fic
Title: In smoke with all our memories
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Author: mcrnut
Rating: NC-17
P.O.V: third, Gerard centered
Disclaimer: Do not own, not true. The title and lyrics belong to Eminem.
Summary:
He screams when Frank slams into him and punches the wall beside his head. He was so sure he'd hit him, was so ready for it, but when his head twists painfully to the side he sees Frank's fist buried in the thin wooden wall,
dust swirling in the light around them.
Warnings: Sex, violence
A/N: Inspired by the song "Love The Way You Lie (Part 2)" by Rihanna and Eminem.
And also the music video for the original version.
Shove me, in the aftermath of the destructive path that we're on,
two psychopaths but we know that no matter how many knives we put in each other's backs that we'll have each other's backs,
'cause we're that lucky
Gerard falls quiet like he usually does, something heavy twisting in his chest.
Frank looks at him, palms rough against Gerard's cheekbones, he doesn't allow him to turn his head away, and Frank's jaw is clenched in anger, the bow of his right eyebrow twitching, once. The silence is too heavy as Frank searches his face, and Gerard can't make himself say anything, because he's so tired, so incredibly tired of talking. He narrows his eyes and he wants to rip Frank's hands off his face and shove him away, wants to see his body slam into the wall, but at the same time he wants to pull him close, to bury his fingers in his hair and feel Frank's breath on his skin, against his lips, hear his scratchy voice next to his ear.
Frank lets his arms fall and kicks at Gerard's bookshelf, yelling, "Jesus, Gerard, Jesus fucking Christ." And a couple of books fall, spreading out against the wooden floor.
Gerard doesn't even flinch. He doesn't even look at him as Frank growls angrily and storms out the door, slamming it so hard after him that everything in the small apartment shudders around him.
Gerard sits on the armrest of his couch and smokes, staring at the wall helplessly. He holds the smoke in his lungs to feel the burn, to make sure he can still feel something.
*
He screams when Frank slams into him and punches the wall beside his head.
He was so sure he'd hit him, was so ready for it, but when his head twists painfully to the side he sees Frank's fist buried in the thin wooden wall, dust swirling in the light around them.
"Fuck you!" Gerard says as Frank kisses him, pushes him up against the wall harder, biting his lip and touching his neck and face with bloody, bruised knuckles. "Fuck you." He says again, opening up and kissing him back with all his might.
Frank breathes harshly against his throat, teeth scraping against his skin.
They struggle across the hall and Frank throws him violently down onto the couch. His eyes are dark, and Gerard sits up, ready to push him away and close to him, all at once, when Frank grabs his wrists, hard.
"God," he says through gritted teeth as they fight. Gerard digs his nails into Frank's shoulders and feels them sink into his flesh, just to make him hurt as much as possible. He gasps when Frank pushes his legs apart and grinds down, pressing his forehead against Gerard's collarbone.
Gerard twists his hands in Frank's shirt, kicking off the rough material of the couch and Frank stumbles back. Gerard shoves him, watches as he falls back against the coffee table, cursing even before he hits it, and it slides several feet across the floor, glasses and magazines and ashtrays flying everywhere.
They both stand completely still, looking at each other. Gerard lifts his chin up, challenging, ready to punch, kick, kiss - anything.
Frank calms his breathing and wipes at his jaw, smearing around the orangey blood from a scrape Gerard left there. He blinks slowly before moving closer, shoulders relaxed and arms hanging loose by his side, and before he can think, Gerard throws himself at Frank, cups the back of his neck and presses his tongue into his mouth.
They moan and breathe against each other, stumbling over to the bedroom. Helpless, like there's not enough time in the world, and Frank is so careful, so slow and careful and violent at the same time and Gerard can't even hold onto one, single, reasonable thought, because the feel of their bodies sliding against each other, Frank hard and slick and loving and angry against him is too much, far too much.
*
"It'll get better." Gerard tells his hands as he looks down at them.
He's sitting in the middle of the living room floor to feel the strip of sunlight from between the curtains on his back. He lights up a cigarette and looks at the mess on the floor, the hole in the wall, and he doesn't know what he's feeling, hates himself for wanting Frank back here with him so he can dig his fingers up under his jaw where it hurts, and then kiss it better.
He doesn't know where Frank is. Probably out stealing something he could afford to buy, or starting a pointless fight, or fucking some nameless, stupid whore. Gerard bites down on his tongue and lets his head fall back on his shoulders.
He feels dead and he feels more alive than he ever has in his life.
He throws the last of his cigarette into a sticky, brownish puddle on the floor, watching it hiss and die.
It isn't more than half an hour later when Frank comes back, a deep, red mark blooming on his left cheekbone.
"I love you," he says, stumbling in and sinking down on his knees next to Gerard, leaning down against the floor and resting his head in his lap.
Gerard strokes his hand through Frank's hair carefully, tracing patterns down the side of his face and up behind his ear. "I know," he says, finally.
Frank rolls over slightly so he's looking directly up at him, eyes shiny, gold and hazel in the dim light. He takes Gerard's hand off his face and laces their fingers, watching his own thumb slide over Gerard's white knuckles.
They sit like that, touching each other, nothing rushed or hurried and Gerard leans down to kiss him after a while, just to feel his lips against his, slick up the red cut in Frank's lip with his tongue.
"How fucked up is that?" he whispers.
*
Frank is pressing their hands into the wall as he fucks deep into Gerard, biting on the side of his neck. Gerard lets his head loll back against Frank's shoulder and meets his thrusts, revelling in the feeling of being held against the headboard so hard he can barely breathe. He's on his knees, legs spread and he feels like he isn't even there, nothing can feel so good, and he exhales loudly while bringing their hands to his mouth so he can bite over their laced fingers.
Frank hisses behind him, nosing along his jaw line, giving his sweaty skin an experimental lick. Gerard turns his head so they can kiss, It's an awkward angle though and they end up just panting into each others mouths.
Gerard whines and arches, but Frank clamps a hand on his hip determinedly, keeping him from moving much at all. "No," he says, scraping his nails down Gerard's side. His pupils are blown and Gerard wants to smash his head back into Frank's face, but he doesn't, instead he claws at the headboard with his free hand and holds his breath as he feels it build in his stomach and tights and all the way up his spine.
"Fuck," he says.
He can feel Frank's smile against his skin as he slows down, rolling his hips into him with steady, long thrusts and Gerard makes a deep noise somewhere between a growl and a moan and Frank pushes off the headboard slightly to give him some room.
"Don't touch yourself," he warns and grips the inside of Gerard's thigh, holding him open and pressing him forward with a hand between his shoulder blades. He just goes for it after that, hard, deep thrusts and Gerard is moaning non-stop, barely able to hold himself up.
He comes and it's just endless, it lasts and lasts and Frank is fucking him through it, the firm hand on his back almost loving. Gerard is practically sobbing from the pleasure when Frank finally gasps and twitches inside of him, tipping over the edge and digging his hands into his neck and hip.
He curls around Gerard afterwards, possessive and gentle like he always is after they fuck. He touches his cheeks and kisses his mouth and just holds him until they drift off, too tired to think and too in love to move.
*
Gerard wakes up, limbs tangled with Franks on the soft double bed. He lets his eyes wander over his face, the streak of morning sun cast across his neck and chin. Frank's breath hitches and he blinks awake, too, unfocused and beautiful. Gerard bites down on his lower lip, unable to stop himself from smiling.
Frank rasps out something into his pillow and drags Gerard closer under the clammy sheets.