At His Most Agreeable [gerard/frank][s/a]
Title: At His Most Agreeable
Pairing/Character(s): Gerard Way/Frank Iero
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Gerard looks like he’s going to say something but bites his lip and holds it back, instead diving across the couch. He grabs Frank’s collar and kisses him, hard. Frank laughs for a split second before they’re stuck together, Frank against the couch and Gerard pushing his hand up his shirt.
Warning: None
Beta: camatie
Word Count: 2,320
A/N: For the anon_lovefest prompt: Frank has fucked a lot of guys. He's not about to let someone fuck him though, that's entirely different. Frank's first time bottoming. It got a little long, so I kind of wanted to post it for real. Thanks to camatie for catching sloppy mistakes :)
“No.”
Gerard narrows his eyes and scowls, but says no more.
--
“Please?”
This time, Gerard leans his head on Frank’s shoulder, tilting his chin up and smiling that stupid smile he knows no one can resist. He flutters his eyelashes thrice for effect.
“Hmmm…”
Gerard tries to keep his grin to himself.
“Nope.”
Frank wraps an arm around Gerard’s shoulder and squeezes, kissing his hair. “Keep trying, buddy, you’re not getting anywhere.”
Gerard mutters something inaudible and sinks his teeth into Frank’s neck. Frank barely twitches.
--
“Why not?”
Frank shrugs and crosses his leg over his opposite knee. “I dunno,” he admits, crossing his arms over his chest to match. “It’s just - it’s not…me. At all.” Frank blanches.
Gerard just rolls his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s called trying new things! C’mon, Frankie, you’ve never let me top with you.”
“Yeah, and I’ve never let anyone else top with me either, so it’s not like you’re a special case.” Gerard huffs. “Oh, don’t look at me like that and stop being such a fucking pussy. You love being fucked. Especially by me.”
Gerard looks like he’s going to say something but bites his lip and holds it back, instead diving across the couch. He grabs Frank’s collar and kisses him, hard. Frank laughs for a split second before they’re stuck together, Frank against the couch and Gerard pushing his hand up his shirt.
--
“Shut the fuck up, I’m taking a shower.”
Frank pouts a bit and then shrugs. “Whatever, dude,” he mutters and he falls down on the hotel bed. He personally hates hotel nights, because hotels are disgusting. He loves being cramped in the stupid bunks, to be completely honest, plus it means they get to wherever the fuck they need to be next quicker. Though there are certain perks to hotel stays.
Being stuck in a room with four other band members is not one of them.
Ray and Bob are fighting over who gets the left side of the bed (which is stupid, and upsetting, because Frank already knows that he’ll be stuck in the middle and oh God, being stuck between Ray and Bob is one of the worst experiences he’s ever had so he’s really beginning to consider just sleeping on the floor) and Mikey is already taking off his socks and throwing the comforter off of the bed, curling up under the sheets. He’s usually first asleep - endless touring has a way of doing that to all of them, but especially Mikey.
“I’m sleeping on the floor,” Frank announces and Mikey looks up at him as he sets his glasses on the bedside table and shrugs under the sheets. Ray and Bob barely send him another glance before locking gazes. They give up their fight, both with separate huffs.
Frank rolls his eyes and picks up the comforter Mikey threw on the floor, settling himself by the window.
He’s just falling asleep when Gerard stumbles out of the shower, cursing loudly as he trips over something.
“Ow!” Frank hisses as Gerard steps on his hand. “What the fuck, you’re on the absolute wrong side of the room. Turn on a fucking light,” he grumbles as he sits up, shoving in Gerard’s general direction.
“Shut the fuck up,” is hissed from the other side of the room, and it sounds like Mikey. Frank groans quietly and rolls over as Gerard kneels next to him.
“What are you doing?” he whispers sharply, twisting as Gerard slips under the comforter with him. “What the fuck?”
“Just shut up and let me stay here,” Gerard murmurs, pressing his mouth to Frank’s neck where there is still a mark from when Gerard bit him - Frank shivers with the touch of Gerard’s cold nose. He smells clean, and his hair is still dripping.
Frank goes tense as Gerard winds his arms around his waist - this really isn’t the place for Gerard to force himself upon Frank - but then he realizes that that’s not what’s happening. Taking a couple of breaths, Frank finally relaxes.
Gerard doesn’t say anything else.
--
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Gerard asks, barely looking up from the Rolling Stone he’s frowning at. Frank will never understand why he subscribes - it just pisses him off.
“Come on. What have you been bugging me about on and off for weeks?”
Gerard looks up more seriously, his forehead creasing. “Um…”
“Please don’t make me say it.” Frank bites his lip and cocks a hip out, furrowing his eyebrows.
Gerard continues to frown for a moment, tilting his head to the side. Finally, revelation hits his face. “Oh. Oh. Oh. Seriously? Really? You mean it?” Gerard sounds like a kid, grinning hard. “This is fucking exciting as fuck.”
“Well,” Frank says dryly, “that’s sort of what it is, now isn’t it.”
Gerard throws back his head and laughs stupidly (and Frank’s got to admit, he loves Gerard’s laugh) and then stands, wrapping his arms around Frank and pulling them hip to hip. “So, when do I get my prize?”
Frank rolls his eyes. “Better question - when the fuck did you get so cheesy?”
Gerard kisses his nose. “Since you gave me what I wanted.”
Frank sighs and presses his face into Gerard’s jaw line. “Surprise me,” he grumbles, and Gerard laughs again.
--
Frank hadn’t expected it to be actually end up being a surprise. He had thought Gerard would call him and they’d set something up. Which didn’t really make sense, when he thinks about it, because they’re always hanging out anyway which usually (read: always) leads to fucking. It’s just that there’s a series of three or four weeks of Frank fucking Gerard and he kind of almost forgets about their kind of almost plan. Thing. Whatever you want to call it.
So when Gerard shows up and slips into the kitchen to get a bowl of Cheerio’s, Frank is only a little confused. Usually they go somewhere - sometimes a movie, the park, stupid little things for a couple of hours. But today, Gerard just eats his cereal and watches Frank, leaning against the counter.
“…Why are you. Giving me that expression.” Frank pauses when he tries to think of the words, and narrows his eyes. Gerard shrugs, but he’s smirking.
Quietly, wordlessly, Gerard rinses out his bowl and sets it into Frank’s dishwasher. He turns to Frank and their eyes meet - Gerard smiles, and roughly two seconds pass.
Frank is mostly surprised by the force of which he’s being forced against the counter, and how much it hurts his ass, and all he can let out is a muffled groan as Gerard licks into his mouth, shoving his tongue as far down Frank’s throat at possible. One hand on his hip, Gerard grabs Frank’s dick through his jeans, rubbing hard and sloppy. Despite, Frank moans again, squirming against the hard edge of the counter.
Frank sucks in a breath when Gerard finally gives him the chance. “What - are you -- ?” he manages, his legs beginning to shake from trying to hold himself up (he’s got his palms pressed hard into the countertop, Gerard still pushed tight against him). Gerard pauses, taking a step back - still shaking, Frank settles more comfortably - and licks his lips slowly.
“Come on.”
Gerard wraps his fingers around Frank’s wrist and begins to tug him out of the kitchen, into the thin hallway. They slip upstairs and Frank feels dizzy as he follows Gerard into his own bedroom.
It’s not incredibly late, but it’s fall so the sun sets early. Still, Gerard lets go of Frank’s wrist and darts across the room, closing the blinds. Frank’s heart is still pounding in his chest when Gerard looks back at him. He’s never felt this nervous, never in his life.
Gerard takes a step forward and Frank mirrors him - they somehow end up kissing, just simple and quiet in front of the bed. Frank keeps his eyes half-lidded (something he likes to do quite often, watching Gerard is calming) and his nerves slip away. His thoughts begin to drift as he works open the buttons of Gerard’s shirt, and he’s no longer really thinking of what’s going to happen. Just the slow movement of Gerard’s lips, his tongue, the thin muscles of his chest. The usual.
Gerard pushes against Frank as his shirt falls to the floor, and Frank goes easily, backed onto the bed. He feels fluid and he can hear his heart beating slowly, pulsing in his wrists and throat. Gerard straddles his hips, tucking himself up against Frank’s body and pinning his wrists gently over his head. Frank doesn’t struggle.
His stomach twists as Gerard pulls his t-shirt over his head - he shivers because the air is still a little cold, even with Gerard hovering over him. Gerard doesn’t stop there, gripping Frank’s shoulder loosely and giving him a soft push. Getting the hint, Frank rolls over, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. Gerard shifts them off and Frank squirms a bit as Gerard leans into him, pressing his face against his shoulder blade. With a little more assistance, Frank kicks his jeans and underwear off and feels - well, he feels vulnerable.
“Are you scared?” Gerard mumbles, and he sounds almost drunk.
Frank shakes his head, trying to relax against the sheets and pillow. “Not scared…just nervous.”
Gerard shrugs (Frank assumes, since he can’t see him, just feel him) and seals himself against Frank’s back. He gives one slow rock of his hips against Frank’s ass and Frank feels his body stutter a bit, his muscles tensing up and his breath stopping in his throat, unable to reach his lungs. He swallows.
Gerard sits up suddenly, and in the dim light he fumbles at the bedside table where he knows Frank (not so inconspicuously) keeps the lube and condoms. Frank doesn’t move, counting each breath and staring at the bookshelf on the other side of the room. The situation feels like déjà vu - vaguely familiar but he’s positive it’s never happened before. He wonders if this was what Gerard felt like the first time he fucked him.
He feels his cheeks get hot which is stupid.
But the sound of Gerard squirting lube over his fingers is somehow more embarrassing. Frank blinks and twists his head around as the sound of a condom ripping open echoes through the room. Before he can get a good look Gerard pushes him back down (again, gently, and Frank can only comply) and fuck, that’s what being fingered feels like? Biting on his lip, Frank blinks at the slightly burning sensation - it’s mostly just weird.
Frank follows his own usual advice - relax, breathe, relax, repeat - and Gerard slides one, two, three fingers in and out.
“Think you’re ready?”
Gerard’s voice is rough and raw and Frank feels an involuntary shudder work up his spine. He takes a shaky breath and nods, pressing his nose into the pillow. Gerard shifts above him and there’s the sound of lube again and -
“Fuck,” Frank hisses, his voice cracking. He clenches his fingers into the sheets and Jesus Christ he never knew it’d feel like that. Gerard isn’t making any noise and Frank’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but his grip of Frank’s hips is hard enough to distract from the overwhelming sensation of Gerard’s dick.
“Fuck,” Gerard finally whispers, letting out a breath (Frank realizes he hadn’t been breathing). “For fuck’s sake, you’re tight as fuck.”
Frank wants to snap back at him but his brain is too muddled to form a proper comeback. He just whimpers and adds another “fuck,” in a low voice.
It feels like for-fucking-ever until Gerard finally stops moving. “God, I could just…” Gerard trails off, letting go of Frank’s hips and instead wrapping his arms around his waist. He kisses Frank’s neck four times and then sighs deeply. “Sit here.”
“Fuck,” Frank snarls, pushing himself back up against Gerard and kissing him hard and sloppy (their teeth even clack), “that.”
“Fine,” Gerard mutters darkly, again resting his hands against Frank’s hips. He pulls out, almost all of the way (but Frank could be totally wrong) and then thrusts back in. Frank can’t help himself - he cries out. It doesn’t really feel good - he just feels full - but it certainly doesn’t feel terrible. Gerard thrusts in and out slowly a good four or five times before Frank finds himself blinking away white lights.
“Do that again,” he manages, his voice raspy. Gerard laughs, just as raspy, and repeats the angle. Frank pushes his forehead hard against the pillow and clenches the sheets. “Good God.”
Gerard doesn’t say anything else, keeping up a strict pattern as his thrusts speed up. Frank finds himself moaning helplessly, begging in muttered jumble for Gerard to do something. “For fuck’s sake, Gee, get me off,” he finally blabbers, tasting sweat on his top lip.
Again, Gerard doesn’t say anything, but he removes his right hand from Frank’s lip and begins to jerk him off sloppily. Frank is panting and part of him can’t really find the heart to be quiet. He groans shamelessly and fumbles for Gerard’s face again, their tongues tangling sloppily together. Frank comes with a hitch in his breath and a low whine, and Gerard’s hips stutter and finally freeze.
Gerard rolls over onto his back and Frank does the same, both of them lying next to each trying to catch their breath. Frank mumbles something inaudibly and throws an arm over his eyes, sighing deeply. Gerard chuckles and twines his fingers through Frank’s coarse hair.
“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Gerard murmurs, kissing the corner of Frank’s mouth. Frank twitches and turns his head, catching Gerard’s bottom lip between his teeth.
Slowly, he finally says, “Yeah, I guess,” in a tired but agreeable voice.
Gerard just grins and drapes his arm over Frank’s bare chest.
Pairing/Character(s): Gerard Way/Frank Iero
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Gerard looks like he’s going to say something but bites his lip and holds it back, instead diving across the couch. He grabs Frank’s collar and kisses him, hard. Frank laughs for a split second before they’re stuck together, Frank against the couch and Gerard pushing his hand up his shirt.
Warning: None
Beta: camatie
Word Count: 2,320
A/N: For the anon_lovefest prompt: Frank has fucked a lot of guys. He's not about to let someone fuck him though, that's entirely different. Frank's first time bottoming. It got a little long, so I kind of wanted to post it for real. Thanks to camatie for catching sloppy mistakes :)
“No.”
Gerard narrows his eyes and scowls, but says no more.
--
“Please?”
This time, Gerard leans his head on Frank’s shoulder, tilting his chin up and smiling that stupid smile he knows no one can resist. He flutters his eyelashes thrice for effect.
“Hmmm…”
Gerard tries to keep his grin to himself.
“Nope.”
Frank wraps an arm around Gerard’s shoulder and squeezes, kissing his hair. “Keep trying, buddy, you’re not getting anywhere.”
Gerard mutters something inaudible and sinks his teeth into Frank’s neck. Frank barely twitches.
--
“Why not?”
Frank shrugs and crosses his leg over his opposite knee. “I dunno,” he admits, crossing his arms over his chest to match. “It’s just - it’s not…me. At all.” Frank blanches.
Gerard just rolls his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s called trying new things! C’mon, Frankie, you’ve never let me top with you.”
“Yeah, and I’ve never let anyone else top with me either, so it’s not like you’re a special case.” Gerard huffs. “Oh, don’t look at me like that and stop being such a fucking pussy. You love being fucked. Especially by me.”
Gerard looks like he’s going to say something but bites his lip and holds it back, instead diving across the couch. He grabs Frank’s collar and kisses him, hard. Frank laughs for a split second before they’re stuck together, Frank against the couch and Gerard pushing his hand up his shirt.
--
“Shut the fuck up, I’m taking a shower.”
Frank pouts a bit and then shrugs. “Whatever, dude,” he mutters and he falls down on the hotel bed. He personally hates hotel nights, because hotels are disgusting. He loves being cramped in the stupid bunks, to be completely honest, plus it means they get to wherever the fuck they need to be next quicker. Though there are certain perks to hotel stays.
Being stuck in a room with four other band members is not one of them.
Ray and Bob are fighting over who gets the left side of the bed (which is stupid, and upsetting, because Frank already knows that he’ll be stuck in the middle and oh God, being stuck between Ray and Bob is one of the worst experiences he’s ever had so he’s really beginning to consider just sleeping on the floor) and Mikey is already taking off his socks and throwing the comforter off of the bed, curling up under the sheets. He’s usually first asleep - endless touring has a way of doing that to all of them, but especially Mikey.
“I’m sleeping on the floor,” Frank announces and Mikey looks up at him as he sets his glasses on the bedside table and shrugs under the sheets. Ray and Bob barely send him another glance before locking gazes. They give up their fight, both with separate huffs.
Frank rolls his eyes and picks up the comforter Mikey threw on the floor, settling himself by the window.
He’s just falling asleep when Gerard stumbles out of the shower, cursing loudly as he trips over something.
“Ow!” Frank hisses as Gerard steps on his hand. “What the fuck, you’re on the absolute wrong side of the room. Turn on a fucking light,” he grumbles as he sits up, shoving in Gerard’s general direction.
“Shut the fuck up,” is hissed from the other side of the room, and it sounds like Mikey. Frank groans quietly and rolls over as Gerard kneels next to him.
“What are you doing?” he whispers sharply, twisting as Gerard slips under the comforter with him. “What the fuck?”
“Just shut up and let me stay here,” Gerard murmurs, pressing his mouth to Frank’s neck where there is still a mark from when Gerard bit him - Frank shivers with the touch of Gerard’s cold nose. He smells clean, and his hair is still dripping.
Frank goes tense as Gerard winds his arms around his waist - this really isn’t the place for Gerard to force himself upon Frank - but then he realizes that that’s not what’s happening. Taking a couple of breaths, Frank finally relaxes.
Gerard doesn’t say anything else.
--
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Gerard asks, barely looking up from the Rolling Stone he’s frowning at. Frank will never understand why he subscribes - it just pisses him off.
“Come on. What have you been bugging me about on and off for weeks?”
Gerard looks up more seriously, his forehead creasing. “Um…”
“Please don’t make me say it.” Frank bites his lip and cocks a hip out, furrowing his eyebrows.
Gerard continues to frown for a moment, tilting his head to the side. Finally, revelation hits his face. “Oh. Oh. Oh. Seriously? Really? You mean it?” Gerard sounds like a kid, grinning hard. “This is fucking exciting as fuck.”
“Well,” Frank says dryly, “that’s sort of what it is, now isn’t it.”
Gerard throws back his head and laughs stupidly (and Frank’s got to admit, he loves Gerard’s laugh) and then stands, wrapping his arms around Frank and pulling them hip to hip. “So, when do I get my prize?”
Frank rolls his eyes. “Better question - when the fuck did you get so cheesy?”
Gerard kisses his nose. “Since you gave me what I wanted.”
Frank sighs and presses his face into Gerard’s jaw line. “Surprise me,” he grumbles, and Gerard laughs again.
--
Frank hadn’t expected it to be actually end up being a surprise. He had thought Gerard would call him and they’d set something up. Which didn’t really make sense, when he thinks about it, because they’re always hanging out anyway which usually (read: always) leads to fucking. It’s just that there’s a series of three or four weeks of Frank fucking Gerard and he kind of almost forgets about their kind of almost plan. Thing. Whatever you want to call it.
So when Gerard shows up and slips into the kitchen to get a bowl of Cheerio’s, Frank is only a little confused. Usually they go somewhere - sometimes a movie, the park, stupid little things for a couple of hours. But today, Gerard just eats his cereal and watches Frank, leaning against the counter.
“…Why are you. Giving me that expression.” Frank pauses when he tries to think of the words, and narrows his eyes. Gerard shrugs, but he’s smirking.
Quietly, wordlessly, Gerard rinses out his bowl and sets it into Frank’s dishwasher. He turns to Frank and their eyes meet - Gerard smiles, and roughly two seconds pass.
Frank is mostly surprised by the force of which he’s being forced against the counter, and how much it hurts his ass, and all he can let out is a muffled groan as Gerard licks into his mouth, shoving his tongue as far down Frank’s throat at possible. One hand on his hip, Gerard grabs Frank’s dick through his jeans, rubbing hard and sloppy. Despite, Frank moans again, squirming against the hard edge of the counter.
Frank sucks in a breath when Gerard finally gives him the chance. “What - are you -- ?” he manages, his legs beginning to shake from trying to hold himself up (he’s got his palms pressed hard into the countertop, Gerard still pushed tight against him). Gerard pauses, taking a step back - still shaking, Frank settles more comfortably - and licks his lips slowly.
“Come on.”
Gerard wraps his fingers around Frank’s wrist and begins to tug him out of the kitchen, into the thin hallway. They slip upstairs and Frank feels dizzy as he follows Gerard into his own bedroom.
It’s not incredibly late, but it’s fall so the sun sets early. Still, Gerard lets go of Frank’s wrist and darts across the room, closing the blinds. Frank’s heart is still pounding in his chest when Gerard looks back at him. He’s never felt this nervous, never in his life.
Gerard takes a step forward and Frank mirrors him - they somehow end up kissing, just simple and quiet in front of the bed. Frank keeps his eyes half-lidded (something he likes to do quite often, watching Gerard is calming) and his nerves slip away. His thoughts begin to drift as he works open the buttons of Gerard’s shirt, and he’s no longer really thinking of what’s going to happen. Just the slow movement of Gerard’s lips, his tongue, the thin muscles of his chest. The usual.
Gerard pushes against Frank as his shirt falls to the floor, and Frank goes easily, backed onto the bed. He feels fluid and he can hear his heart beating slowly, pulsing in his wrists and throat. Gerard straddles his hips, tucking himself up against Frank’s body and pinning his wrists gently over his head. Frank doesn’t struggle.
His stomach twists as Gerard pulls his t-shirt over his head - he shivers because the air is still a little cold, even with Gerard hovering over him. Gerard doesn’t stop there, gripping Frank’s shoulder loosely and giving him a soft push. Getting the hint, Frank rolls over, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. Gerard shifts them off and Frank squirms a bit as Gerard leans into him, pressing his face against his shoulder blade. With a little more assistance, Frank kicks his jeans and underwear off and feels - well, he feels vulnerable.
“Are you scared?” Gerard mumbles, and he sounds almost drunk.
Frank shakes his head, trying to relax against the sheets and pillow. “Not scared…just nervous.”
Gerard shrugs (Frank assumes, since he can’t see him, just feel him) and seals himself against Frank’s back. He gives one slow rock of his hips against Frank’s ass and Frank feels his body stutter a bit, his muscles tensing up and his breath stopping in his throat, unable to reach his lungs. He swallows.
Gerard sits up suddenly, and in the dim light he fumbles at the bedside table where he knows Frank (not so inconspicuously) keeps the lube and condoms. Frank doesn’t move, counting each breath and staring at the bookshelf on the other side of the room. The situation feels like déjà vu - vaguely familiar but he’s positive it’s never happened before. He wonders if this was what Gerard felt like the first time he fucked him.
He feels his cheeks get hot which is stupid.
But the sound of Gerard squirting lube over his fingers is somehow more embarrassing. Frank blinks and twists his head around as the sound of a condom ripping open echoes through the room. Before he can get a good look Gerard pushes him back down (again, gently, and Frank can only comply) and fuck, that’s what being fingered feels like? Biting on his lip, Frank blinks at the slightly burning sensation - it’s mostly just weird.
Frank follows his own usual advice - relax, breathe, relax, repeat - and Gerard slides one, two, three fingers in and out.
“Think you’re ready?”
Gerard’s voice is rough and raw and Frank feels an involuntary shudder work up his spine. He takes a shaky breath and nods, pressing his nose into the pillow. Gerard shifts above him and there’s the sound of lube again and -
“Fuck,” Frank hisses, his voice cracking. He clenches his fingers into the sheets and Jesus Christ he never knew it’d feel like that. Gerard isn’t making any noise and Frank’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but his grip of Frank’s hips is hard enough to distract from the overwhelming sensation of Gerard’s dick.
“Fuck,” Gerard finally whispers, letting out a breath (Frank realizes he hadn’t been breathing). “For fuck’s sake, you’re tight as fuck.”
Frank wants to snap back at him but his brain is too muddled to form a proper comeback. He just whimpers and adds another “fuck,” in a low voice.
It feels like for-fucking-ever until Gerard finally stops moving. “God, I could just…” Gerard trails off, letting go of Frank’s hips and instead wrapping his arms around his waist. He kisses Frank’s neck four times and then sighs deeply. “Sit here.”
“Fuck,” Frank snarls, pushing himself back up against Gerard and kissing him hard and sloppy (their teeth even clack), “that.”
“Fine,” Gerard mutters darkly, again resting his hands against Frank’s hips. He pulls out, almost all of the way (but Frank could be totally wrong) and then thrusts back in. Frank can’t help himself - he cries out. It doesn’t really feel good - he just feels full - but it certainly doesn’t feel terrible. Gerard thrusts in and out slowly a good four or five times before Frank finds himself blinking away white lights.
“Do that again,” he manages, his voice raspy. Gerard laughs, just as raspy, and repeats the angle. Frank pushes his forehead hard against the pillow and clenches the sheets. “Good God.”
Gerard doesn’t say anything else, keeping up a strict pattern as his thrusts speed up. Frank finds himself moaning helplessly, begging in muttered jumble for Gerard to do something. “For fuck’s sake, Gee, get me off,” he finally blabbers, tasting sweat on his top lip.
Again, Gerard doesn’t say anything, but he removes his right hand from Frank’s lip and begins to jerk him off sloppily. Frank is panting and part of him can’t really find the heart to be quiet. He groans shamelessly and fumbles for Gerard’s face again, their tongues tangling sloppily together. Frank comes with a hitch in his breath and a low whine, and Gerard’s hips stutter and finally freeze.
Gerard rolls over onto his back and Frank does the same, both of them lying next to each trying to catch their breath. Frank mumbles something inaudibly and throws an arm over his eyes, sighing deeply. Gerard chuckles and twines his fingers through Frank’s coarse hair.
“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Gerard murmurs, kissing the corner of Frank’s mouth. Frank twitches and turns his head, catching Gerard’s bottom lip between his teeth.
Slowly, he finally says, “Yeah, I guess,” in a tired but agreeable voice.
Gerard just grins and drapes his arm over Frank’s bare chest.