets him in the end.
A/N: In Green-Eyed Monster, Frank tells Dwayne that he didn’t so much ‘come out’ to his parents, as have his mother walk in on him and the paperboy in a, er, compromising position on the living room sofa. THIS IS THAT STORY. For matthias_vl.
Frank thundered down the stairs and ran across the room towards the kitchen window. He clambered up onto the countertop, then onto the windowsill, and peeled back the netting curtain to peer out onto the street. An old lady passing by at that moment shot him a startled look and dropped her handbag, and Frank gave her a friendly wave. He checked his watch and then scanned the street again. It was nearly seven, where was he?
“Morning, honey,” said a voice, and Frank dragged himself away from the window to see his mother, clad in a silk dressing gown and holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She tilted her head to the side, smiled at him, and then disappeared off back into the living room again.
Frank turned back to the window, pressing his face against it and watching the condensation form on the surface from his breath. He checked his watch again, and then heard the sound of feet pounding down the stairs behind him.
“Is he here? Is he?” Sheryl asked excitedly, leaping down the last few steps in one go and racing into the kitchen. She was already dressed, in a little white summer dress, and she had put on make-up - something Frank rarely saw her do.
“D’you think you’re wearing enough lipstick?” Frank teased as his sister pulled herself up onto the counter. She stuck her tongue out at him and then checked her reflection nervously in the window.
“He’s late! He’s late again,” she said dramatically, running a hand through her hair and sighing. “The amount of time we spend waiting for him…”
“I spend more time,” Frank insisted. “I was here a whole five minutes before you.”
“Two at the most,” Sheryl replied, neatening her lipstick with her fingertip. “And you don’t make as much of an effort. He obviously looks at me the most.”
“You wish,” Frank retorted, elbowing her in the ribs so she nearly fell off the counter and into the sink.
“He’s not gay!” Sheryl shrieked, regaining her balance and slapping Frank’s arm.
“Shhh!” Frank hissed, eyeing the door. “Mom’s in the other room.”
Sheryl ignored him, though, and Frank realised she was staring out of the window. He turned his head quickly to see just who they’d been waiting for. The paperboy. Dave. They watched, mesmerised. The boy rode up to their house on his bike, then hopped off it, letting it fall to the sidewalk as he headed towards the gate.
“He’s coming! Get out of the way, you jerk,” Sheryl whispered frantically as Frank moved in front of her.
Dave was seventeen, closer to Sheryl’s age than Frank’s but still somehow seeming irrestistably mature and cool to both of them. He was tall and tanned, with white-blond hair, and he always wore a string of tiny shells around his neck. He strutted down the garden path with the day’s paper clutched in his hand. Just then, he glanced up to the window and saw Frank and Sheryl grinning back at him.
He waved, and to Frank’s utter embarrassment Sheryl blew him a kiss. He turned to her, wrinkling up her nose.
“He caught it! Look, Frank!” Sheryl cried. Frank looked out into the garden again and saw Dave sliding his hand into his pocket and winking.
“That means nothing,” he insisted. “He probably just didn’t want you to feel too bad about the fact that he’s gay.”
“Whatever, Frank,” Sheryl said. She pushed herself off the counter and onto the floor again. “I’m going to go out and say hi!”
“You’re not!” Frank gasped, but she had already left the room. Sighing, he looked back outside. Dave tossed the paper onto the front step and then headed back towards the gate. Frank listened to Sheryl struggling to unlock the front door. Dave turned around to shut the gate behind him, and as he looked up, he glanced around surrepticiously before planting a kiss on the palm of his hand and then blowing it, looking Frank directly in the eye as he did so.
* * *
“I knew you were gay,” Frank said happily the following Saturday as Dave sat before him on the sofa, unbuckling his belt.
“Don’t think your sis did, though,” Dave said in his gruff voice, shucking his khaki shorts and tossing them onto the living room floor.
Frank gazed at him. “How did you know I was gay?”
“Are you kidding?” Dave laughed. “Every single morning you were there, watching out the window. You were just as obvious as your sis.”
Frank blushed, then blushed even more when Dave reached forwards to pull down his pants.
“You know, I’ve never-” he stammered. “I mean, this isn’t-”
Dave ignored him, running his hand over Frank’s cloth-covered erection and smiling. Their eyes met and Frank stopped thinking about how fun it was going to be to gloat about this to Sheryl, and instead started to worry. And melt a little bit. Dave’s clear blue eyes twinkled at him and he suddenly felt very lucky indeed.
“I’ve never done this before,” he managed to choke out. The only person who’d even known he was gay was Sheryl. He had friends at school but none he trusted enough to confide in, and Dave was the first other gay person he’d even met.
“Don’t worry,” Dave grinned. “I have. Many times. How old didja say you were?”
Frank grimaced. “Seventeen,” he lied.
“Bullshit,” Dave replied, but he was still stroking Frank’s hard-on with his fingers so he figured he could safely assume things were still going to continue.
“Sixteen?” Frank tried tentatively.
“You’re fifteen,” Dave told him. “You are, aren’t you, yeah? I’m good at guessin’ ages.”
Frank just stared at him.
“C’mon then, let’s get these off,” Dave went on, tugging at the waistband of Frank’s boxers. Frank took a quick moment to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and then let Dave pull his boxers off. He was painfully aware of how much he was blushing, but Dave didn’t even seem to notice.
“Wanna see mine?” Dave asked, straightening back up. Frank’s throat was very dry all of a sudden and all he could manage was a nod, but that seemed to be enough. Dave took off his boxers and smiled proudly at Frank’s reaction.
He shifted on the sofa, then spat into his hand and reached out to wrap it around Frank’s cock. Frank breathed in sharply, shuddering when Dave began to move his hand up and down, curling it tighter and tugging faster.
“Oh - God!” he spluttered, raising his hips up towards Dave’s fist.
“Go on then, do mine,” Dave muttered, giving Frank one of his signature winks. Frank decided he probably would have done absolutely anything that Dave told him to, at this point, and obeyed, licking his palm and taking Dave’s cock into his hand. He found it a little strange to be holding someone else’s cock, and the angle was uncomfortable, but this was something he’d dreamed about for months and he wasn’t about to complain.
He was just getting used to it, and enjoying the expression on Dave’s face, when he felt a slightly wet finger creeping between his legs, behind his balls. He shot Dave a nervous look, but Dave only smiled and pushed the finger further, just the tip of it inside him.
Frank squirmed, trying to get used to it. He’d never done this to himself before. Dave kept smiling in a vaguely reassuring way at him, rubbing his cock slowly. He brushed his thumb over the slit in the head at the same time as he slid his finger all the way inside Frank, and Frank let out a loud and slightly surprised moan.
“It’s good, right?” Dave asked, grinning. Frank could only gulp and nod and fist Dave’s cock faster.
And then they heard the door slam.
If the house hadn’t been set out in such a ridiculous way, Frank thought, maybe they would’ve had a few more seconds to hide or at least cover up a little. But as it was, his mother was standing directly opposite them, staring in shock.
“Mom!” Frank cried, letting go of Dave immediately and shuffling back across the sofa as though nothing was happening.
“Mrs Ginsberg,” said Dave, giving Frank’s mother a curt nod as he reached for his clothes from the floor.
“Mom, I can explain-” Frank stammered. “We were…it was…you see, I’m…”
Dave was dressing quite rapidly next to him and he suddenly realised that this wasn’t the best explanation to give whilst naked. He grabbed his clothes too and began throwing them on at lightning speed. His mother just stood there speechless.
Dave crossed the room towards her. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Ginsberg,” he said with his usual heart-stopping movie-star smile. “I’d shake your hand, but, y’know.”
Mrs Ginsberg said nothing. Frank watched the two of them nervously, and began to wonder what Sheryl would do if she had been in this situation - she always seemed to be able to deal with horrifically mortifying situations in a calm, sensible way. As it was, he had no clue what to do next at all.
“I’ll let myself out then,” Dave went on, heading towards the door. “See you later Frank. Oh, and Mrs Ginsberg?”
Frank’s mother turned to look at the departing paperboy. “Yes?” she said faintly.
“Your son’s queer,” Dave grinned, and he stepped outside and shut the door behind him.
Frank had the horrible, sinking feeling that in the near future, they were going to end up with a new paperboy.