Fic: This Alone, You're in Time for the Show (Bandom, Frank/Gerard, Bert, FRAO)
Title: This Alone, You’re in Time for the Show
Author: allyndra
Fandom: Bandom
Pairing: Frank/Gerard (past Gerard/Bert)
Rating: FRAO
Length: 1,953 words
Disclaimer: Complete and utter work of fiction. Don’t google yourself.
Summary: Nothing Gerard did mattered to Bert anymore. But when he happened to see exactly what Gerard was doing, he couldn’t help staying to watch.
Note: Written for bandomkinkmeme
It wasn’t like Bert was trying to spy. He was in Jepha’s room looking for his sunglasses (because he knew that fucker had stolen him), when he heard a moan coming through the slightly ajar door that connected to the adjacent room. Who wouldn’t check that out? It was natural. Man had evolved with instincts to run from predators, find food, and investigate when they heard people fucking.
He’d kind of known that someone from My Chem was in the room next door. Jepha hadn’t told him who was over there, and that was a big fucking tip that it was someone Bert didn’t like. So in the back of his head, he’d been aware.
That didn’t mean he was ready to see Frank fucking Iero pinning Gerard to the bed.
Bert swallowed hard. He thought about slamming the door shut and leaving, even though he hadn’t found his sunglasses yet. He thought about throwing the door wider and making a biting comment about being glad to see Gerard was doing so well. He thought about throwing up right on the floor, because his stomach was suddenly just fucking churning. He thought about all of those things, but what he did was press his eye to the crack between the door and the wall.
Frank and Gerard were lying sideways across the bed. It was like some fucked up karma had placed them that way so Bert would get a better view, because if they’d been lying the right way up with their heads by the pillows, he wouldn’t have seen much more than feet. As it was, he had a clear view of the way Gerard was pulling Frank down to him, his fingers spread wide across the back of Frank’s head, raking through the short, bleached hair there.
Gerard used to tangle his fingers in Bert’s hair and tug. One time when he’d been epically fucked up, he hadn’t been able to get his hand loose again, and had lain there, laughing stupidly at the way his hand was attached to Bert’s head and wondering if he’d have to cut himself free.
Frank had his arms stretched straight so the bed, holding himself up over Gerard like he was in the middle of one long, drawn out pushup. His eyes were closed, and for all that he was the one holding Gerard down, he let Gerard control the kiss, angling Frank’s head any way he wanted. Gerard’s legs were moving restlessly, wrapped around Frank’s and rubbing up and down, like he couldn’t get enough of touching with his hands and had to use his entire body.
Frank shoved up away from Gerard so he could pull his shirt off. He was kneeling there between Gerard’s legs with his knees sinking into the mattress, and all Bert could see was the way Gerard was staring up at him. His eyes were bright, clouded with nothing more intoxicating than lust, and he looked fucking riveted. Like Frank was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
Bert closed his eyes.
He opened them a second later, because he could still hear, and imagining what was going on from the noises was worse than seeing it. The easy solution would have been to walk away, but he couldn’t do that, either.
They’d gotten rid of Gerard’s shirt while Bert had his eyes shut, and Frank was biting his way down Gerard’s pale chest. His eye lashes were dark against his cheeks, and his mouth was open, pink and wet. Gerard was arching up to meet his mouth. Bert could see old marks dotting his torso, shaped just like the ones Frank was leaving now.
Bert bit his lip. He didn’t care. He really didn’t fucking care that what they had was clearly more than a one time thing. Gerard wasn’t his business anymore.
When Frank reached Gerard’s waistband, he lifted his head, looking dazed and debauched. He was really fucking pretty. Gerard obviously thought so, too, because he lifted one finger to run it over Frank’s lower lip. "You done?" Gerard asked in a soft, teasing voice.
"Oh, baby, would I leave you hanging like that?" Frank shook his head. "I’m a giver." He was already busily undoing Gerard’s belt and fumbling his fly open.
Gerard lifted his hips so that Frank could tug his jeans and underwear off and throw them over to the head of the bed. "Yeah?" he said with a wide, wicked grin. "What are you going to give me?"
Frank winked at him and pointed both forefingers, like he was a cheesy lounge singer. "The ride of your life," he said. Gerard was still laughing when Frank got rid of his own clothes and climbed back up on top of him.
Bert hadn’t known it would hurt to see Gerard happy like that. It made him feel like an exponentially shittier person. He had known he could get hard while feeling like a shitty person (hello, puberty), so that part wasn’t a surprise. He ran a light hand over the front of his pants as he watched them.
Frank straddled Gerard, and Gerard grinned up at him. "You’re gonna give me a ride? Or you’re gonna ride me? Because this position …" He shifted his hips suggestively, letting his cock slide against Frank’s ass.
Frank wriggled against him so that Gerard’s cock settled into the cleft of his ass. "Maybe later," he said. "Right now I want to fuck you. Can I fuck you, Gee?"
It was such a stupid question, with Gerard spread out all naked and wanting under him. Bert wanted to smack Frank across the back of the head, just for being a moron. And then maybe kick him in the nuts, just because. Gerard didn’t seem to think it was stupid, though, because his breath hitched and his hips rolled, and he said, "Yeah," in a low voice.
Frank stretched across the bed and grabbed Gerard’s jeans, rummaging in the pocket. He pulled out a condom and some lube and said, "Ta da!" like he’d just done a magic trick. It should have ruined the mood, but maybe Gerard was used to Frank being a lunatic. Hell, maybe Gerard was used to all the guys he fucked being lunatics.
Gerard gave Frank a serious look and said, "Awesome. For your next trick, put your cock in my ass."
Frank shook his head. "You don’t understand, Gee." He scooted down Gerard’s body and knelt between his legs, running a hand along his skin to cup Gerard’s cock. "You can’t just jump right into the grand finale. You have to build up to it. Have a little fucking showmanship."
Gerard let out a laugh that turned into a gasp as Frank tightened his grip on his cock. "Showmanship, huh?"
"Yeah." Frank let go of Gerard’s cock so he could open the lube and slick up his fingers. "A little razzle dazzle," he said, running his fingers over Gerard’s balls. "Misdirection." He pinched Gerard’s nipple with his dry hand at the same time as he slid one slippery finger into his ass.
Gerard made a satisfied little noise at the back of his throat and said, "If you think you’re going to distract me, I think you need a flashier stage show. Or an assistant."
Frank twisted his finger in Gerard’s ass, and Gerard’s cock twitched. "I don’t need an assistant," Frank told him. He was rolling Gerard’s nipple with his free hand, teasing it to a point, and Bert was grudgingly impressed with his coordination. There had been times when Bert hadn’t even managed a reach around. Of course, he’d been drunk off his ass most of those times.
"You just don’t want to share," Gerard accused. His hips were moving in helpless little thrusts as Frank drew his finger in and out, and his skin was flushed from his hairline to his chest.
"Damn right." Frank worked a second finger into him. "You’re mine."
"Possessive." Gerard’s eyes were hot on Frank’s face, and his body was yielding, so he didn’t seem to mind much.
Frank just nodded and kept fingering him open, taking his time. Bert’s cock was starting to ache, trapped in his pants. He pressed the heel of his hand against it, but it just throbbed and leaked. Fuck, it had been a long time since he’d seen Gerard like that, loose and easy and willing. And he’d never seen him like that while sober.
Finally, Gerard curled one leg around to kick Frank weakly in the ass. "I’m good," he whined. "I’m a fucking slip ‘n’ slide. Get on with it."
Frank chuckled. He fumbled for the condom for a moment before giving up. "Help me out, Gee."
"Don’t need an assistant, my ass," Gerard said, but he took the condom and opened it, then leaned forward to roll it down Frank’s cock.
"No," Frank told him, carefully lining up and starting to push in. "I don’t need an assistant for your ass."
"Thank fuck," Gerard groaned.
"If I see Fuck," Frank said, his voice tight. "I’ll tell him you said thanks."
"Christ, Frankie, stop being a smart ass and fuck me, already," Gerard insisted, digging his heels into the bed.
"Yeah." Frank was all the way in now, and Bert could see the muscles in his ass and back flexing under his skin. "Yeah, I can do that."
"I’ll believe it when I see it," Gerard said, reaching up to scrape his bitten nails down Frank’s chest.
Frank leaned forward, supporting himself up with his hands on the mattress by Gerard’s head. It was almost the same position they’d been in when Bert had first seen them, except for the nudity. And the fucking.
And it really was fucking now. Frank was rocking down into Gerard, and Gerard was more than taking it. He was clinging and touching and just welcoming, drawing Frank into himself over and over. Bert couldn’t watch it.
He was hard as a fucking rock, and his skin was tingling like it wanted to be touched, and he couldn’t watch any more. He turned around and took two steps to the left, so that his back was against the wall and he couldn’t see though the cracked door even if he craned his neck.
Bert yanked his fly open almost viciously, pulling out his cock and jacking it hard and fast. He closed his eyes and pretended that the pleas and laughter and loud breathing echoing through his ears were just the soundtrack to a porno. It didn’t do shit, because it was still Gerard’s face and body behind his eyes when he came, and even the Gerard in his head was smiling up at Frank.
He finished quickly. Too quickly; he could still hear Frank grunting and cursing. Bert rolled his head back against the wall and let the sounds crash over him. Gerard made the whining noise, high and sharp, that meant he was right on the edge, and then Frank said, "Yeah, God." Bert could hear the slapping sounds of a few more thrusts, and Frank laughed.
"Are you a believer now?" he asked. His voice sounded wrecked, warm and rough.
"I don’t know," Gerard replied. "I’m a skeptic. You might have to convince me more."
Bert pushed away from the wall and wiped his hand on the thigh of his jeans. Not like they weren’t already dirty. He was halfway across the room when he heard Frank say, "You’re not a skeptic, you fucking liar. You believe in leprechauns. Even Buffy didn’t believe in them." Bert swallowed at the giggles coming from their room as he slipped out the door and shut it behind him.
Author: allyndra
Fandom: Bandom
Pairing: Frank/Gerard (past Gerard/Bert)
Rating: FRAO
Length: 1,953 words
Disclaimer: Complete and utter work of fiction. Don’t google yourself.
Summary: Nothing Gerard did mattered to Bert anymore. But when he happened to see exactly what Gerard was doing, he couldn’t help staying to watch.
Note: Written for bandomkinkmeme
It wasn’t like Bert was trying to spy. He was in Jepha’s room looking for his sunglasses (because he knew that fucker had stolen him), when he heard a moan coming through the slightly ajar door that connected to the adjacent room. Who wouldn’t check that out? It was natural. Man had evolved with instincts to run from predators, find food, and investigate when they heard people fucking.
He’d kind of known that someone from My Chem was in the room next door. Jepha hadn’t told him who was over there, and that was a big fucking tip that it was someone Bert didn’t like. So in the back of his head, he’d been aware.
That didn’t mean he was ready to see Frank fucking Iero pinning Gerard to the bed.
Bert swallowed hard. He thought about slamming the door shut and leaving, even though he hadn’t found his sunglasses yet. He thought about throwing the door wider and making a biting comment about being glad to see Gerard was doing so well. He thought about throwing up right on the floor, because his stomach was suddenly just fucking churning. He thought about all of those things, but what he did was press his eye to the crack between the door and the wall.
Frank and Gerard were lying sideways across the bed. It was like some fucked up karma had placed them that way so Bert would get a better view, because if they’d been lying the right way up with their heads by the pillows, he wouldn’t have seen much more than feet. As it was, he had a clear view of the way Gerard was pulling Frank down to him, his fingers spread wide across the back of Frank’s head, raking through the short, bleached hair there.
Gerard used to tangle his fingers in Bert’s hair and tug. One time when he’d been epically fucked up, he hadn’t been able to get his hand loose again, and had lain there, laughing stupidly at the way his hand was attached to Bert’s head and wondering if he’d have to cut himself free.
Frank had his arms stretched straight so the bed, holding himself up over Gerard like he was in the middle of one long, drawn out pushup. His eyes were closed, and for all that he was the one holding Gerard down, he let Gerard control the kiss, angling Frank’s head any way he wanted. Gerard’s legs were moving restlessly, wrapped around Frank’s and rubbing up and down, like he couldn’t get enough of touching with his hands and had to use his entire body.
Frank shoved up away from Gerard so he could pull his shirt off. He was kneeling there between Gerard’s legs with his knees sinking into the mattress, and all Bert could see was the way Gerard was staring up at him. His eyes were bright, clouded with nothing more intoxicating than lust, and he looked fucking riveted. Like Frank was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
Bert closed his eyes.
He opened them a second later, because he could still hear, and imagining what was going on from the noises was worse than seeing it. The easy solution would have been to walk away, but he couldn’t do that, either.
They’d gotten rid of Gerard’s shirt while Bert had his eyes shut, and Frank was biting his way down Gerard’s pale chest. His eye lashes were dark against his cheeks, and his mouth was open, pink and wet. Gerard was arching up to meet his mouth. Bert could see old marks dotting his torso, shaped just like the ones Frank was leaving now.
Bert bit his lip. He didn’t care. He really didn’t fucking care that what they had was clearly more than a one time thing. Gerard wasn’t his business anymore.
When Frank reached Gerard’s waistband, he lifted his head, looking dazed and debauched. He was really fucking pretty. Gerard obviously thought so, too, because he lifted one finger to run it over Frank’s lower lip. "You done?" Gerard asked in a soft, teasing voice.
"Oh, baby, would I leave you hanging like that?" Frank shook his head. "I’m a giver." He was already busily undoing Gerard’s belt and fumbling his fly open.
Gerard lifted his hips so that Frank could tug his jeans and underwear off and throw them over to the head of the bed. "Yeah?" he said with a wide, wicked grin. "What are you going to give me?"
Frank winked at him and pointed both forefingers, like he was a cheesy lounge singer. "The ride of your life," he said. Gerard was still laughing when Frank got rid of his own clothes and climbed back up on top of him.
Bert hadn’t known it would hurt to see Gerard happy like that. It made him feel like an exponentially shittier person. He had known he could get hard while feeling like a shitty person (hello, puberty), so that part wasn’t a surprise. He ran a light hand over the front of his pants as he watched them.
Frank straddled Gerard, and Gerard grinned up at him. "You’re gonna give me a ride? Or you’re gonna ride me? Because this position …" He shifted his hips suggestively, letting his cock slide against Frank’s ass.
Frank wriggled against him so that Gerard’s cock settled into the cleft of his ass. "Maybe later," he said. "Right now I want to fuck you. Can I fuck you, Gee?"
It was such a stupid question, with Gerard spread out all naked and wanting under him. Bert wanted to smack Frank across the back of the head, just for being a moron. And then maybe kick him in the nuts, just because. Gerard didn’t seem to think it was stupid, though, because his breath hitched and his hips rolled, and he said, "Yeah," in a low voice.
Frank stretched across the bed and grabbed Gerard’s jeans, rummaging in the pocket. He pulled out a condom and some lube and said, "Ta da!" like he’d just done a magic trick. It should have ruined the mood, but maybe Gerard was used to Frank being a lunatic. Hell, maybe Gerard was used to all the guys he fucked being lunatics.
Gerard gave Frank a serious look and said, "Awesome. For your next trick, put your cock in my ass."
Frank shook his head. "You don’t understand, Gee." He scooted down Gerard’s body and knelt between his legs, running a hand along his skin to cup Gerard’s cock. "You can’t just jump right into the grand finale. You have to build up to it. Have a little fucking showmanship."
Gerard let out a laugh that turned into a gasp as Frank tightened his grip on his cock. "Showmanship, huh?"
"Yeah." Frank let go of Gerard’s cock so he could open the lube and slick up his fingers. "A little razzle dazzle," he said, running his fingers over Gerard’s balls. "Misdirection." He pinched Gerard’s nipple with his dry hand at the same time as he slid one slippery finger into his ass.
Gerard made a satisfied little noise at the back of his throat and said, "If you think you’re going to distract me, I think you need a flashier stage show. Or an assistant."
Frank twisted his finger in Gerard’s ass, and Gerard’s cock twitched. "I don’t need an assistant," Frank told him. He was rolling Gerard’s nipple with his free hand, teasing it to a point, and Bert was grudgingly impressed with his coordination. There had been times when Bert hadn’t even managed a reach around. Of course, he’d been drunk off his ass most of those times.
"You just don’t want to share," Gerard accused. His hips were moving in helpless little thrusts as Frank drew his finger in and out, and his skin was flushed from his hairline to his chest.
"Damn right." Frank worked a second finger into him. "You’re mine."
"Possessive." Gerard’s eyes were hot on Frank’s face, and his body was yielding, so he didn’t seem to mind much.
Frank just nodded and kept fingering him open, taking his time. Bert’s cock was starting to ache, trapped in his pants. He pressed the heel of his hand against it, but it just throbbed and leaked. Fuck, it had been a long time since he’d seen Gerard like that, loose and easy and willing. And he’d never seen him like that while sober.
Finally, Gerard curled one leg around to kick Frank weakly in the ass. "I’m good," he whined. "I’m a fucking slip ‘n’ slide. Get on with it."
Frank chuckled. He fumbled for the condom for a moment before giving up. "Help me out, Gee."
"Don’t need an assistant, my ass," Gerard said, but he took the condom and opened it, then leaned forward to roll it down Frank’s cock.
"No," Frank told him, carefully lining up and starting to push in. "I don’t need an assistant for your ass."
"Thank fuck," Gerard groaned.
"If I see Fuck," Frank said, his voice tight. "I’ll tell him you said thanks."
"Christ, Frankie, stop being a smart ass and fuck me, already," Gerard insisted, digging his heels into the bed.
"Yeah." Frank was all the way in now, and Bert could see the muscles in his ass and back flexing under his skin. "Yeah, I can do that."
"I’ll believe it when I see it," Gerard said, reaching up to scrape his bitten nails down Frank’s chest.
Frank leaned forward, supporting himself up with his hands on the mattress by Gerard’s head. It was almost the same position they’d been in when Bert had first seen them, except for the nudity. And the fucking.
And it really was fucking now. Frank was rocking down into Gerard, and Gerard was more than taking it. He was clinging and touching and just welcoming, drawing Frank into himself over and over. Bert couldn’t watch it.
He was hard as a fucking rock, and his skin was tingling like it wanted to be touched, and he couldn’t watch any more. He turned around and took two steps to the left, so that his back was against the wall and he couldn’t see though the cracked door even if he craned his neck.
Bert yanked his fly open almost viciously, pulling out his cock and jacking it hard and fast. He closed his eyes and pretended that the pleas and laughter and loud breathing echoing through his ears were just the soundtrack to a porno. It didn’t do shit, because it was still Gerard’s face and body behind his eyes when he came, and even the Gerard in his head was smiling up at Frank.
He finished quickly. Too quickly; he could still hear Frank grunting and cursing. Bert rolled his head back against the wall and let the sounds crash over him. Gerard made the whining noise, high and sharp, that meant he was right on the edge, and then Frank said, "Yeah, God." Bert could hear the slapping sounds of a few more thrusts, and Frank laughed.
"Are you a believer now?" he asked. His voice sounded wrecked, warm and rough.
"I don’t know," Gerard replied. "I’m a skeptic. You might have to convince me more."
Bert pushed away from the wall and wiped his hand on the thigh of his jeans. Not like they weren’t already dirty. He was halfway across the room when he heard Frank say, "You’re not a skeptic, you fucking liar. You believe in leprechauns. Even Buffy didn’t believe in them." Bert swallowed at the giggles coming from their room as he slipped out the door and shut it behind him.