Don't make me choose. Gerard/Frank. NC-17.
TITLE: Don't make me choose.
CHAPTER: 1/?
PAIRING: Gerard/Frank, Gerard/Lindsey, Frank/Jamia.
RATING: NC-17
AUTHOR: not0-fuckin-kay
SUMMARY: Gerard gets pushed too far in an interview, and it leads to things he thought were forgotten between himself and Frank.
DISCLAIMER: Not real, never happened.
If there's one thing that being in the band has taught Gerard, it's that... well, there are a lot of things. And maybe it wouldn't be right on top of the list, but one of them, is that speaking your mind and not being afraid to voice your opinions, is definitely good if it can help others. He likes dispelling common myths about rock and how they relate to his band.
The whole notion of groupies... they're something he could never get his head around. When he was going to see bands-before and after being in one-he was never going to be the one offering up his dick or his mouth or his motherfucking ass to be used by some band he happened to think were amazing. Never. For the record, Billy Corgan would never have even had his ass. So one time, after the offer being directed at him by some half-dressed, half-drunk teen, he felt the need to take the poor girl somewhere a little quieter and sit her down, tell her why she was worth so much more than offering herself to someone in that way. It ended up being some kind of half hour long lecture about how any band who'd take advantage of their status that way didn't deserve the adoration in the first place, how she should tell her friends the same message and never, ever do that again. He did hug her though and sign her shirt, hoping at least some of what he'd said had gotten through.
So being asked about groupies by countless numbers of journalists got kind of irritating after a while, like maybe they all thought it was just for show, that they had some kind of groupie parties that just never got talked about. Most times he'd shrug it off and just explain, again, why they just weren't like that.
This particular day, they'd already done two photo shoots, and five interviews on top of that. One of them had been a phone interview, which, while Gerard liked to be able to just kick back in the bus or spread out on a hotel bed and not worry about whether he had appropriate clothing on, made it a lot harder to know whether his answers were being taken seriously without the eye contact and body language. Or even if the questions were serious.
When interview number six rolled around, it was in a small office, and they were all pretty tired, putting on their best 'this is our first interview of the day' faces and trying to just get through it. The lack of decent coffee was certainly getting to them though, and Brian had offered to go pick some up ready for when they were done. He'd figured it'd be safe to leave them, seeing as Worm was there, and they'd managed to keep themselves in check for the better part of the day; Frank had only behaved inappropriately once-grabbing a firm hold of Gerard's ass and licking his neck in the company of a few passing elderly women, and Bob had so far managed to not kick or knock any kind of photography equipment that Brian would have to try and hide in the expense account. Again.
They sat themselves in no particular order on the quite comfortable sofa. Mikey and Bob took the left and right side of Gerard, respectively, with Frank and Ray being sat at either end. It started smoothly enough. A few questions about the record, how they were enjoying playing it so far, and were they looking forward to Projekt Revolution?
Eventually it was all winding down and Gerard was getting a bit fidgety waiting for his coffee-and a smoke. Thanks to Brian deciding he'd rather they didn't show up reeking of smoke, as the car they'd travelled in was pretty small, and Frank agreeing because, "I am trying to quit,"Gerard hadn't managed a whole cigarette for almost two hours. It was alright to miss out due to playing a show, but just sitting on his ass? No fun. And he really couldn't see why Frank had been on Brian's side, anyway. The night before he'd grabbed Gerard unexpectedly by his face after his after-dinner cigarette, and shoved his tongue down Gerard's throat, breathing him in, nuzzling at his neck, his fingers. When asked why, he'd replied all breathy and flushed, "I know it's gross, but I haven't smoked in three weeks and you taste so fucking good."
Gerard had laughed. "So you only want me for my nicotine."
"Yeah," Frank licked at his lips, "I'm your nicotine groupie."
Gerard had slapped the side of Frank's head for that comment. He didn't even like joking about it really. Especially not where Frank was concerned.
So when the interviewer asked with a smirk, in a kind of 'this is off the record' way, "What about groupies? You guys must get those?" Gerard was unimpressed.
He went through the usual explaining, the others chipping in here and there, but it was mostly Gerard up on his soapbox again. He had to say most of it twice when asked again, "What? Never?" Which was annoying enough for Bob at least to start getting that itchy, twitchy leg. The one that liked to kick things. Gerard tried to be calm, patting Bob's knee to show he'd handle it. "Well," the interviewer laughed, pointedly turning his back to Frank (which was just plain rude in itself), and addressing Gerard in particular. "Who needs groupies anyway when you have bandmates," he nodded his head in Frank's direction, not even looking at him, "like that?" He laughed again, leaning forward to high five Gerard in some kind of jock-type way. Did this guy know anything about them at all?
Gerard extended his arm, leaning forward and grabbing the guy's wrist. Tight. "Don't ever," he said, calm and low so that anyone else would have to strain to hear, "imply that any of my band is around for my personal gratification, you stupid fuck."
Glancing behind him as Gerard let go and relaxed into the sofa again, smile more of a sneer, and seeing that one of his assistants was filming the interview from behind, had obviously given the guy the balls to keep going with the line of questioning. "Just saying, y'know? Making an observation. Like..." Mikey kind of tuned out to what the guy was saying because he could feel Gerard's fist clenching next to his thigh, more and more irritated by the second, and Frank tapping him on the shoulder, shooting around worried looks while Ray started texting someone Mikey assumes to be Brian. When he does start listening again the interviewer seems to have moved on to their look. Something about how it suits them, and Gerard's fist unclenches slowly, suddenly tightening up again at, "...it's gotta be pretty frustrating not having your wives and girlfriends around much, but I guess when the fancy takes you, the longer hair helps with the pretence, huh?" and the guy laughs. He's referring to Frank's hair, and Gerard's 'fancy', and before anyone can do anything about it, Gerard's doing something he'd usually be against.
"I might swear like a sailor, but I'm a fucking pacifist," he'd said once. He'd also said, "I don't like scrapping, but if someone crossed my family..."
Frank, was most definitely considered family.
So it's that, that has Gerard pouncing on the interviewer, knocking his chair back and landing on him, hands braced around his throat. "I didn't think I was your type," the guy tries to laugh, obviously enjoying the fact that it's been caught on camera.
"You fucking wish you were," Gerard spits, letting go of his throat and swinging an arm back. By the time Worm's managed to pull him away, the interviewer has a bloody nose and Gerard has a busted lip, and very, very red knuckles. "You fucking asshole!" Gerard shouts from Worm's grasp.
The interviewer wipes his nose on his sleeve and looks like he's about to faint-his assistant still filming. "Nice one, idiot. That's gonna look real good on you."
Which is when Bob steps in with a kick to the guy's side, before Worm has to leave Gerard with Mikey, Ray and Frank holding him back. Mikey manages to calm Gerard, or maybe he's faking to be let go, they're not taking the risk so all crowd around him until they get to the office door, at which point Mikey lures him outside with the promise of a cigarette handed to him by Frank. "Kept 'em for emergencies," he says. "I think this qualifies." Gerard has his own cigarettes, but other people's are always better, so he's not gonna turn it down.
Back in the office, Frank's kind of hovering in the corner, hands balled into fists at his sides and Ray can see he wants to do something, but he just looks sad more than anything. The interviewer's still sat on the floor, still trying to stop his nose bleeding, and Bob goes to the assistant. "Give it up," he says, hands held out and waiting. She looks to her boss who just laughs and tells her that if she likes her job she'll keep hold of the camera and go fetch security. Ducking her head she starts to walk away, but Worm stops her, taking the camera and removing the memory as gently as possible. It's not like he wants to scare her, but really, it's his job to protect the band, and if Gerard hadn't gone for the guy when he did, Worm certainly would've. Not that he'd condone it, of course.
"Breathe a word. Just one. And I'm coming back, okay? You brought this on yourself," Worm says, gathering the guys and herding them out of the building.
The first thing they hear as they get out, is Brian. "What the fuck, Gerard? You okay? What happened?" His mouth's going a mile a minute with questions no one can keep up with, and Gerard keeps saying he's sorry, stealing glances at Frank who's head's kinda down and turned away, Ray's arm around his neck. "Let's just get back to the hotel, and then we can make sense of this," Brian says, trying to take control and do his job. "Hang on, who were you fighting with?" he asks, deciding it's obviously not Mikey or Ray, but maybe Frank, because he's wearing a pretty guilty expression, or maybe Bob, because he looks too flushed and agitated to not be involved. He eyes them cautiously, and it's quite clear nobody wants to speak up.
"The interviewer," Worm says calmly, leading the three next to him over to the waiting car.
"The what? What got into you, man? You don't do that shit, you've never done that shit." Not even drunk. Though Brian doesn't say it. "I should go find him and-"
"Forget it, Bri," Worm calls from the car. "I've got the footage, it's not gonna be a problem."
Brian rubs at his neck, lips pressed tightly together. "Alright. Take those three back, I had to leave the coffees so we'll stop and get some on the way."
With the others quickly gone, Brian walks Mikey and Gerard a little way away from the building and checks Gerard over. "I don't think it needs a stitch," he says, looking at Gerard's lip carefully. He picks up Gerard's hand, studying it. "This is gonna bruise..."
"No shit, really?" Gerard snaps, pulling his hand away and lighting another cigarette. "They guy's lucky I didn't knock him the fuck out. If Worm hadn't-"
"Okay, look. Let's just get that coffee, and then we can talk this all through." He starts walking them to the curb, hailing a passing cab and opening the door for them to get in. Once their seated en route to the nearest place that does coffee, Brian looks past Mikey towards Gerard, raising his eyebrows. "Anyone gonna tell me what happened? Or do I have to guess."
"Nothing to talk about," Gerard says decisively. "The guy practically accused me of using Frank as my personal slut. He had it coming." Mikey nods in confirmation, and Gerard presses himself against the door, bringing his knees up to hide his head.
In the other car, Bob and Ray tried to get Frank to talk, say anything at all. "I'm fine, guys, honest. Just, feel bad for Gee. You know how much he hates that shit. You think he's okay? Or maybe Brian's giving him a hard time..." Frank leans his head in his hands, faking a yawn so as not to look odd sitting like that.
While Brian's out getting coffee, Mikey's sidekick starts ringing. "It's Lindsey." he says before answering, "you want her to call back?" Gerard doesn't get the chance to decide before Mikey's thrusting the phone towards Gerard's ear after telling her to hang on, but he thinks just hearing her voice for a while might just make him forget the hurt he saw on Frank's face.
"Hey," he says quietly, nodding his head before, "yeah, yeah I'm okay. Just, shitty day. What about you?" he asks. He wants to ask her to say something comforting, but after a minute just sighs and slumps into Mikey's chest, leaving the phone on his lap.
Mikey frowns, picking it up. It's obvious Gerard doesn't want to talk. When it gets to his ear, she's still talking. "...and it's always Way this, and Way that. I mean, I love you, you know that. But I have a fucking name, y'know? Ever since people found out we were together all I get is 'girlfriend of Gerard Way', and it wouldn't be so bad if it was just in reference to me, but they do it when they're talking about the band, too. Like, it's the thirties or something and I can't have my own identity. Fucking depressing! Baby? You there?"
Mikey clears his throat loudly before speaking. "Uh, sorry. Reception's real bad. Lost you for a minute. He'll call you back later, okay? Bye." He hangs up as Brian returns, shaking his head when he looks at Gerard.
When Gerard finally catches up with Frank, alone, it's late, and Bob's arranged between himself and Mikey to switch rooms, so that Gerard and Frank are staying together instead. They're only informed of it when Gerard's pushed into the room by his brother. "Fix it. Whatever's wrong with him, fix it," Mikey says quietly before leaving.
Frank's sitting backed up to the headboard of one of the single beds, picking at the three day old polish on his nails and flicking the chippings over the side. "I can, um, I can go..." Gerard says carefully, watching how Frank looks up at him a little desperate before shrugging.
"It's fine. Is your? Your lip?" he touches his own bottom lip, then gestures to Gerard's. "Looks sore."
Gerard says, "I'll live," inching closer until he's at the foot of the bed. "Are you? You're not, are you? You're not okay." Frank doesn't answer, just examines his nails closer and yawns.
"I'm pretty tired so... just gonna sleep. Night," he says, starting to try and arrange the covers even though he's not changed for bed.
Gerard moves around to the side and takes hold of one of Frank's wrists. "He was talking shit, Frankie. You know what he said's not true, right?" Frank just looks down at where Gerard's touching him like it burns, so Gerard lets go of him and sits on top to the covers instead. "It's not. It was all bullshit. What we..." he's not sure exactly how to phrase it. No one's ever said anything like that, and Gerard's still a little confused as to why Frank seems to be handling it so badly. "On stage and shit, it's not. You're not some kind of stop-gap until we get off the road, y'know? You're not. I'm not like that-"
"No?" Frank raises his head, not looking above Gerard's neck. "Sometimes... sometimes it. I don't know. Like, when you've had an argument with her, or you say you miss her... the show tends to get a little racier. I've noticed."
Gerard had noticed too, but. He didn't exactly think anything of it. And when presented with it like that, he's not sure what to make of it. "Oh," is all he says at first. Then, "So it did bother you then, what he said. You think I'm like that? You think I'm using you or something?" It hurts Gerard to think that, let alone say it out loud, because it's absolutely not like that. But it must at least seem that way to Frank or he wouldn't have been bothered by the guy's words. He doesn't care what some bastard journalist thinks, but he does care what Frank thinks.
"No. I don't think. You're... not on purpose," Frank admits. "I know you wouldn't." Slowly he pulls at Gerard's sleeve, bringing them closer together and wrapping one arm around Gerard's neck, the other around his middle in a tight hug that's instantly returned. "I was just being dumb."
Gerard presses his nose into Frank's neck, breathing in the grimey, filthy smell that's inhabited his hair almost 24/7 since he started growing it out. It's pretty gross and maybe a bit greasy, lank and falling in thin strands, but it's the same smell that invades Gerard's nostrils each time Frank shoves his head next to his cheek. Smells familiar and like home, and has Gerard relaxed in seconds. "It's not dumb," he says, pulling away just enough to be able to see Frank's face, feel his breath on his cheek. "I didn't think. I wasn't... I know it's different now but. I just assumed things could go on the same on-stage," he pauses for a minute, looking down between them, unable to hold Frank's gaze. He's pretty sure what he's about to say is better off in his head, but. "It made it easier, the not being with you. Made it feel a little less real that we could still be close, even just out there." It's quieter, softer and more caring than it had sounded in his head.
Gerard cringes a bit, not sure how Frank will react. Frank withdraws his arm slowly from Gerard's shoulder, leaving his fingers resting over the pulse at his neck, feeling it throb under the pads of his fingertips. Then he moves back up to the headboard, rubbing his fingers around the knee-hole in his jeans. "That's... same here, I guess. It's not like I don't love Jamia, just. This is you and me, and it's different. I don't think... I don't wanna not do that anymore, the stage stuff. Don't feel bad. It'll get easier, probably."
Gerard doesn't say anything, just gets up and walks to the end of the bed. Clearing his throat, he picks up the tv remote, holding it to his mouth like a mic and starts singing quietly, almost a whisper and really with so little resemblance to the actual song, it's more like he's reciting poetry. "If you were here, I'd never have a fear, so go on live your life," he starts crawling up the bed, and Frank's looking pretty confused, but listening intently. He keeps singing and moving and Frank puts his legs down. Gerard sits up on his lap.
Frank laughs. "What're you doing?"
"Performing. Shush," he says before continuing. "'Cause I mean this more than words can ever say... You're beautiful." At some point Frank's eyes had closed, his hands twitchy at his sides. "I'm gonna kiss you now, 'kay?"
"Since when do I get a choice in that?" Frank asks, but he's smirking and urging Gerard forward with a finger under his chin. As soon as their mouths touch Frank opens up underneath him, clutching a whole fist of Gerard's hair and angling their heads better as Gerard pushes into the kiss, wincing at the pain from his cut lip. It's over almost as soon as it begins, hard and fast. "We should do that more when we perform."
"I'd sing all the time to get to kiss you," Gerard replies. And it's not really a lie. Kissing Frank, just being close and holding him tight-having Frank's arms around him, stroking random strips of exposed skin, were some of Gerard's favourite things to do with Frank. But that's what he does with Lindsey now, what Frank does with Jamia, not what they do together anymore.
Sometimes Frank's jealous of Lindsey, but not purely for the obvious reasons. Mainly he's jealous that she gets the finished package; the Gerard that's been through shit and come out better the other side. The Gerard that's a little more confident in himself, has pulled himself together and doesn't plan on re-visiting who he used to be. Frank's jealous of that, because he did go through all of that with Gerard. With him and alongside him, supporting him the whole time, and yet she, is the one he's with. It's a fresh start for him though, and Frank wouldn't dream of denying him that. He just wants Gerard to be happy, and having someone around that isn't a constant reminder of his monumental fuck-up, seems to be doing that.
Frank smiles, slightly sadly, but he's trying. "Why'd you choose those words?" He's asking because he knows they weren't written about him, that the original context doesn't fit them.
Gerard strokes through Frank's hair, pulling the ends gently towards him and letting them fall from his fingers. He was hoping Frank would ask that. "Because when I sing them now, I think of you. We both have our lives to live but I still..." he doesn't say, "love you," can't, but he knows-he's sure-Frank can fill that in for himself. "I've never been good with words, not with you. And nothing would be good enough to explain anything I've ever wanted to tell you."
Frank sighs, pursing his lips as though he's deep in thought. "We can do this, y'know? There's a choice," Frank moves his hands to Gerard's waist as he speaks, rubbing his thumbs over his hip bones. "We can forget all this and just get on with things..." Gerard looks up at him, knowing it needed to be said, knowing it was true, but somewhat startled at actually hearing it. "Or, we can do this. Just us, nobody has to know. Secret." Frank can see the uncertainty in Gerard's expression, kisses it away quickly. "I know," he says quietly. "I hate the idea as much as you-for the same reasons-I don't want to live a lie, don't wanna lie to them. But ignoring it and hoping it'll go away is going to be lying just as much. I'll do it though," he leans forward, brushing their lips together, their noses. Feels Gerard's eyelashes flutter against his own. "I'll pretend I don't feel it, if you want me to."
Gerard's eyes are closed, and he makes no move to open them, just shakes his head slowly. "I can't. I can't forget it." He rolls his hips against Frank. "Our secret," he whispers. "I can do that."
Neither of them are hard, nowhere near, the last thing either had been thinking of was getting off, but it feels so good just to be close to each other, to have reached some kind of understanding. It's an end to the worry and hurt and dread both were feeling at realizing something they both wanted was slowly withering to an end.
Frank says, "Okay then," nods a little crazily, pushes Gerard back onto the bed, and he grimaces slightly, having to unfold his legs because of how they'd been tucked up next to Frank-who smiles an apologetic sort of smile. "So I take it Bob's staying with Mikey in the other room?" he asks, poking his toes up under Gerard's arms just to make him squirm. They're laying with Gerard's legs heavy over Frank's, and Frank's, well, under Gerard's and around his sides.
"Fucker. Stop it-it tickles!" Gerard swats him away, turning the top half of his body awkwardly to take one Frank's feet, just rubbing it gently between his fingers. "Feels good to clear the air," he says as Frank smiles and relaxes against the headboard, sliding his fingers under the bottoms of Gerard's pants, ghosting them lightly over his ankles. "You looked so sad earlier. Hate it when you're sad because of me."
"I'm fine now, 'kay," Frank says, sliding his hands away from Gerard's ankles and up over his legs, squeezing at his hips and tucking his fingers into the waistband of Gerard's pants. "I missed you." He sits up, bending himself up uncomfortably to push Gerard's shirt up with his nose and kiss his stomach. When he looks up, chin resting on his fingers, Gerard's smiling at him lazily. His easy, 'everything's okay' smile.
"Missed you too, Frankie," Gerard says, turning his head to kiss the side of Frank's foot. "Jesus, you need to change your fucking socks. Fuck," he laughs, and Frank just wiggles his foot next to Gerard's cheek. "That's gross, seriously."
Frank giggles, "Yeah, probably," but keeps doing it until Gerard raises his eyebrows at him to tell him enough is enough. He goes back to Gerard's pants, undoing them slowly, he looks up. He doesn't have to ask if it's okay, knows they're beyond that, and Gerard isn't objecting anyway. He's just laying there watching. He pulls them down, leaning back to get them all the way off of and chuck them onto the floor. He runs his hands all the way up Gerard's legs, slowly, like he's remembering the last time he saw him that way, the last time he'd undressed him just after Gerard and Lindsey had met up again after years-merely weeks after his disastrous long term relationship break-up. Gerard had been so vulnerable then, realizing during recording that he'd wasted six years on someone he felt he could easily live without. He looks vulnerable now, Frank thinks, but in a better way. A good way. Trusting and happy. When he gets to Gerard's thighs, his fingers touch the hem of his boxers, and Frank pauses. "Those are mine! You're wearing my underwear!"
"Am not!" Gerard says, sitting up on his elbows and blushing as he looks down and sees the, 'Big Frankie' stitched over the crotch. "Oh. Did I mention I missed you?"
"I stitched that myself, remember? Been looking for those everywhere. Now I know why I couldn't find them." He runs a hand over the lettering. He can remember that too, sitting in the back lounge having stitched 'Mikey Fuckin Way' into every piece of underwear Mikey owned. Even the expensive ones. Mikey hadn't been too pleased, but did make a point of laughing at how Frank had put 'Big Frankie' on his own, instead of 'little Frankie'.
He grins at the memory, only snapping out of it as Gerard squeaks out a tiny sound. Half gasp and probably half of some kind of word. He's still moving his fingers other the letters, over Gerard's crotch, and that's when he notices the hardening heat beneath his fingertips. It still gives him a thrill that he can do that to Gerard, makes his mouth water and his stomach flip. Gets him hard every time, too, just knowing Gerard is. "You want them back?" Gerard asks, quirking an eyebrow at him and tilting his hips into the touch.
"You know me too well," Frank takes the opportunity to pull them down and eventually off. "C'mere," he finds Gerard's hands at his sides and pulls him back up into his lap. A glimmer catches his eye as he touches Gerard's shoulder, and he takes off the ring he wears even though he and Jamia are technically not married, shoving it into his pocket. Gerard notices, but doesn't say anything, just waits for Frank's smile, his soft kiss.
He gets both, Frank immediately lifting him slightly so he can shuffle down the bed a bit. "What are-"
"Hands up there," Frank cuts him off, glancing up to the small window ledge. Gerard does as he's asked, and Frank gets a firm hold of his ass and pulls him up and forward, licking the tip of his cock as Gerard gets the idea immediately.
"Frank, please," he says quietly, hands gripping the ledge as he looks out over the city. There are people passing by, completely unaware of what's going on up in their room, and Gerard bends his head down and closes his eyes as Frank takes him in. He's not teasing, and Gerard's thankful for that. Instead he's being encouraged to move his hips, and it's beautiful to be able to open his eyes and see Frank down there, lips wrapped around him. It's like they never stopped doing this but at the same time he's reminded it's been long enough that it's really not going to last a very long.
Frank's sucking harder, pulling off enough that he can move his tongue around the head. He likes it this way, having Gerard pushing into his mouth because he wants it, hearing his breathless little moans as he does so. It's gives him a free hand, too, if he gets his arm more around Gerard. So that's what he does, and with his other hand, unbuckles his jeans to slip it inside. It's good to finally touch himself, so he's going for more, leaving Gerard to hold himself up so that he can get his fingers around his cock and get a little control over how far down his throat Gerard gets. Then he's just sitting back for a moment, taking in the sight of Gerard in front of him-above him. Gerard doesn't complain that Frank's taken a break to just stare at him, it's slightly relieving because he hasn't even touched Frank yet, and he'd really like to before he just comes all over him like he thinks he's going to. He squats down some, enough to hold Frank's head to his chest and press a kiss into his hair. He doesn't know why, he just has the urge to hold him.
Frank's hands make their way up Gerard's body, finding his face and tipping his own up so that he can look at him. "I know," he whispers, and Gerard's not sure what Frank knows, not sure if he knows it himself, but he figures it's something to do with the whole 'taking a break in the middle of giving/receiving head'. Maybe it's just overwhelming. Gerard only notices the hand in Frank's jeans when he tries to move it awkwardly past Gerard's leg, so that he can have both arms around his waist. He tries to reach down and touch Frank himself, and it's a weird position, but as soon as he gets a hand around him Frank moves it away. "Just let me, okay?" Frank says, hoisting him back up to take him in his mouth again.
Gerard can't really argue, can't really do anything but enjoy Frank's mouth on him. Frank has the best mouth ever, bar none. Gerard always thought so, anyway. He can't help it though, he wants more. More of Frank, more contact. It's been way too long since they did anything like this and if they don't work out how they discussed, he doesn't want it to end with Frank being the only one to do anything. His breath catches when Frank licks across his slit, but he moves a shaky hand down to one of Frank's, brings it to is lips and sucks a couple of fingers into his mouth. He knows Frank's looking up at him, can tell by the way his mouth's slightly slack around him.
Not making him wait too long for an explanation, he puts the wet digits to his ass and waits for Frank to understand. It only takes a moment before he feels the two fingers enter him together, and boy does it burn, but Frank's got his other hand around him, looking up at Gerard with one of his 'I'm a porn star' faces-the ones he makes on-stage, working him over with a loose fist as he stretches with his fingers. Gerard pushes down on Frank's hand, can't help moaning Frank's name as his fingertips grow white from how hard he's gripping the ledge again. "Want you, Frank. God, I want you so bad," he strains.
Frank hums in reply, pushing in deep a few times before taking his fingers out and wiping them on the sheets. As he sits back up he shoves his jeans down far enough to kick them off and bring them back up to fish out his wallet. "How do you want me?" he asks, getting a condom out of the wallet, and groping around for the lube he had stashed underneath his bed.
Gerard answers, "Like this, s'closer," raising his eyebrows at Frank's apparent supply stash.
"Habit," he shrugs at the condom. "And sometimes a guy's just gotta get off, okay?" He's laughing a little. Truth was that if Jamia had seen the size of the lube bottle he'd bought, she probably would've been worried about leaving Frank alone in the house, thinking he did nothing but jerk off or something. So he had to bring it with him. "At least I have this stuff. I don't see you offering up anything we could use." Frank shakes his head, it was a useless statement anyway. He was pretty sure Gerard and Lindsey weren't using condoms, so why would he have any on him? Frank wasn't sure exactly why he did himself, probably just habit like he'd said. He was always the one to carry them before. Maybe it was just his subtle way of keeping the memory of the two of them alive.
Gerard strokes Frank's cheek slowly, resting his thumb on the small mark left by his lip ring now that he wasn't wearing it, and moves off of him so Frank can see what he's doing. He watches Frank as he slides the condom on, slicking himself with lube. Bites down on his lip as he tries to decide how he wants to ride him. He's not sure, and Frank's ready, so he thinks he'll just go for something and see if Frank says anything to help him make up his mind. Positioning himself facing away from Frank, he gets one leg over before he's stopped.
"You said you wanted closer," Frank says, his hand gentle on the small of Gerard's back. "And I get a great view of your ass this way... I'd rather see your face though."
Gerard smiles, decision made. He turns and sits over Frank, up on his knees and cupping his face in his hands. He whispers, "That's why I love you," looking behind to make sure Frank's ready before slowly lowering himself down.
And there's the reminder again that it'd been a while. It's slightly more painful than he'd have liked, but Frank's not making a move to speed him up, just waiting patiently as Gerard lays his head on Frank's chest. He's stroking up and down Gerard's back under his shirt, whispering soothingly into his ear. "Take your time, okay? Long as you need. Just relax, love you," Frank pets at his hair, kisses the side of his head. "I never gave up on you, Gee. On us. Never..."
"Never," Gerard repeats, Frank fully encased inside him, and he lifts his head. He's sitting up a bit straighter, and the angle change is amazing. "God, Frankie, mmmm," he moves his hips around, remembering how good Frank always felt when they did this.
Only then does Frank allow himself to move, holding Gerard's hips and pushing up into him. He gets up couple of thrusts in before their faces are colliding, mouths opening and closing against each other's as they get some kind of system going; Gerard lifting up as Frank withdraws, and moving down to meet his thrusts coming up. "So fucking good, Gee, so fucking good," Frank pants, and Gerard fists his hands in Frank's hair, just behind his ears like he's using them as leverage as they kiss and he rolls his hips. "Slow down though, 'kay? Don't. Don't wanna rush this."
Gerard rubs their noses together, grinding down and sliding his tongue over Frank's parted lips. "Not rushing, just enjoying." He stops for a few moments though, just rocking against him, trailing one hand down Frank's chest and around to his back, hugs him close and gasps as Frank's still moving up into him. "This is my favorite," he declares, tipping his head back, Frank sucking at random patches of his throat, "just like this. You... an' me. Fucking love this."
"Yeah," Frank agrees. "Too hot though," He tugs his shirt quickly off, amazed either of them still had any clothing on at all, but it wasn't as if they'd been rushing to get where they were. Gerard looked down over the tattoos of Frank's chest. It still stung him slightly to see Jamia's name there, resting over his heart, but Frank was with him, so he didn't exactly have cause for complaint. "Come on, arms up, yours too," Frank pulls at Gerard's shirt until he lifts his arms and it's taken off, discarded with the rest of their clothes. "Better," he says, licking his lips. "Gorgeous, Gee, just like always." He licks the side of Gerard's neck and grabs his hips to pull him down.
Gerard groans, quirks an eyebrow at him, "we done with being slow?" Frank doesn't answer, just starts snapping his hips up, shoving his hand between them to wrap around Gerard's cock. "That's... a yes... then..." Gerard guesses, unable to decide which way he should be moving. He settles on just pushing down and letting Frank deal with the rest.
He deals with it pretty well, fisting his hand up and down Gerard just like he used to. He hasn't forgotten how Gerard likes it; a slight twist on the up every couple of strokes, lightly at the base and tighter coming up. Fast. He always liked it fast. Frank starts losing his momentum, his hand the only thing never wavering as his eyes fight to stay open. "C'mon. You're so fucking pretty when you come, wanna see it again."
It's harsh and ragged but Gerard can make out what he's saying. It makes him blush, which is ridiculous considering the context, but it's barely noticeable on his already flushed cheeks. He wants to come for Frank, so bad, wants it to be Frank that makes him. And it will be, he can feel it, deep, deep down, welling up like crazy butterflies desperate to get out. He's not so keen on Frank seeing his face though, Gerard knows he has a ridiculous sex face, all stupid eyes and tense jaw, like he's holding his last ever breath. There's no time to dwell on it though when Frank just fucks him harder, shifts a bit, really working for it. Gerard's there, right on the edge, biting into his lip and breathing heavily through his nose when Frank finds what he's been angling for, and it just sends him over the edge beautifully.
He's all high pitched and breathless at the same time, clinging to Frank's shoulders. Nothing he's moaning makes sense, but it doesn't matter, because Frank's still going, and his sex face is the best. Ever. He wants to kiss Frank, but that, he doesn't want to miss, so he just tries to relax his features and enjoy the come-down, riding it out however Frank needs him to. And he's not having to wait long before Frank's doing it, his fingers almost giving up their grip on Gerard's hips as he stutters around, knocking his head against the board behind him. His mouth's open, relaxed, eyes closed as he pants, comes, and drags Gerard down to him, sliding their tongues together and humming out the last of his climax into Gerard's mouth.
"Fuck," he says when they part, all croaky and a little broken. "You're one," he pecks Gerard's lips with his own, "sexy," and does it again, "motherfucker."
Gerard grins. Beams. That smile that lights up his whole face, bares his teeth. "I'm not the only one," he says, grabbing Frank's shirt to clean them up with. He really, really does not want to get off of the bed right now.
Frank narrows his eyes but doesn't complain. After all, he's the one who has a suitcase in the room with clothes he can change into. They grab their boxers and decide to swap beds anyway though. Frank gets in first, holding the covers back for Gerard, who has no choice but to lay half on top of him-not that either of them mind. Gerard's willing to lie, sit, or stand fucking anywhere if he can do it with Frank. But he has Frank's arms around him and Frank's legs warm against his own, so this is probably the best way they could be. "You wanna smoke with me?" he asks Frank, "I know you're quitting so I feel bad asking but... I could really use one right now."
"I can quit tomorrow," Frank says eagerly. "I haven't had a better reason to smoke since I started."
"Okay!" Gerard's excited, and it's stupid and he can't explain it, but he's super excited about sitting with Frank and just relaxing and smoking through their bliss together. Unfortunately it means getting up and getting his pants, so he does it quickly. Frank's sitting up, making a space for Gerard to sit in front of him and between his legs when he returns. Wrapping an arm around Gerard's chest, he sighs long and content at the first inhale of his cigarette, and Gerard relaxes back against him. One of their phones starts ringing, and Gerard quickly realizes it's his. "Shit. Probably just the guys checking we haven't killed each other or something." He leans over to fish it out of his pants, smiling as Frank plants a kiss on the back of his neck. "Hello?" he says, not bothering to check who it is.
"Hey honey, you feeling better now?"
It's Lindsey, and Gerard exchanges a look with Frank that he hopes explains that fact. "Yeah, yeah much better. Sorry about earlier." He doesn't sit back against Frank. What they've already done is enough of a betrayal. To be curled up in Frank's arms while talking to his wife would be too much on top of that.
"It's okay, I was just venting anyway. I miss you," she says sadly, and Gerard feels awful because really, he doesn't feel that bad, not as bad as he thinks he should.
"Miss you, too..." he replies, looking back at Frank, who makes a face in recognition, that he realizes who Gerard's talking to. He strokes his hand over Gerard's side to show him it's okay, it's gonna happen.
"Alright, well I'm gonna go, we're all going out for drinks. Just wanted to hear you voice."
"Okay... have a good time, be careful."
"I will, Gee. I will. You worry too much sometimes. Love you, baby."
Gerard wants to say it back, because he knows he should-he does-but he's not sure he can without it sounding fake. He tries, "You too, I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Lindsey says she'll call after breakfast and hangs up. Gerard sighs, out of relief or just worry, he's not sure.
Frank asks, "You okay?" pulling Gerard's hair out of his face and urging him back against his chest.
"I don't know, that was really weird."
"We okay?" he says, slightly nervous that Gerard's having second thoughts, and takes a last drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out on the side table.
Gerard has no second thoughts, just tips his head back and presses his lips just under Frank's jaw. "Better than okay," he answers, linking his fingers with Frank's over his stomach.
"We should probably talk about this," Frank waves his hand around. "Y'know? You can tell her you love her when she calls, I know you do, and she'll thinks it's weird if you don't say it." Gerard nods, it's all part of keeping the secret. He's not sure he wants to hear Frank say it to Jamia though. "And when we get back home... We can't. Gotta act normal."
Gerard knows Frank's talking about sex. It's only sensible they talk about this stuff so they don't fuck up, don't get jealous or hurt each other. "Can we not, I mean. So, we know it's gonna happen, but. We don't have to talk about it, right? I don't really wanna hear about when and where you guys do it."
Frank laughs, not unkindly, but, trust Gerard to think that needed explaining. "Of course not, same here. Come on, let's get some clothes on, show our faces with the guys, and then we can curl up and sleep. Sound good?"
"Sounds awesome," he smiles, a little relieved, and tears himself away to get dressed.
CHAPTER: 1/?
PAIRING: Gerard/Frank, Gerard/Lindsey, Frank/Jamia.
RATING: NC-17
AUTHOR: not0-fuckin-kay
SUMMARY: Gerard gets pushed too far in an interview, and it leads to things he thought were forgotten between himself and Frank.
DISCLAIMER: Not real, never happened.
If there's one thing that being in the band has taught Gerard, it's that... well, there are a lot of things. And maybe it wouldn't be right on top of the list, but one of them, is that speaking your mind and not being afraid to voice your opinions, is definitely good if it can help others. He likes dispelling common myths about rock and how they relate to his band.
The whole notion of groupies... they're something he could never get his head around. When he was going to see bands-before and after being in one-he was never going to be the one offering up his dick or his mouth or his motherfucking ass to be used by some band he happened to think were amazing. Never. For the record, Billy Corgan would never have even had his ass. So one time, after the offer being directed at him by some half-dressed, half-drunk teen, he felt the need to take the poor girl somewhere a little quieter and sit her down, tell her why she was worth so much more than offering herself to someone in that way. It ended up being some kind of half hour long lecture about how any band who'd take advantage of their status that way didn't deserve the adoration in the first place, how she should tell her friends the same message and never, ever do that again. He did hug her though and sign her shirt, hoping at least some of what he'd said had gotten through.
So being asked about groupies by countless numbers of journalists got kind of irritating after a while, like maybe they all thought it was just for show, that they had some kind of groupie parties that just never got talked about. Most times he'd shrug it off and just explain, again, why they just weren't like that.
This particular day, they'd already done two photo shoots, and five interviews on top of that. One of them had been a phone interview, which, while Gerard liked to be able to just kick back in the bus or spread out on a hotel bed and not worry about whether he had appropriate clothing on, made it a lot harder to know whether his answers were being taken seriously without the eye contact and body language. Or even if the questions were serious.
When interview number six rolled around, it was in a small office, and they were all pretty tired, putting on their best 'this is our first interview of the day' faces and trying to just get through it. The lack of decent coffee was certainly getting to them though, and Brian had offered to go pick some up ready for when they were done. He'd figured it'd be safe to leave them, seeing as Worm was there, and they'd managed to keep themselves in check for the better part of the day; Frank had only behaved inappropriately once-grabbing a firm hold of Gerard's ass and licking his neck in the company of a few passing elderly women, and Bob had so far managed to not kick or knock any kind of photography equipment that Brian would have to try and hide in the expense account. Again.
They sat themselves in no particular order on the quite comfortable sofa. Mikey and Bob took the left and right side of Gerard, respectively, with Frank and Ray being sat at either end. It started smoothly enough. A few questions about the record, how they were enjoying playing it so far, and were they looking forward to Projekt Revolution?
Eventually it was all winding down and Gerard was getting a bit fidgety waiting for his coffee-and a smoke. Thanks to Brian deciding he'd rather they didn't show up reeking of smoke, as the car they'd travelled in was pretty small, and Frank agreeing because, "I am trying to quit,"Gerard hadn't managed a whole cigarette for almost two hours. It was alright to miss out due to playing a show, but just sitting on his ass? No fun. And he really couldn't see why Frank had been on Brian's side, anyway. The night before he'd grabbed Gerard unexpectedly by his face after his after-dinner cigarette, and shoved his tongue down Gerard's throat, breathing him in, nuzzling at his neck, his fingers. When asked why, he'd replied all breathy and flushed, "I know it's gross, but I haven't smoked in three weeks and you taste so fucking good."
Gerard had laughed. "So you only want me for my nicotine."
"Yeah," Frank licked at his lips, "I'm your nicotine groupie."
Gerard had slapped the side of Frank's head for that comment. He didn't even like joking about it really. Especially not where Frank was concerned.
So when the interviewer asked with a smirk, in a kind of 'this is off the record' way, "What about groupies? You guys must get those?" Gerard was unimpressed.
He went through the usual explaining, the others chipping in here and there, but it was mostly Gerard up on his soapbox again. He had to say most of it twice when asked again, "What? Never?" Which was annoying enough for Bob at least to start getting that itchy, twitchy leg. The one that liked to kick things. Gerard tried to be calm, patting Bob's knee to show he'd handle it. "Well," the interviewer laughed, pointedly turning his back to Frank (which was just plain rude in itself), and addressing Gerard in particular. "Who needs groupies anyway when you have bandmates," he nodded his head in Frank's direction, not even looking at him, "like that?" He laughed again, leaning forward to high five Gerard in some kind of jock-type way. Did this guy know anything about them at all?
Gerard extended his arm, leaning forward and grabbing the guy's wrist. Tight. "Don't ever," he said, calm and low so that anyone else would have to strain to hear, "imply that any of my band is around for my personal gratification, you stupid fuck."
Glancing behind him as Gerard let go and relaxed into the sofa again, smile more of a sneer, and seeing that one of his assistants was filming the interview from behind, had obviously given the guy the balls to keep going with the line of questioning. "Just saying, y'know? Making an observation. Like..." Mikey kind of tuned out to what the guy was saying because he could feel Gerard's fist clenching next to his thigh, more and more irritated by the second, and Frank tapping him on the shoulder, shooting around worried looks while Ray started texting someone Mikey assumes to be Brian. When he does start listening again the interviewer seems to have moved on to their look. Something about how it suits them, and Gerard's fist unclenches slowly, suddenly tightening up again at, "...it's gotta be pretty frustrating not having your wives and girlfriends around much, but I guess when the fancy takes you, the longer hair helps with the pretence, huh?" and the guy laughs. He's referring to Frank's hair, and Gerard's 'fancy', and before anyone can do anything about it, Gerard's doing something he'd usually be against.
"I might swear like a sailor, but I'm a fucking pacifist," he'd said once. He'd also said, "I don't like scrapping, but if someone crossed my family..."
Frank, was most definitely considered family.
So it's that, that has Gerard pouncing on the interviewer, knocking his chair back and landing on him, hands braced around his throat. "I didn't think I was your type," the guy tries to laugh, obviously enjoying the fact that it's been caught on camera.
"You fucking wish you were," Gerard spits, letting go of his throat and swinging an arm back. By the time Worm's managed to pull him away, the interviewer has a bloody nose and Gerard has a busted lip, and very, very red knuckles. "You fucking asshole!" Gerard shouts from Worm's grasp.
The interviewer wipes his nose on his sleeve and looks like he's about to faint-his assistant still filming. "Nice one, idiot. That's gonna look real good on you."
Which is when Bob steps in with a kick to the guy's side, before Worm has to leave Gerard with Mikey, Ray and Frank holding him back. Mikey manages to calm Gerard, or maybe he's faking to be let go, they're not taking the risk so all crowd around him until they get to the office door, at which point Mikey lures him outside with the promise of a cigarette handed to him by Frank. "Kept 'em for emergencies," he says. "I think this qualifies." Gerard has his own cigarettes, but other people's are always better, so he's not gonna turn it down.
Back in the office, Frank's kind of hovering in the corner, hands balled into fists at his sides and Ray can see he wants to do something, but he just looks sad more than anything. The interviewer's still sat on the floor, still trying to stop his nose bleeding, and Bob goes to the assistant. "Give it up," he says, hands held out and waiting. She looks to her boss who just laughs and tells her that if she likes her job she'll keep hold of the camera and go fetch security. Ducking her head she starts to walk away, but Worm stops her, taking the camera and removing the memory as gently as possible. It's not like he wants to scare her, but really, it's his job to protect the band, and if Gerard hadn't gone for the guy when he did, Worm certainly would've. Not that he'd condone it, of course.
"Breathe a word. Just one. And I'm coming back, okay? You brought this on yourself," Worm says, gathering the guys and herding them out of the building.
The first thing they hear as they get out, is Brian. "What the fuck, Gerard? You okay? What happened?" His mouth's going a mile a minute with questions no one can keep up with, and Gerard keeps saying he's sorry, stealing glances at Frank who's head's kinda down and turned away, Ray's arm around his neck. "Let's just get back to the hotel, and then we can make sense of this," Brian says, trying to take control and do his job. "Hang on, who were you fighting with?" he asks, deciding it's obviously not Mikey or Ray, but maybe Frank, because he's wearing a pretty guilty expression, or maybe Bob, because he looks too flushed and agitated to not be involved. He eyes them cautiously, and it's quite clear nobody wants to speak up.
"The interviewer," Worm says calmly, leading the three next to him over to the waiting car.
"The what? What got into you, man? You don't do that shit, you've never done that shit." Not even drunk. Though Brian doesn't say it. "I should go find him and-"
"Forget it, Bri," Worm calls from the car. "I've got the footage, it's not gonna be a problem."
Brian rubs at his neck, lips pressed tightly together. "Alright. Take those three back, I had to leave the coffees so we'll stop and get some on the way."
With the others quickly gone, Brian walks Mikey and Gerard a little way away from the building and checks Gerard over. "I don't think it needs a stitch," he says, looking at Gerard's lip carefully. He picks up Gerard's hand, studying it. "This is gonna bruise..."
"No shit, really?" Gerard snaps, pulling his hand away and lighting another cigarette. "They guy's lucky I didn't knock him the fuck out. If Worm hadn't-"
"Okay, look. Let's just get that coffee, and then we can talk this all through." He starts walking them to the curb, hailing a passing cab and opening the door for them to get in. Once their seated en route to the nearest place that does coffee, Brian looks past Mikey towards Gerard, raising his eyebrows. "Anyone gonna tell me what happened? Or do I have to guess."
"Nothing to talk about," Gerard says decisively. "The guy practically accused me of using Frank as my personal slut. He had it coming." Mikey nods in confirmation, and Gerard presses himself against the door, bringing his knees up to hide his head.
In the other car, Bob and Ray tried to get Frank to talk, say anything at all. "I'm fine, guys, honest. Just, feel bad for Gee. You know how much he hates that shit. You think he's okay? Or maybe Brian's giving him a hard time..." Frank leans his head in his hands, faking a yawn so as not to look odd sitting like that.
While Brian's out getting coffee, Mikey's sidekick starts ringing. "It's Lindsey." he says before answering, "you want her to call back?" Gerard doesn't get the chance to decide before Mikey's thrusting the phone towards Gerard's ear after telling her to hang on, but he thinks just hearing her voice for a while might just make him forget the hurt he saw on Frank's face.
"Hey," he says quietly, nodding his head before, "yeah, yeah I'm okay. Just, shitty day. What about you?" he asks. He wants to ask her to say something comforting, but after a minute just sighs and slumps into Mikey's chest, leaving the phone on his lap.
Mikey frowns, picking it up. It's obvious Gerard doesn't want to talk. When it gets to his ear, she's still talking. "...and it's always Way this, and Way that. I mean, I love you, you know that. But I have a fucking name, y'know? Ever since people found out we were together all I get is 'girlfriend of Gerard Way', and it wouldn't be so bad if it was just in reference to me, but they do it when they're talking about the band, too. Like, it's the thirties or something and I can't have my own identity. Fucking depressing! Baby? You there?"
Mikey clears his throat loudly before speaking. "Uh, sorry. Reception's real bad. Lost you for a minute. He'll call you back later, okay? Bye." He hangs up as Brian returns, shaking his head when he looks at Gerard.
When Gerard finally catches up with Frank, alone, it's late, and Bob's arranged between himself and Mikey to switch rooms, so that Gerard and Frank are staying together instead. They're only informed of it when Gerard's pushed into the room by his brother. "Fix it. Whatever's wrong with him, fix it," Mikey says quietly before leaving.
Frank's sitting backed up to the headboard of one of the single beds, picking at the three day old polish on his nails and flicking the chippings over the side. "I can, um, I can go..." Gerard says carefully, watching how Frank looks up at him a little desperate before shrugging.
"It's fine. Is your? Your lip?" he touches his own bottom lip, then gestures to Gerard's. "Looks sore."
Gerard says, "I'll live," inching closer until he's at the foot of the bed. "Are you? You're not, are you? You're not okay." Frank doesn't answer, just examines his nails closer and yawns.
"I'm pretty tired so... just gonna sleep. Night," he says, starting to try and arrange the covers even though he's not changed for bed.
Gerard moves around to the side and takes hold of one of Frank's wrists. "He was talking shit, Frankie. You know what he said's not true, right?" Frank just looks down at where Gerard's touching him like it burns, so Gerard lets go of him and sits on top to the covers instead. "It's not. It was all bullshit. What we..." he's not sure exactly how to phrase it. No one's ever said anything like that, and Gerard's still a little confused as to why Frank seems to be handling it so badly. "On stage and shit, it's not. You're not some kind of stop-gap until we get off the road, y'know? You're not. I'm not like that-"
"No?" Frank raises his head, not looking above Gerard's neck. "Sometimes... sometimes it. I don't know. Like, when you've had an argument with her, or you say you miss her... the show tends to get a little racier. I've noticed."
Gerard had noticed too, but. He didn't exactly think anything of it. And when presented with it like that, he's not sure what to make of it. "Oh," is all he says at first. Then, "So it did bother you then, what he said. You think I'm like that? You think I'm using you or something?" It hurts Gerard to think that, let alone say it out loud, because it's absolutely not like that. But it must at least seem that way to Frank or he wouldn't have been bothered by the guy's words. He doesn't care what some bastard journalist thinks, but he does care what Frank thinks.
"No. I don't think. You're... not on purpose," Frank admits. "I know you wouldn't." Slowly he pulls at Gerard's sleeve, bringing them closer together and wrapping one arm around Gerard's neck, the other around his middle in a tight hug that's instantly returned. "I was just being dumb."
Gerard presses his nose into Frank's neck, breathing in the grimey, filthy smell that's inhabited his hair almost 24/7 since he started growing it out. It's pretty gross and maybe a bit greasy, lank and falling in thin strands, but it's the same smell that invades Gerard's nostrils each time Frank shoves his head next to his cheek. Smells familiar and like home, and has Gerard relaxed in seconds. "It's not dumb," he says, pulling away just enough to be able to see Frank's face, feel his breath on his cheek. "I didn't think. I wasn't... I know it's different now but. I just assumed things could go on the same on-stage," he pauses for a minute, looking down between them, unable to hold Frank's gaze. He's pretty sure what he's about to say is better off in his head, but. "It made it easier, the not being with you. Made it feel a little less real that we could still be close, even just out there." It's quieter, softer and more caring than it had sounded in his head.
Gerard cringes a bit, not sure how Frank will react. Frank withdraws his arm slowly from Gerard's shoulder, leaving his fingers resting over the pulse at his neck, feeling it throb under the pads of his fingertips. Then he moves back up to the headboard, rubbing his fingers around the knee-hole in his jeans. "That's... same here, I guess. It's not like I don't love Jamia, just. This is you and me, and it's different. I don't think... I don't wanna not do that anymore, the stage stuff. Don't feel bad. It'll get easier, probably."
Gerard doesn't say anything, just gets up and walks to the end of the bed. Clearing his throat, he picks up the tv remote, holding it to his mouth like a mic and starts singing quietly, almost a whisper and really with so little resemblance to the actual song, it's more like he's reciting poetry. "If you were here, I'd never have a fear, so go on live your life," he starts crawling up the bed, and Frank's looking pretty confused, but listening intently. He keeps singing and moving and Frank puts his legs down. Gerard sits up on his lap.
Frank laughs. "What're you doing?"
"Performing. Shush," he says before continuing. "'Cause I mean this more than words can ever say... You're beautiful." At some point Frank's eyes had closed, his hands twitchy at his sides. "I'm gonna kiss you now, 'kay?"
"Since when do I get a choice in that?" Frank asks, but he's smirking and urging Gerard forward with a finger under his chin. As soon as their mouths touch Frank opens up underneath him, clutching a whole fist of Gerard's hair and angling their heads better as Gerard pushes into the kiss, wincing at the pain from his cut lip. It's over almost as soon as it begins, hard and fast. "We should do that more when we perform."
"I'd sing all the time to get to kiss you," Gerard replies. And it's not really a lie. Kissing Frank, just being close and holding him tight-having Frank's arms around him, stroking random strips of exposed skin, were some of Gerard's favourite things to do with Frank. But that's what he does with Lindsey now, what Frank does with Jamia, not what they do together anymore.
Sometimes Frank's jealous of Lindsey, but not purely for the obvious reasons. Mainly he's jealous that she gets the finished package; the Gerard that's been through shit and come out better the other side. The Gerard that's a little more confident in himself, has pulled himself together and doesn't plan on re-visiting who he used to be. Frank's jealous of that, because he did go through all of that with Gerard. With him and alongside him, supporting him the whole time, and yet she, is the one he's with. It's a fresh start for him though, and Frank wouldn't dream of denying him that. He just wants Gerard to be happy, and having someone around that isn't a constant reminder of his monumental fuck-up, seems to be doing that.
Frank smiles, slightly sadly, but he's trying. "Why'd you choose those words?" He's asking because he knows they weren't written about him, that the original context doesn't fit them.
Gerard strokes through Frank's hair, pulling the ends gently towards him and letting them fall from his fingers. He was hoping Frank would ask that. "Because when I sing them now, I think of you. We both have our lives to live but I still..." he doesn't say, "love you," can't, but he knows-he's sure-Frank can fill that in for himself. "I've never been good with words, not with you. And nothing would be good enough to explain anything I've ever wanted to tell you."
Frank sighs, pursing his lips as though he's deep in thought. "We can do this, y'know? There's a choice," Frank moves his hands to Gerard's waist as he speaks, rubbing his thumbs over his hip bones. "We can forget all this and just get on with things..." Gerard looks up at him, knowing it needed to be said, knowing it was true, but somewhat startled at actually hearing it. "Or, we can do this. Just us, nobody has to know. Secret." Frank can see the uncertainty in Gerard's expression, kisses it away quickly. "I know," he says quietly. "I hate the idea as much as you-for the same reasons-I don't want to live a lie, don't wanna lie to them. But ignoring it and hoping it'll go away is going to be lying just as much. I'll do it though," he leans forward, brushing their lips together, their noses. Feels Gerard's eyelashes flutter against his own. "I'll pretend I don't feel it, if you want me to."
Gerard's eyes are closed, and he makes no move to open them, just shakes his head slowly. "I can't. I can't forget it." He rolls his hips against Frank. "Our secret," he whispers. "I can do that."
Neither of them are hard, nowhere near, the last thing either had been thinking of was getting off, but it feels so good just to be close to each other, to have reached some kind of understanding. It's an end to the worry and hurt and dread both were feeling at realizing something they both wanted was slowly withering to an end.
Frank says, "Okay then," nods a little crazily, pushes Gerard back onto the bed, and he grimaces slightly, having to unfold his legs because of how they'd been tucked up next to Frank-who smiles an apologetic sort of smile. "So I take it Bob's staying with Mikey in the other room?" he asks, poking his toes up under Gerard's arms just to make him squirm. They're laying with Gerard's legs heavy over Frank's, and Frank's, well, under Gerard's and around his sides.
"Fucker. Stop it-it tickles!" Gerard swats him away, turning the top half of his body awkwardly to take one Frank's feet, just rubbing it gently between his fingers. "Feels good to clear the air," he says as Frank smiles and relaxes against the headboard, sliding his fingers under the bottoms of Gerard's pants, ghosting them lightly over his ankles. "You looked so sad earlier. Hate it when you're sad because of me."
"I'm fine now, 'kay," Frank says, sliding his hands away from Gerard's ankles and up over his legs, squeezing at his hips and tucking his fingers into the waistband of Gerard's pants. "I missed you." He sits up, bending himself up uncomfortably to push Gerard's shirt up with his nose and kiss his stomach. When he looks up, chin resting on his fingers, Gerard's smiling at him lazily. His easy, 'everything's okay' smile.
"Missed you too, Frankie," Gerard says, turning his head to kiss the side of Frank's foot. "Jesus, you need to change your fucking socks. Fuck," he laughs, and Frank just wiggles his foot next to Gerard's cheek. "That's gross, seriously."
Frank giggles, "Yeah, probably," but keeps doing it until Gerard raises his eyebrows at him to tell him enough is enough. He goes back to Gerard's pants, undoing them slowly, he looks up. He doesn't have to ask if it's okay, knows they're beyond that, and Gerard isn't objecting anyway. He's just laying there watching. He pulls them down, leaning back to get them all the way off of and chuck them onto the floor. He runs his hands all the way up Gerard's legs, slowly, like he's remembering the last time he saw him that way, the last time he'd undressed him just after Gerard and Lindsey had met up again after years-merely weeks after his disastrous long term relationship break-up. Gerard had been so vulnerable then, realizing during recording that he'd wasted six years on someone he felt he could easily live without. He looks vulnerable now, Frank thinks, but in a better way. A good way. Trusting and happy. When he gets to Gerard's thighs, his fingers touch the hem of his boxers, and Frank pauses. "Those are mine! You're wearing my underwear!"
"Am not!" Gerard says, sitting up on his elbows and blushing as he looks down and sees the, 'Big Frankie' stitched over the crotch. "Oh. Did I mention I missed you?"
"I stitched that myself, remember? Been looking for those everywhere. Now I know why I couldn't find them." He runs a hand over the lettering. He can remember that too, sitting in the back lounge having stitched 'Mikey Fuckin Way' into every piece of underwear Mikey owned. Even the expensive ones. Mikey hadn't been too pleased, but did make a point of laughing at how Frank had put 'Big Frankie' on his own, instead of 'little Frankie'.
He grins at the memory, only snapping out of it as Gerard squeaks out a tiny sound. Half gasp and probably half of some kind of word. He's still moving his fingers other the letters, over Gerard's crotch, and that's when he notices the hardening heat beneath his fingertips. It still gives him a thrill that he can do that to Gerard, makes his mouth water and his stomach flip. Gets him hard every time, too, just knowing Gerard is. "You want them back?" Gerard asks, quirking an eyebrow at him and tilting his hips into the touch.
"You know me too well," Frank takes the opportunity to pull them down and eventually off. "C'mere," he finds Gerard's hands at his sides and pulls him back up into his lap. A glimmer catches his eye as he touches Gerard's shoulder, and he takes off the ring he wears even though he and Jamia are technically not married, shoving it into his pocket. Gerard notices, but doesn't say anything, just waits for Frank's smile, his soft kiss.
He gets both, Frank immediately lifting him slightly so he can shuffle down the bed a bit. "What are-"
"Hands up there," Frank cuts him off, glancing up to the small window ledge. Gerard does as he's asked, and Frank gets a firm hold of his ass and pulls him up and forward, licking the tip of his cock as Gerard gets the idea immediately.
"Frank, please," he says quietly, hands gripping the ledge as he looks out over the city. There are people passing by, completely unaware of what's going on up in their room, and Gerard bends his head down and closes his eyes as Frank takes him in. He's not teasing, and Gerard's thankful for that. Instead he's being encouraged to move his hips, and it's beautiful to be able to open his eyes and see Frank down there, lips wrapped around him. It's like they never stopped doing this but at the same time he's reminded it's been long enough that it's really not going to last a very long.
Frank's sucking harder, pulling off enough that he can move his tongue around the head. He likes it this way, having Gerard pushing into his mouth because he wants it, hearing his breathless little moans as he does so. It's gives him a free hand, too, if he gets his arm more around Gerard. So that's what he does, and with his other hand, unbuckles his jeans to slip it inside. It's good to finally touch himself, so he's going for more, leaving Gerard to hold himself up so that he can get his fingers around his cock and get a little control over how far down his throat Gerard gets. Then he's just sitting back for a moment, taking in the sight of Gerard in front of him-above him. Gerard doesn't complain that Frank's taken a break to just stare at him, it's slightly relieving because he hasn't even touched Frank yet, and he'd really like to before he just comes all over him like he thinks he's going to. He squats down some, enough to hold Frank's head to his chest and press a kiss into his hair. He doesn't know why, he just has the urge to hold him.
Frank's hands make their way up Gerard's body, finding his face and tipping his own up so that he can look at him. "I know," he whispers, and Gerard's not sure what Frank knows, not sure if he knows it himself, but he figures it's something to do with the whole 'taking a break in the middle of giving/receiving head'. Maybe it's just overwhelming. Gerard only notices the hand in Frank's jeans when he tries to move it awkwardly past Gerard's leg, so that he can have both arms around his waist. He tries to reach down and touch Frank himself, and it's a weird position, but as soon as he gets a hand around him Frank moves it away. "Just let me, okay?" Frank says, hoisting him back up to take him in his mouth again.
Gerard can't really argue, can't really do anything but enjoy Frank's mouth on him. Frank has the best mouth ever, bar none. Gerard always thought so, anyway. He can't help it though, he wants more. More of Frank, more contact. It's been way too long since they did anything like this and if they don't work out how they discussed, he doesn't want it to end with Frank being the only one to do anything. His breath catches when Frank licks across his slit, but he moves a shaky hand down to one of Frank's, brings it to is lips and sucks a couple of fingers into his mouth. He knows Frank's looking up at him, can tell by the way his mouth's slightly slack around him.
Not making him wait too long for an explanation, he puts the wet digits to his ass and waits for Frank to understand. It only takes a moment before he feels the two fingers enter him together, and boy does it burn, but Frank's got his other hand around him, looking up at Gerard with one of his 'I'm a porn star' faces-the ones he makes on-stage, working him over with a loose fist as he stretches with his fingers. Gerard pushes down on Frank's hand, can't help moaning Frank's name as his fingertips grow white from how hard he's gripping the ledge again. "Want you, Frank. God, I want you so bad," he strains.
Frank hums in reply, pushing in deep a few times before taking his fingers out and wiping them on the sheets. As he sits back up he shoves his jeans down far enough to kick them off and bring them back up to fish out his wallet. "How do you want me?" he asks, getting a condom out of the wallet, and groping around for the lube he had stashed underneath his bed.
Gerard answers, "Like this, s'closer," raising his eyebrows at Frank's apparent supply stash.
"Habit," he shrugs at the condom. "And sometimes a guy's just gotta get off, okay?" He's laughing a little. Truth was that if Jamia had seen the size of the lube bottle he'd bought, she probably would've been worried about leaving Frank alone in the house, thinking he did nothing but jerk off or something. So he had to bring it with him. "At least I have this stuff. I don't see you offering up anything we could use." Frank shakes his head, it was a useless statement anyway. He was pretty sure Gerard and Lindsey weren't using condoms, so why would he have any on him? Frank wasn't sure exactly why he did himself, probably just habit like he'd said. He was always the one to carry them before. Maybe it was just his subtle way of keeping the memory of the two of them alive.
Gerard strokes Frank's cheek slowly, resting his thumb on the small mark left by his lip ring now that he wasn't wearing it, and moves off of him so Frank can see what he's doing. He watches Frank as he slides the condom on, slicking himself with lube. Bites down on his lip as he tries to decide how he wants to ride him. He's not sure, and Frank's ready, so he thinks he'll just go for something and see if Frank says anything to help him make up his mind. Positioning himself facing away from Frank, he gets one leg over before he's stopped.
"You said you wanted closer," Frank says, his hand gentle on the small of Gerard's back. "And I get a great view of your ass this way... I'd rather see your face though."
Gerard smiles, decision made. He turns and sits over Frank, up on his knees and cupping his face in his hands. He whispers, "That's why I love you," looking behind to make sure Frank's ready before slowly lowering himself down.
And there's the reminder again that it'd been a while. It's slightly more painful than he'd have liked, but Frank's not making a move to speed him up, just waiting patiently as Gerard lays his head on Frank's chest. He's stroking up and down Gerard's back under his shirt, whispering soothingly into his ear. "Take your time, okay? Long as you need. Just relax, love you," Frank pets at his hair, kisses the side of his head. "I never gave up on you, Gee. On us. Never..."
"Never," Gerard repeats, Frank fully encased inside him, and he lifts his head. He's sitting up a bit straighter, and the angle change is amazing. "God, Frankie, mmmm," he moves his hips around, remembering how good Frank always felt when they did this.
Only then does Frank allow himself to move, holding Gerard's hips and pushing up into him. He gets up couple of thrusts in before their faces are colliding, mouths opening and closing against each other's as they get some kind of system going; Gerard lifting up as Frank withdraws, and moving down to meet his thrusts coming up. "So fucking good, Gee, so fucking good," Frank pants, and Gerard fists his hands in Frank's hair, just behind his ears like he's using them as leverage as they kiss and he rolls his hips. "Slow down though, 'kay? Don't. Don't wanna rush this."
Gerard rubs their noses together, grinding down and sliding his tongue over Frank's parted lips. "Not rushing, just enjoying." He stops for a few moments though, just rocking against him, trailing one hand down Frank's chest and around to his back, hugs him close and gasps as Frank's still moving up into him. "This is my favorite," he declares, tipping his head back, Frank sucking at random patches of his throat, "just like this. You... an' me. Fucking love this."
"Yeah," Frank agrees. "Too hot though," He tugs his shirt quickly off, amazed either of them still had any clothing on at all, but it wasn't as if they'd been rushing to get where they were. Gerard looked down over the tattoos of Frank's chest. It still stung him slightly to see Jamia's name there, resting over his heart, but Frank was with him, so he didn't exactly have cause for complaint. "Come on, arms up, yours too," Frank pulls at Gerard's shirt until he lifts his arms and it's taken off, discarded with the rest of their clothes. "Better," he says, licking his lips. "Gorgeous, Gee, just like always." He licks the side of Gerard's neck and grabs his hips to pull him down.
Gerard groans, quirks an eyebrow at him, "we done with being slow?" Frank doesn't answer, just starts snapping his hips up, shoving his hand between them to wrap around Gerard's cock. "That's... a yes... then..." Gerard guesses, unable to decide which way he should be moving. He settles on just pushing down and letting Frank deal with the rest.
He deals with it pretty well, fisting his hand up and down Gerard just like he used to. He hasn't forgotten how Gerard likes it; a slight twist on the up every couple of strokes, lightly at the base and tighter coming up. Fast. He always liked it fast. Frank starts losing his momentum, his hand the only thing never wavering as his eyes fight to stay open. "C'mon. You're so fucking pretty when you come, wanna see it again."
It's harsh and ragged but Gerard can make out what he's saying. It makes him blush, which is ridiculous considering the context, but it's barely noticeable on his already flushed cheeks. He wants to come for Frank, so bad, wants it to be Frank that makes him. And it will be, he can feel it, deep, deep down, welling up like crazy butterflies desperate to get out. He's not so keen on Frank seeing his face though, Gerard knows he has a ridiculous sex face, all stupid eyes and tense jaw, like he's holding his last ever breath. There's no time to dwell on it though when Frank just fucks him harder, shifts a bit, really working for it. Gerard's there, right on the edge, biting into his lip and breathing heavily through his nose when Frank finds what he's been angling for, and it just sends him over the edge beautifully.
He's all high pitched and breathless at the same time, clinging to Frank's shoulders. Nothing he's moaning makes sense, but it doesn't matter, because Frank's still going, and his sex face is the best. Ever. He wants to kiss Frank, but that, he doesn't want to miss, so he just tries to relax his features and enjoy the come-down, riding it out however Frank needs him to. And he's not having to wait long before Frank's doing it, his fingers almost giving up their grip on Gerard's hips as he stutters around, knocking his head against the board behind him. His mouth's open, relaxed, eyes closed as he pants, comes, and drags Gerard down to him, sliding their tongues together and humming out the last of his climax into Gerard's mouth.
"Fuck," he says when they part, all croaky and a little broken. "You're one," he pecks Gerard's lips with his own, "sexy," and does it again, "motherfucker."
Gerard grins. Beams. That smile that lights up his whole face, bares his teeth. "I'm not the only one," he says, grabbing Frank's shirt to clean them up with. He really, really does not want to get off of the bed right now.
Frank narrows his eyes but doesn't complain. After all, he's the one who has a suitcase in the room with clothes he can change into. They grab their boxers and decide to swap beds anyway though. Frank gets in first, holding the covers back for Gerard, who has no choice but to lay half on top of him-not that either of them mind. Gerard's willing to lie, sit, or stand fucking anywhere if he can do it with Frank. But he has Frank's arms around him and Frank's legs warm against his own, so this is probably the best way they could be. "You wanna smoke with me?" he asks Frank, "I know you're quitting so I feel bad asking but... I could really use one right now."
"I can quit tomorrow," Frank says eagerly. "I haven't had a better reason to smoke since I started."
"Okay!" Gerard's excited, and it's stupid and he can't explain it, but he's super excited about sitting with Frank and just relaxing and smoking through their bliss together. Unfortunately it means getting up and getting his pants, so he does it quickly. Frank's sitting up, making a space for Gerard to sit in front of him and between his legs when he returns. Wrapping an arm around Gerard's chest, he sighs long and content at the first inhale of his cigarette, and Gerard relaxes back against him. One of their phones starts ringing, and Gerard quickly realizes it's his. "Shit. Probably just the guys checking we haven't killed each other or something." He leans over to fish it out of his pants, smiling as Frank plants a kiss on the back of his neck. "Hello?" he says, not bothering to check who it is.
"Hey honey, you feeling better now?"
It's Lindsey, and Gerard exchanges a look with Frank that he hopes explains that fact. "Yeah, yeah much better. Sorry about earlier." He doesn't sit back against Frank. What they've already done is enough of a betrayal. To be curled up in Frank's arms while talking to his wife would be too much on top of that.
"It's okay, I was just venting anyway. I miss you," she says sadly, and Gerard feels awful because really, he doesn't feel that bad, not as bad as he thinks he should.
"Miss you, too..." he replies, looking back at Frank, who makes a face in recognition, that he realizes who Gerard's talking to. He strokes his hand over Gerard's side to show him it's okay, it's gonna happen.
"Alright, well I'm gonna go, we're all going out for drinks. Just wanted to hear you voice."
"Okay... have a good time, be careful."
"I will, Gee. I will. You worry too much sometimes. Love you, baby."
Gerard wants to say it back, because he knows he should-he does-but he's not sure he can without it sounding fake. He tries, "You too, I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Lindsey says she'll call after breakfast and hangs up. Gerard sighs, out of relief or just worry, he's not sure.
Frank asks, "You okay?" pulling Gerard's hair out of his face and urging him back against his chest.
"I don't know, that was really weird."
"We okay?" he says, slightly nervous that Gerard's having second thoughts, and takes a last drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out on the side table.
Gerard has no second thoughts, just tips his head back and presses his lips just under Frank's jaw. "Better than okay," he answers, linking his fingers with Frank's over his stomach.
"We should probably talk about this," Frank waves his hand around. "Y'know? You can tell her you love her when she calls, I know you do, and she'll thinks it's weird if you don't say it." Gerard nods, it's all part of keeping the secret. He's not sure he wants to hear Frank say it to Jamia though. "And when we get back home... We can't. Gotta act normal."
Gerard knows Frank's talking about sex. It's only sensible they talk about this stuff so they don't fuck up, don't get jealous or hurt each other. "Can we not, I mean. So, we know it's gonna happen, but. We don't have to talk about it, right? I don't really wanna hear about when and where you guys do it."
Frank laughs, not unkindly, but, trust Gerard to think that needed explaining. "Of course not, same here. Come on, let's get some clothes on, show our faces with the guys, and then we can curl up and sleep. Sound good?"
"Sounds awesome," he smiles, a little relieved, and tears himself away to get dressed.