Fic
TITLE: Surfacing (for the longest time)
CHAPTER: Sequel to Surfacing
AUTHOR: not0-fuckin-kay
PAIRING: Gerard/Frank
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: It's motel night, and Gerard's searches out something stronger than beer to get his confidence up in order to get close to Frank again.
DISCLAIMER: Not real, never happened.
WARNING: Mentions of drug use and drunkeness. Sex.
A/N: This, and the one previous, were born out of suggestions from, and dedicated to, my lovely Anon.
Previous: Surfacing
The next time it happens Gerard's off his face again. Only more so.
They'd had one last gig before heading home, just for a little while, and now that they had Brian on board he'd dedided they deserved a night out of the van once in a while. So the motel might have been on the cheap side, might've had peeling paper and stained carpet and shit coffee, but it had beds, in actual rooms, and that was pretty much as good as they'd gotten for a while.
So Brian let's them decide who's sleeping where in the double rooms he's booked, except for Mikey, who he declares he has to share with because Mikey's so far the only one yet to puke on him in the middle of the night. Frank settles into the room he has the key for, quite comfortably. He's got his cokes and his beers and a nice bowl of weed, and a bed to lie back and smoke on. It's relaxing and definitely welcome, even if he has nobody to share it with right now because Gerard is... off somwhere or other.
Four joints, a few beers, and a lot less clothing later for Frank (it's so hot, and can they please fix the air con?), he hears some scratching around the lock of the door and sighs. It's really gonna ruin the buzz if someone's trying to break in. He has fuck-all to steal, but he still hides the weed under the bad, just in case, and wanders slowly over to the door. The scratching's stopped, replaced by a few rapid knocks and a giggle.
"Gerard," Frank opens the door, and Gerard's there, leaning on the frame with the van keys in his hand, "you're stupid," he laughs, closing and locking the door. "Where've you..." he stops short of asking Gerard where he's been, because he's apparantly very tired, and pulling his clothes off like he can't do it fast enough. Then Frank just stares as Gerard unceremoniously starts tossing everything off of the bed, and only just about manages to pick up the ceramic dish he was using as an ashtray before that too, ends up on the floor.
Gerard takes it from him, dumps it on the small vanity unit, and when Frank touches his bare waist and asks, "Seriously, Gee, where you been? You okay?" Gerard presses Frank up against it and grins. That's when Frank sees just how wide Gerard's eyes are, how kind of clear but totally fucked he looks.
"Fighting monsters out back," is all Gerard offers in explanation before he latches his mouth to Frank's neck and slides a hand down into his boxers.
He's naked, Frank thinks, his hands flying to Gerard's shoulders, and he gasps when Gerard's fingers curl around his dick. He's not hard, barely even aroused at all, too surprised at Gerard's sudden enthusiasm, but too relaxed from how much he's smoked to really resist Gerard's man-handling of him. "I don't know what you're doin', Gee, but-"
"But?" Gerard asks, tearing himself away from Frank's neck, nipping along his jaw as he feels Frank slowly, slowly start to harden in his hand. "I wanted to do this again but I didn't think you'd. Dunno," he shakes his head, kissing Frank again and grinding against the top of his thigh. "Was too nervous," he says, and Frank grabs Gerard by his sides to bring him closer.
When Frank begins moving with Gerard, Gerard let's him for a few minutes, moving back to suck a pretty, purple speckled bruise at the bottom of Frank's neck. He bites down when Frank moans, "Fucking vampire," and finds another spot to mark by Frank's shoulder.
Then, "It's easier like this," Gerard says suddenly, falling to his knees, and he pulls the boxers with him, grins up at Frank for just a couple of seconds to mumble, "split a few beers and an eight-ball with Mikey and some guy," just before he starts sucking Frank's dick.
Frank can't really process what Gerard's said though, couldn't really understand it, just cradles the back of his head and thrusts his hips lazily. And Gerard's giving what is probably the single worst blowjob of Frank's life; too much teeth and too sloppy, too fast and enthusiatic, but then there's an odd feeling of what are possibly fingers sliding into his mouth alongside Frank's dick, which... yeah, definitely fingers, because then Gerard elbows Frank's legs apart more and pushes the wet digits into him slowly.
Frank coughs abruptly and Gerard wiggles his hand, goes from two to three fingers, works him open as he flicks his tongue around, licks Frank's full length and swallows him down again. He mouths his way all around Frank's dick, right to the base and drags the tip of his tongue over Frank's balls.
"Fuuuuck," Frank drawls, tilting his hips into it and clutching at Gerard's hair. It's gotta be the weirdest feeling ever, to have Gerard poking around his ass, but at the same it feels so good; the stretch and burn and resistance.
It's funny, but also disappointing, to then see Gerard disappear through his legs completely, crouched down on the floor, but he slides up behind Frank and kicks the boxers away, presses his fingers over Frank's shoulder blades and moves him towards the bed. "Down," he says lightly, and it's comical timing when Frank trips on the discarded bed sheets and tumbles to the floor.
He's sat there, looking at his poor knees and wincing when Gerard kneels behind him and starts kissing the nape of his neck, sneaking a hand around him to find Frank's dick again. "You know what I wanted to do, right, Frank?" Gerard asks, kissing his way up to Frank's ear.
"Yeah," Frank answers, nervous but buzzing so hard he can't find the words to voice it. Knowing nothing's going to happen while he's sat like that he leans forward, stretching out to rest his elbows on the edge of the bed, and Gerard's right there behind him all the way, pushing up against and over him, a solid and comforting weight on his back, Gerard's dick, hard and a little slick where it's resting by the base of Frank's spine.
"Okay," Gerard says, rushed and eager, and then he runs his hands down Frank's back, admiringly squeezes his sides before he spits into his own open palm and hurriedly slides it over his dick.
Frank takes a deep breath as he feels Gerard fingers on his hip, the head of his dick pressing bluntly at his hole, and closes his eyes. He gasps as Gerard pushes forward slowly. The feeling makes him almost dizzy, hot and tingly like he'll maybe pass out, and he wishes he hadn't smoked so much, maybe it wouldn't feel so alien. But it hurts, too. Burns likes something his mind's too overloaded to remember, and he knows he should care but he just doesn't, because it's more intense than fingers and feeling so full is just amazing.
Gerard groans, low and thoaty and long, and it's so gutteral it makes Frank's stomach flip and his dick twitch. He bites down on his forearm to muffle the wordless moans and half-breaths as Gerard pulls back with an agonizing lack of speed, and thrusts forward in much the same manner. "You okay?" Gerard asks, mouth pressed between Frank's shoulder blades, and starts picking up a little speed, just enough to get a steady rhythm.
Frank just nods, "Mhmm," into his folded arms and clenches his fists tight, pushes back for more of the sensation that has him sweating already.
Gerard smiles though Frank can't see it, open mouthed, delirious, and slides his hands up Frank's arms to unfold them, smoothes his palms over the backs and laces their fingers together. It tugs them closer together, and Frank turns his head to the side, panting and breathing shaply with each snap of Gerard's body into his.
Gerard fucks him like that, knees aching and rubbing against the shoddy carpet, leaning down to kiss Frank, lick his cheek and bite at his jaw between each relentless jerk of his body. They're both sweaty and slick but Frank's relaxed, just going with the flow. Gerard's tense, pushing and squeezing, kissing Frank with everything he has while Frank tunes out from everything except the harsh slap of their skin connecting and thinks how much it sounds like pure fucking, pure lust and exctasy. His dick's throbbing, so hard and painful he can't bare it but Gerard doesn't let go, won't let go if his hands and somehow, in some crazy way it's almost like the most intimate sex Frank has ever had.
Licking the shell of Frank's ear, Gerard grunts and says, "Hold on, hold on for me," and Frank makes a few pained noises but closes his eyes and waits nontheless. Gerard tightens his grip on Frank's hands and uses them to push deeper, harder, making him sag forward even more, impossibly stretched out below Gerard's body.
And then he cries out, because Gerard hits something inside him that he can't explain and it makes Frank shudder and feel like he's just about to burst; tingly and amazing and fucking fantastic, the best feeling ever. Ever. Somewhere deep in his mind Frank knows it's his prostate, knows it, but never thought it would actually feel as good as Gerard once told him it did. Gerard grins into Frank's neck and keeps going there, drags his dick across it for a few thrusts, but only a few, as each time it makes Frank so tight around him it practically hurts.
He does it as he comes, aims for that spot as his body shivers and jerks and Frank whimpers at the feeling of it. "Please," Frank says, strained and tight, fighting against Gerard's fingers. Finally Gerard let's go, still fucking him as best he can before he has to pull out, and wrapping his hand around Frank's dick. The noises of pleasure and frustration tumble from Frank's lips as he thrusts into Gerard's fist, and a few swift pumps of his hand have Frank coming so hard Gerard has to pull out because his dick is too sensitive to stay put.
After he's come all he can, Frank collapses down onto the floor, breathing hard and grinning like his face is permanently fixed that way.
Exhausted, satisfied, Gerard drags himself to grab the sheets he'd thrown from the bed and then curls up behind Frank's back, wraps an arm around him and kisses his neck. Frank laughs but doesn't move. Can't move. Just lays there blissed-out as Gerard's face hovers over his and he leans down rest his head on Frank's shoulder.
It's only then that Gerard and Frank both look up at the odd shifting light coming through the small window and realize nobody closed the curtains. The person looking in notices too. Sees them both looking at him, and he runs off instantly.
"Shit!" Frank shouts, sitting up quickly and grabbing for his clothes, "who the fuck was that?!"
"I. Fuck, I don't know," Gerard lies, finding his own clothes. He thinks he recognizes the dude from one of the bands they just played with, but it's dark outside so he can't be too sure. The only thing he does know for sure is that he wants to find whoever it was before they find Mikey, or anyone else for that matter, and tells them what he saw. It's not that the guys'd have much of a problem with what they were doing, just that they were doing it together. He doesn't want a lecture about fucking up the band, or the fact that he happens to have a girlfriend back home, or that the girl working at Eyeball has a serious thing for Frank. Apart from that, it's just plain embarrassing. So Gerard tells Frank to have a shower, and goes out in search of the figure from the window before he crashes too bad.
CHAPTER: Sequel to Surfacing
AUTHOR: not0-fuckin-kay
PAIRING: Gerard/Frank
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: It's motel night, and Gerard's searches out something stronger than beer to get his confidence up in order to get close to Frank again.
DISCLAIMER: Not real, never happened.
WARNING: Mentions of drug use and drunkeness. Sex.
A/N: This, and the one previous, were born out of suggestions from, and dedicated to, my lovely Anon.
Previous: Surfacing
The next time it happens Gerard's off his face again. Only more so.
They'd had one last gig before heading home, just for a little while, and now that they had Brian on board he'd dedided they deserved a night out of the van once in a while. So the motel might have been on the cheap side, might've had peeling paper and stained carpet and shit coffee, but it had beds, in actual rooms, and that was pretty much as good as they'd gotten for a while.
So Brian let's them decide who's sleeping where in the double rooms he's booked, except for Mikey, who he declares he has to share with because Mikey's so far the only one yet to puke on him in the middle of the night. Frank settles into the room he has the key for, quite comfortably. He's got his cokes and his beers and a nice bowl of weed, and a bed to lie back and smoke on. It's relaxing and definitely welcome, even if he has nobody to share it with right now because Gerard is... off somwhere or other.
Four joints, a few beers, and a lot less clothing later for Frank (it's so hot, and can they please fix the air con?), he hears some scratching around the lock of the door and sighs. It's really gonna ruin the buzz if someone's trying to break in. He has fuck-all to steal, but he still hides the weed under the bad, just in case, and wanders slowly over to the door. The scratching's stopped, replaced by a few rapid knocks and a giggle.
"Gerard," Frank opens the door, and Gerard's there, leaning on the frame with the van keys in his hand, "you're stupid," he laughs, closing and locking the door. "Where've you..." he stops short of asking Gerard where he's been, because he's apparantly very tired, and pulling his clothes off like he can't do it fast enough. Then Frank just stares as Gerard unceremoniously starts tossing everything off of the bed, and only just about manages to pick up the ceramic dish he was using as an ashtray before that too, ends up on the floor.
Gerard takes it from him, dumps it on the small vanity unit, and when Frank touches his bare waist and asks, "Seriously, Gee, where you been? You okay?" Gerard presses Frank up against it and grins. That's when Frank sees just how wide Gerard's eyes are, how kind of clear but totally fucked he looks.
"Fighting monsters out back," is all Gerard offers in explanation before he latches his mouth to Frank's neck and slides a hand down into his boxers.
He's naked, Frank thinks, his hands flying to Gerard's shoulders, and he gasps when Gerard's fingers curl around his dick. He's not hard, barely even aroused at all, too surprised at Gerard's sudden enthusiasm, but too relaxed from how much he's smoked to really resist Gerard's man-handling of him. "I don't know what you're doin', Gee, but-"
"But?" Gerard asks, tearing himself away from Frank's neck, nipping along his jaw as he feels Frank slowly, slowly start to harden in his hand. "I wanted to do this again but I didn't think you'd. Dunno," he shakes his head, kissing Frank again and grinding against the top of his thigh. "Was too nervous," he says, and Frank grabs Gerard by his sides to bring him closer.
When Frank begins moving with Gerard, Gerard let's him for a few minutes, moving back to suck a pretty, purple speckled bruise at the bottom of Frank's neck. He bites down when Frank moans, "Fucking vampire," and finds another spot to mark by Frank's shoulder.
Then, "It's easier like this," Gerard says suddenly, falling to his knees, and he pulls the boxers with him, grins up at Frank for just a couple of seconds to mumble, "split a few beers and an eight-ball with Mikey and some guy," just before he starts sucking Frank's dick.
Frank can't really process what Gerard's said though, couldn't really understand it, just cradles the back of his head and thrusts his hips lazily. And Gerard's giving what is probably the single worst blowjob of Frank's life; too much teeth and too sloppy, too fast and enthusiatic, but then there's an odd feeling of what are possibly fingers sliding into his mouth alongside Frank's dick, which... yeah, definitely fingers, because then Gerard elbows Frank's legs apart more and pushes the wet digits into him slowly.
Frank coughs abruptly and Gerard wiggles his hand, goes from two to three fingers, works him open as he flicks his tongue around, licks Frank's full length and swallows him down again. He mouths his way all around Frank's dick, right to the base and drags the tip of his tongue over Frank's balls.
"Fuuuuck," Frank drawls, tilting his hips into it and clutching at Gerard's hair. It's gotta be the weirdest feeling ever, to have Gerard poking around his ass, but at the same it feels so good; the stretch and burn and resistance.
It's funny, but also disappointing, to then see Gerard disappear through his legs completely, crouched down on the floor, but he slides up behind Frank and kicks the boxers away, presses his fingers over Frank's shoulder blades and moves him towards the bed. "Down," he says lightly, and it's comical timing when Frank trips on the discarded bed sheets and tumbles to the floor.
He's sat there, looking at his poor knees and wincing when Gerard kneels behind him and starts kissing the nape of his neck, sneaking a hand around him to find Frank's dick again. "You know what I wanted to do, right, Frank?" Gerard asks, kissing his way up to Frank's ear.
"Yeah," Frank answers, nervous but buzzing so hard he can't find the words to voice it. Knowing nothing's going to happen while he's sat like that he leans forward, stretching out to rest his elbows on the edge of the bed, and Gerard's right there behind him all the way, pushing up against and over him, a solid and comforting weight on his back, Gerard's dick, hard and a little slick where it's resting by the base of Frank's spine.
"Okay," Gerard says, rushed and eager, and then he runs his hands down Frank's back, admiringly squeezes his sides before he spits into his own open palm and hurriedly slides it over his dick.
Frank takes a deep breath as he feels Gerard fingers on his hip, the head of his dick pressing bluntly at his hole, and closes his eyes. He gasps as Gerard pushes forward slowly. The feeling makes him almost dizzy, hot and tingly like he'll maybe pass out, and he wishes he hadn't smoked so much, maybe it wouldn't feel so alien. But it hurts, too. Burns likes something his mind's too overloaded to remember, and he knows he should care but he just doesn't, because it's more intense than fingers and feeling so full is just amazing.
Gerard groans, low and thoaty and long, and it's so gutteral it makes Frank's stomach flip and his dick twitch. He bites down on his forearm to muffle the wordless moans and half-breaths as Gerard pulls back with an agonizing lack of speed, and thrusts forward in much the same manner. "You okay?" Gerard asks, mouth pressed between Frank's shoulder blades, and starts picking up a little speed, just enough to get a steady rhythm.
Frank just nods, "Mhmm," into his folded arms and clenches his fists tight, pushes back for more of the sensation that has him sweating already.
Gerard smiles though Frank can't see it, open mouthed, delirious, and slides his hands up Frank's arms to unfold them, smoothes his palms over the backs and laces their fingers together. It tugs them closer together, and Frank turns his head to the side, panting and breathing shaply with each snap of Gerard's body into his.
Gerard fucks him like that, knees aching and rubbing against the shoddy carpet, leaning down to kiss Frank, lick his cheek and bite at his jaw between each relentless jerk of his body. They're both sweaty and slick but Frank's relaxed, just going with the flow. Gerard's tense, pushing and squeezing, kissing Frank with everything he has while Frank tunes out from everything except the harsh slap of their skin connecting and thinks how much it sounds like pure fucking, pure lust and exctasy. His dick's throbbing, so hard and painful he can't bare it but Gerard doesn't let go, won't let go if his hands and somehow, in some crazy way it's almost like the most intimate sex Frank has ever had.
Licking the shell of Frank's ear, Gerard grunts and says, "Hold on, hold on for me," and Frank makes a few pained noises but closes his eyes and waits nontheless. Gerard tightens his grip on Frank's hands and uses them to push deeper, harder, making him sag forward even more, impossibly stretched out below Gerard's body.
And then he cries out, because Gerard hits something inside him that he can't explain and it makes Frank shudder and feel like he's just about to burst; tingly and amazing and fucking fantastic, the best feeling ever. Ever. Somewhere deep in his mind Frank knows it's his prostate, knows it, but never thought it would actually feel as good as Gerard once told him it did. Gerard grins into Frank's neck and keeps going there, drags his dick across it for a few thrusts, but only a few, as each time it makes Frank so tight around him it practically hurts.
He does it as he comes, aims for that spot as his body shivers and jerks and Frank whimpers at the feeling of it. "Please," Frank says, strained and tight, fighting against Gerard's fingers. Finally Gerard let's go, still fucking him as best he can before he has to pull out, and wrapping his hand around Frank's dick. The noises of pleasure and frustration tumble from Frank's lips as he thrusts into Gerard's fist, and a few swift pumps of his hand have Frank coming so hard Gerard has to pull out because his dick is too sensitive to stay put.
After he's come all he can, Frank collapses down onto the floor, breathing hard and grinning like his face is permanently fixed that way.
Exhausted, satisfied, Gerard drags himself to grab the sheets he'd thrown from the bed and then curls up behind Frank's back, wraps an arm around him and kisses his neck. Frank laughs but doesn't move. Can't move. Just lays there blissed-out as Gerard's face hovers over his and he leans down rest his head on Frank's shoulder.
It's only then that Gerard and Frank both look up at the odd shifting light coming through the small window and realize nobody closed the curtains. The person looking in notices too. Sees them both looking at him, and he runs off instantly.
"Shit!" Frank shouts, sitting up quickly and grabbing for his clothes, "who the fuck was that?!"
"I. Fuck, I don't know," Gerard lies, finding his own clothes. He thinks he recognizes the dude from one of the bands they just played with, but it's dark outside so he can't be too sure. The only thing he does know for sure is that he wants to find whoever it was before they find Mikey, or anyone else for that matter, and tells them what he saw. It's not that the guys'd have much of a problem with what they were doing, just that they were doing it together. He doesn't want a lecture about fucking up the band, or the fact that he happens to have a girlfriend back home, or that the girl working at Eyeball has a serious thing for Frank. Apart from that, it's just plain embarrassing. So Gerard tells Frank to have a shower, and goes out in search of the figure from the window before he crashes too bad.