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These Walls Are Built To Fall, 2/2
Fandom: Bandom (My Chemical Romance)
Rating: Light R (non-explicit sexuality)
Pairings: Gerard/Frank
Words: 6730
Disclaimer: Made-up like a made-up, fictional, never-happened thing.
Warnings: Until I came up with a title, I'd been referring to this as the Vaguely Edwardian AU, so if historical AUs where the actual history is sketchy and vague and not allowed to get in the way of the gay romance are not your thing, this one my not be for you. Contains purple prose, accidental death of a horse at one point, Bert McCracken but not as a villain, and a sad lack of Ray (sorry, Ray!).
Notes: I'll take "Things that are not my fic for bandombigbang so I shouldn't be writing them but there were snippets written for a meme and they ate my brain and hey, apparently I'm not alone in my desire for more historical AUs" for $500, Alex.
Part One
For days after that, Gerard barely leaves his rooms. Robert orders his meals brought to him with no questions asked; the two of them have a by-now-familiar patten according to which Robert will let Gerard alone for the present, but demand some manner of explanation once he feels that his master has had quite enough time to brood. Gerard is unsure what he will say when that time comes. He has never spoken to Robert about his predilections, though Robert has known Gerard so long and so well, he may not need to be told.
Michael knows what his brother is, of course; he was in Greece, and not only knows about Bert, but watched the doomed affair as it unfolded. However, Gerard would like to believe that he has had more success in concealing his feelings for Frank--a belief he is not able to cherish long, as it happens.
"What have you done to Frank?" Michael demands one evening, appearing in Gerard's study, as is his habit, without waiting to be announced or admitted. Gerard starts guiltily at the words, which he knows will be all the confirmation Michael needs that his brother has done something.
"What makes you think I've done anything to Frank?" Gerard replies anyway, peevishly. He's seated at his desk, pen in hand, and is in exactly the right mood to be irrationally put out by the interruption to his latest (rather wretched) attempt to transmute the memory of the kiss into poetry that isn't too obviously about a man kissing his stablehand.
"Aside from the fact that the two of you have gone from spending every afternoon together to avoiding one another like the plague, the way Frank looked when I said your name to him today, and the way you looked when I said his name just now?" Michael folds his arms, fixing Gerard with a look over the tops of his spectacles. "Shall we start from the beginning? What have you done to Frank?"
Gerard looks down at the desk, sighing. Michael was there, in Greece, and never passed judgment on him once. "I kissed him."
"...And that's why he's miserable?" Michael asks after a moment. "I must say, brother, I hadn't realized you kissed that badly."
"Don't be an ass," Gerard snaps, throwing a crumpled ball of paper at him and then rising to snatch it back when Michael attempts to unfold and read it.
"Very well," Michael sighs, and takes Gerard by the arm, leading him over to the small settee by the window. "You kissed Frank. How does Frank feel about this?"
Gerard rubs a hand over his face tiredly. "Michael, if that were the only issue at hand--"
"But isn't it the most important one?" Michael presses. "Gerard, you know better than I that simply because this sort of thing isn't approved of doesn't mean it isn't done."
"Of course I know that," Gerard says, irritated once more. "But...people talk."
"People already talk about you, to be perfectly frank," Michael points out, dryly. "You needn't fear starting rumors where none exist. And you didn't seem to care about that with--before."
Gerard's mouth twists wryly. "You can say his name, you know. And this isn't the same. Frank isn't Bert."
"I'm aware of that," Michael interjects.
"He could be more damaged by this than either Bert or I ever risked being," Gerard goes on. "Suppose Frank and I were to fall out, as Bert and I did--even with rumors, I could find someone else to tend the stables. Could he find a new post in any household worthy of him? And...and the plain truth is, I love Frank more than I ever loved Bert. I can't take the chance that he'll be hurt."
Michael is silent for a few moments, then shakes his head and lays a hand on his brother's shoulder. "If you want my advice, you should be having this discussion with Frank, not with me. But, failing that...I think you should talk to Robert."
Gerard blinks, surprised. "Robert?"
"I doubt he'd think ill of you for it," Michael says. "And...as you said, there are different considerations at hand here for Frank than for you. Robert may be able to put himself in Frank's place better than either you or I can."
Gerard thinks about that for a moment, then gives a noncommittal shrug. "Perhaps. It's something to consider, in any case." He slumps down in his seat, leaning his head against Michael's shoulder as if they were both still children. "Thank you."
"For what?" Michael asks.
"Putting up with me. I know I'm an idiot sometimes."
"You're an idiot very much of the time," Michael informs him, placidly. "But you're my brother."
Having a confirmed tendency towards fanciful modes of thought, Gerard often thinks of Robert as a man who exists in two worlds without being fully part of either: born and bred to a life of service, but a particular type of service that means he's no stranger to the trappings of wealth and privilege. The end result is a man who is self-possessed, level-headed, and pragmatic, respectful but direct when he speaks to those society designates his betters, and self-contained but comfortable as he sits in Gerard's study and Gerard paces back and forth in front of him.
He also, as Michael predicted and Gerard had hoped, doesn't seem overly disconcerted by all he's heard since Gerard summoned him.
"You don't think less of me for it?" Gerard asks, not quite daring to believe it yet. "Truly?"
"It's not my place to judge," Robert answers steadily, his expression neutral. "Whatever the Bible may have to say on the matter, I recall it also espouses a fairly clear opinion about casting stones."
Gerard smiles in spite of himself. He loves Robert. Like a brother, because loving him any other way would be a complication Gerard truly doesn't need at present.
"Now, in regards to you and Frank specifically--" Robert goes on, and Gerard braces himself; he's learned to associate the tone in Robert's voice with an impending lecture. "I think you need to bear in mind that Frank is not a damsel in one of your novels."
Gerard stares at him, brow furrowing in confusion. "...What?"
"You seem very set on protecting him," Robert says. "Are you certain that he needs your protection in this? Or that he desires it?"
"He's my servant," Gerard says. "I owe him protection."
"In certain matters, yes," Robert agrees. "But he's also a man, and when it comes to matters of love, I doubt any man wants to have his choices made for him. At the very least, you must let him have a voice here; lay it out for him as you have for Michael and I, and let him decide what chance he is or isn't willing to take for you."
Gerard rakes a hand through his hair, looking down uncertainly. "If he and I were equals, I shouldn't hesitate to take your advice. And you should know I don't say that out of any desire to think myself superior to Frank--I wish I could simply disregard our difference in status. But my feelings won't make that difference insignificant, and that makes me reluctant to present him with a choice that I'm struggling with, myself."
Robert leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "You're worried that he might be afraid to refuse you?"
"Do you think it's foolish of me?" Gerard asks, uncertain.
"I think it's noble of you to consider it, and that you're right in feeling that difference in status makes this situation even thornier. But I also think that if you love Frank, you need to trust him."
"I do," Gerard insists. "I love him, and I would trust him with my life."
"Then tell him he has nothing to fear from you, whatever choice he makes, and trust him to believe that," Robert says. "That's what I would do, in any case." Spreading his hands, he adds, "If I fell in love with a man who was my servant, which I have never done, so I leave it to you to decide how helpful my opinions are."
"Your opinions are always helpful to me," Gerard tells him, sincerely. "Thank you, Robert."
Sensing that as a dismissal, Robert nods and rises, taking his leave. Gerard returns to his desk, sitting down to think over all that both Michael and Robert have said.
Frank lives in a cottage adjoining the stables, small but neatly kept. There's candlelight flickering through the windows when Gerard arrives, late as it is, so he squares his shoulders, draws in a deep breath, and knocks.
Frank's eyes widen in surprise when he opens the door to find Gerard standing there, and Gerard's hands itch to touch him instantly.
"Good evening," Frank says. His tone is politely neutral, which might not be quite what Gerard had hoped for, but at least Frank hasn't called him 'sir'. At least, he hasn't done so yet.
"Good evening," Gerard replies. "...May I come in?"
"Of course," Frank says, already stepping back to clear the doorway.
The room is small and sparsely furnished: there's a bed that's little more than a cot against one wall, a wooden chest tucked under it, and on opposite wall, beneath a small window, a table that seems to also serve Frank as a desk, judging by the single chair set in front of it and the papers lying upon it, which look as though Frank was practicing his letters before Gerard's knock interrupted him.
Having entered, Gerard hovers uncertainly in the middle of the room. By rights, he shouldn't hesitate to take the only chair, but having already interrupted Frank's work, it feels inconsiderate to take his seat, as well. However, if Gerard doesn't take the chair, that leaves him nowhere to sit but Frank's bed.
He remains standing for the moment, and turns to face Frank, who's standing close, unable to do otherwise in the tiny room.
"I've been thinking that you and I should speak," Gerard says, awkwardly, falling back on formality. "I hope you'll forgive my rather abrupt departure last time."
Frank bites his lip, and his answer is quietly sincere. "There is very little I would not forgive you, to be honest."
The look he gives Gerard is solemn and a bit cautious, but there is heat behind it, smoldering like banked coals in his eyes as the flickering light of the candle plays across his face, and it's abruptly and completely more than Gerard can stand. The thing that's been a constantly twisting torment in Gerard's mind and heart is suddenly very simple: he is going to kiss Frank in the next minute, or he is going to die.
"Then I pray you can forgive this, as well," he manages to say, and then he's moving forward, closing the short distance between them.
Frank's hands come up, but not to stop Gerard or ward him off; they settle on Gerard's hair, fingers twining and tangling in the dark strands, as his lips meet Gerard's eagerly. Gerard looses a noise that's very nearly a sob into Frank's mouth, bracing his hands on Frank's chest and feeling Frank's heart beat strong and quick under one palm.
They don't part until both of them are gasping for breath, and Frank tips his head back to look at Gerard, seeming dazed, almost drunk.
"Madness, you said," he whispers, and Gerard feels every word as warm breath against his cheek.
"When one is mad, recognizing it as madness only serves one so far, I suppose," Gerard replies in a breathless rush, and then, "Frank, Frank, touch me."
Frank curls an arm around Gerard's back, bringing their bodies closer, and kisses him again. "Anything," he breathes into Gerard's mouth. "Tell me what you want, and it's yours. I'm yours, I always have been."
Gerard closes his eyes, clinging to Frank as those words send him reeling. He scatters kisses across Frank's jaw and up to the shell of his ear, whispering, "I need you. I was a fool to think anything else mattered." He'll regret those words when the heat of the moment passes, he knows, but he can't care about that now, with Frank's hands on him and Frank's skin under his lips.
"Gerard--" Frank brings a hand up to frame Gerard's face. He's trembling faintly, and looks every bit as overwhelmed as Gerard feels. "I hardly know what to...will you lie down with me?"
"Yes," Gerard answers with no hesitation. It feels slightly unreal, so he says it again. "Yes."
Frank lays Gerard down slowly, touching him carefully through his clothes. He's inexperienced and nervous, but his hands have that same sure strength tempered with gentleness that Gerard has admired from a distance. Gerard does his best to guide Frank without overwhelming him, whispering encouragement and urging Frank on gently with his own hands.
When Frank unbuttons Gerard's waistcoat, Gerard sits up to shrug it off and raises his arms to let Frank remove his shirt. Gerard eases himself back down afterward, candlelight flickering over pale skin, and Frank simply stares, until Gerard can feel himself blushing as Frank's hands settle on his skin again, touching Gerard as though he were something fragile and precious.
"You're beautiful," Frank whispers, and Gerard's blush deepens. "So beautiful...I would never have imagined you would want someone like me."
Gerard shakes his head fiercely, reaching for Frank and pulling him down into a kiss. He tugs impatiently at Frank's shirt, breaking the kiss to pull it up and off, and bends his head to press a kiss to Frank's bare shoulder. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmurs, and lets his mouth trail down Frank's arm, mapping out tanned skin and lean muscle. Frank shivers against Gerard and reaches to tilt his chin up, reclaiming Gerard's lips with his own.
Heat blooms between them as the kiss deepens, turning what's been slow and sweet into something frantic with passion. Gerard reaches between them, fumbling with the fastenings on both their trousers. He's nearly writhing beneath Frank, trying to shove the rest of his clothing away without breaking contact, and he finally frees his mouth to beg unashamedly. "Frank, please--"
Frank hushes him gently, stroking his hair for a moment before pulling away long enough to bare them both completely. He hovers above Gerard when he returns, seeming unsure of what to do next, and Gerard pulls him down again, parting his legs with wanton eagerness.
Their bodies press together from chest to groin, and every movement Frank makes, however slight, sends sparks of pleasure through Gerard, making him cry out. Frank turns his head, seeking Gerard's mouth clumsily, and Gerard moans into Frank's mouth as his climax rushes down on him, Frank crying out Gerard's name as he follows.
They lie together, gasping and shaking, and Gerard doesn't realize there are tears on his cheeks until Frank tilts his head to kiss them away.
After a few moments, Frank moves so that he's no longer on top of Gerard, and Gerard rolls to nestle close to him, pressing his face into the hollow of Frank's shoulder.
"May I stay?" he whispers, and feels Frank's answered "Please," against his hair.
Gerard wakes in the gray light of pre-dawn with Frank's arm around him and a blanket wrapped securely around them both. Frank's face is half-hidden in Gerard's hair, but his breathing is slow and deep, as if he's still asleep.
Gerard lies still, trying to commit every detail of this to memory. Whatever happens next, whatever the outcome of all this is, he'll have the memory of this one night to cherish. He only hopes that, if it comes to that, one night will be enough.
Frank stirs eventually, lifting his head and blinking sleepily, then raising a hand to touch Gerard's cheek.
"I was afraid I had dreamed you," he whispers.
"I'm not certain that I'm not dreaming now," Gerard replies, raising his own hand to touch Frank's face. "But if this is a dream, I hope I never wake."
Gerard stretches up even as Frank bends down, and the kiss is slow and sweet, the two of them exploring each other's mouths lazily. Gerard draws back at last, kissing Frank's cheeks and brow and eyelids before shifting to lie on his side facing Frank, head propped up on one hand.
"I truly did come here to talk last night," Gerard says, and Frank reaches out to lay a hand on his hip but doesn't touch him beyond that, looking at Gerard solemnly and nodding for him to continue.
"I doubt I need to list all the reasons this is ill-advised, or the risks we would be taking if it goes on," Gerard begins, softly. "For my own part, I would be willing to face those risks, but if you aren't...I could never forgive myself if any harm came to you."
Frank shakes his head. "I feel the same--I would rather die than see you hurt. But every day we've been apart, I've felt as though I would die." He moves closer, curling himself around Gerard. "I don't care what anyone thinks or says, I don't care if this is wrong. I would face any risk to be with you, so long as you want me."
Any resistance Gerard might try to offer melts at those words, and he takes Frank in his arms, burying his face in Frank's dark hair. "I love you," he says, low and fierce, and Frank clings to him tighter at that. "I want you with me every hour of every day, and the only thing that would change that would be if you desired differently."
Frank draws in a slow, deep breath, then pulls back to look at Gerard. "Can we do this, do you think? Keep it secret, keep one another from harm?"
"I think we must try," Gerard replies. "No other option seems bearable to me." Eyes cast downward, he adds, "We wouldn't be completely alone in the secret--Michael knows, and Robert. I confided in them, and I trust them both absolutely."
Frank considers that for a moment, then nods. "If you believe they're trustworthy, that is reassurance enough for me." With a faint smile, he adds, "And the horses saw us kiss, that day in the stables, but I trust them not to reveal us to anyone."
Gerard smiles as well, leaning in to kiss him briefly. "It seems we have an accord, then."
There's anxiety fluttering in his chest like a caged bird at the thought of all that could befall Frank if this goes awry, but it's overwhelmed by swelling, spreading joy that seems too much for his body to contain.
Frank draws him in, lips parting under the gentle pressure of Gerard's tongue, and they kiss and touch with the same leisurely slowness of earlier until Gerard slides a hand under the blanket and down, making Frank gasp and moan and arch against him.
Sunrise finds them dozing in a sweaty, sated tangle of limbs, wrung out from pleasure and still touching everywhere.
"Are you hungry?" Frank asks at length, and Gerard blinks--he hadn't been thinking of food, hadn't thought of needing or wanting anything but Frank ever again, but with the question asked, he realizes that yes, he is. "You're welcome to anything I have here, though there's nothing much."
Gerard thinks for a moment, then smiles. "I have an idea."
Frank smiles as well. "I seem to recall you saying those words with that look when we were younger, and I don't seem to recall much good ever coming from it."
"Silence," Gerard orders, too playfully for it to be taken for an actual command. "As I was saying, I think you and I should go up to the house--or well, perhaps I should go and you should follow later, we shall have to work out the details--and see if Michael and Robert are up yet, and rouse them if they aren't. And then I think we should all go to the kitchens and see if Raymond will give us breakfast in spite of it being so ungodly early."
"Of course he will," Frank says confidently, peeling himself away from Gerard to collect their clothing from where it lies in a heap on the floor. "Raymond gives me sugar for the horses every morning, he's the easiest in the whole kitchen to beg things off of."
Gerard laughs. "I see. So that's why my horse is so fat?"
"Your horse is fat because you haven't gone riding in over a week," Frank points out. He rises and crosses the room, splashing water from a basin onto his face. "I can only give them so much exercise on my own."
Gerard rises as well, coming up to slide his arms around Frank from behind. "Well, I think that can be remedied," he murmurs, kissing the nape of Frank's neck. "I believe I may be in the stables more frequently, in the future."
Fandom: Bandom (My Chemical Romance)
Rating: Light R (non-explicit sexuality)
Pairings: Gerard/Frank
Words: 6730
Disclaimer: Made-up like a made-up, fictional, never-happened thing.
Warnings: Until I came up with a title, I'd been referring to this as the Vaguely Edwardian AU, so if historical AUs where the actual history is sketchy and vague and not allowed to get in the way of the gay romance are not your thing, this one my not be for you. Contains purple prose, accidental death of a horse at one point, Bert McCracken but not as a villain, and a sad lack of Ray (sorry, Ray!).
Notes: I'll take "Things that are not my fic for bandombigbang so I shouldn't be writing them but there were snippets written for a meme and they ate my brain and hey, apparently I'm not alone in my desire for more historical AUs" for $500, Alex.
Part One
For days after that, Gerard barely leaves his rooms. Robert orders his meals brought to him with no questions asked; the two of them have a by-now-familiar patten according to which Robert will let Gerard alone for the present, but demand some manner of explanation once he feels that his master has had quite enough time to brood. Gerard is unsure what he will say when that time comes. He has never spoken to Robert about his predilections, though Robert has known Gerard so long and so well, he may not need to be told.
Michael knows what his brother is, of course; he was in Greece, and not only knows about Bert, but watched the doomed affair as it unfolded. However, Gerard would like to believe that he has had more success in concealing his feelings for Frank--a belief he is not able to cherish long, as it happens.
"What have you done to Frank?" Michael demands one evening, appearing in Gerard's study, as is his habit, without waiting to be announced or admitted. Gerard starts guiltily at the words, which he knows will be all the confirmation Michael needs that his brother has done something.
"What makes you think I've done anything to Frank?" Gerard replies anyway, peevishly. He's seated at his desk, pen in hand, and is in exactly the right mood to be irrationally put out by the interruption to his latest (rather wretched) attempt to transmute the memory of the kiss into poetry that isn't too obviously about a man kissing his stablehand.
"Aside from the fact that the two of you have gone from spending every afternoon together to avoiding one another like the plague, the way Frank looked when I said your name to him today, and the way you looked when I said his name just now?" Michael folds his arms, fixing Gerard with a look over the tops of his spectacles. "Shall we start from the beginning? What have you done to Frank?"
Gerard looks down at the desk, sighing. Michael was there, in Greece, and never passed judgment on him once. "I kissed him."
"...And that's why he's miserable?" Michael asks after a moment. "I must say, brother, I hadn't realized you kissed that badly."
"Don't be an ass," Gerard snaps, throwing a crumpled ball of paper at him and then rising to snatch it back when Michael attempts to unfold and read it.
"Very well," Michael sighs, and takes Gerard by the arm, leading him over to the small settee by the window. "You kissed Frank. How does Frank feel about this?"
Gerard rubs a hand over his face tiredly. "Michael, if that were the only issue at hand--"
"But isn't it the most important one?" Michael presses. "Gerard, you know better than I that simply because this sort of thing isn't approved of doesn't mean it isn't done."
"Of course I know that," Gerard says, irritated once more. "But...people talk."
"People already talk about you, to be perfectly frank," Michael points out, dryly. "You needn't fear starting rumors where none exist. And you didn't seem to care about that with--before."
Gerard's mouth twists wryly. "You can say his name, you know. And this isn't the same. Frank isn't Bert."
"I'm aware of that," Michael interjects.
"He could be more damaged by this than either Bert or I ever risked being," Gerard goes on. "Suppose Frank and I were to fall out, as Bert and I did--even with rumors, I could find someone else to tend the stables. Could he find a new post in any household worthy of him? And...and the plain truth is, I love Frank more than I ever loved Bert. I can't take the chance that he'll be hurt."
Michael is silent for a few moments, then shakes his head and lays a hand on his brother's shoulder. "If you want my advice, you should be having this discussion with Frank, not with me. But, failing that...I think you should talk to Robert."
Gerard blinks, surprised. "Robert?"
"I doubt he'd think ill of you for it," Michael says. "And...as you said, there are different considerations at hand here for Frank than for you. Robert may be able to put himself in Frank's place better than either you or I can."
Gerard thinks about that for a moment, then gives a noncommittal shrug. "Perhaps. It's something to consider, in any case." He slumps down in his seat, leaning his head against Michael's shoulder as if they were both still children. "Thank you."
"For what?" Michael asks.
"Putting up with me. I know I'm an idiot sometimes."
"You're an idiot very much of the time," Michael informs him, placidly. "But you're my brother."
Having a confirmed tendency towards fanciful modes of thought, Gerard often thinks of Robert as a man who exists in two worlds without being fully part of either: born and bred to a life of service, but a particular type of service that means he's no stranger to the trappings of wealth and privilege. The end result is a man who is self-possessed, level-headed, and pragmatic, respectful but direct when he speaks to those society designates his betters, and self-contained but comfortable as he sits in Gerard's study and Gerard paces back and forth in front of him.
He also, as Michael predicted and Gerard had hoped, doesn't seem overly disconcerted by all he's heard since Gerard summoned him.
"You don't think less of me for it?" Gerard asks, not quite daring to believe it yet. "Truly?"
"It's not my place to judge," Robert answers steadily, his expression neutral. "Whatever the Bible may have to say on the matter, I recall it also espouses a fairly clear opinion about casting stones."
Gerard smiles in spite of himself. He loves Robert. Like a brother, because loving him any other way would be a complication Gerard truly doesn't need at present.
"Now, in regards to you and Frank specifically--" Robert goes on, and Gerard braces himself; he's learned to associate the tone in Robert's voice with an impending lecture. "I think you need to bear in mind that Frank is not a damsel in one of your novels."
Gerard stares at him, brow furrowing in confusion. "...What?"
"You seem very set on protecting him," Robert says. "Are you certain that he needs your protection in this? Or that he desires it?"
"He's my servant," Gerard says. "I owe him protection."
"In certain matters, yes," Robert agrees. "But he's also a man, and when it comes to matters of love, I doubt any man wants to have his choices made for him. At the very least, you must let him have a voice here; lay it out for him as you have for Michael and I, and let him decide what chance he is or isn't willing to take for you."
Gerard rakes a hand through his hair, looking down uncertainly. "If he and I were equals, I shouldn't hesitate to take your advice. And you should know I don't say that out of any desire to think myself superior to Frank--I wish I could simply disregard our difference in status. But my feelings won't make that difference insignificant, and that makes me reluctant to present him with a choice that I'm struggling with, myself."
Robert leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "You're worried that he might be afraid to refuse you?"
"Do you think it's foolish of me?" Gerard asks, uncertain.
"I think it's noble of you to consider it, and that you're right in feeling that difference in status makes this situation even thornier. But I also think that if you love Frank, you need to trust him."
"I do," Gerard insists. "I love him, and I would trust him with my life."
"Then tell him he has nothing to fear from you, whatever choice he makes, and trust him to believe that," Robert says. "That's what I would do, in any case." Spreading his hands, he adds, "If I fell in love with a man who was my servant, which I have never done, so I leave it to you to decide how helpful my opinions are."
"Your opinions are always helpful to me," Gerard tells him, sincerely. "Thank you, Robert."
Sensing that as a dismissal, Robert nods and rises, taking his leave. Gerard returns to his desk, sitting down to think over all that both Michael and Robert have said.
Frank lives in a cottage adjoining the stables, small but neatly kept. There's candlelight flickering through the windows when Gerard arrives, late as it is, so he squares his shoulders, draws in a deep breath, and knocks.
Frank's eyes widen in surprise when he opens the door to find Gerard standing there, and Gerard's hands itch to touch him instantly.
"Good evening," Frank says. His tone is politely neutral, which might not be quite what Gerard had hoped for, but at least Frank hasn't called him 'sir'. At least, he hasn't done so yet.
"Good evening," Gerard replies. "...May I come in?"
"Of course," Frank says, already stepping back to clear the doorway.
The room is small and sparsely furnished: there's a bed that's little more than a cot against one wall, a wooden chest tucked under it, and on opposite wall, beneath a small window, a table that seems to also serve Frank as a desk, judging by the single chair set in front of it and the papers lying upon it, which look as though Frank was practicing his letters before Gerard's knock interrupted him.
Having entered, Gerard hovers uncertainly in the middle of the room. By rights, he shouldn't hesitate to take the only chair, but having already interrupted Frank's work, it feels inconsiderate to take his seat, as well. However, if Gerard doesn't take the chair, that leaves him nowhere to sit but Frank's bed.
He remains standing for the moment, and turns to face Frank, who's standing close, unable to do otherwise in the tiny room.
"I've been thinking that you and I should speak," Gerard says, awkwardly, falling back on formality. "I hope you'll forgive my rather abrupt departure last time."
Frank bites his lip, and his answer is quietly sincere. "There is very little I would not forgive you, to be honest."
The look he gives Gerard is solemn and a bit cautious, but there is heat behind it, smoldering like banked coals in his eyes as the flickering light of the candle plays across his face, and it's abruptly and completely more than Gerard can stand. The thing that's been a constantly twisting torment in Gerard's mind and heart is suddenly very simple: he is going to kiss Frank in the next minute, or he is going to die.
"Then I pray you can forgive this, as well," he manages to say, and then he's moving forward, closing the short distance between them.
Frank's hands come up, but not to stop Gerard or ward him off; they settle on Gerard's hair, fingers twining and tangling in the dark strands, as his lips meet Gerard's eagerly. Gerard looses a noise that's very nearly a sob into Frank's mouth, bracing his hands on Frank's chest and feeling Frank's heart beat strong and quick under one palm.
They don't part until both of them are gasping for breath, and Frank tips his head back to look at Gerard, seeming dazed, almost drunk.
"Madness, you said," he whispers, and Gerard feels every word as warm breath against his cheek.
"When one is mad, recognizing it as madness only serves one so far, I suppose," Gerard replies in a breathless rush, and then, "Frank, Frank, touch me."
Frank curls an arm around Gerard's back, bringing their bodies closer, and kisses him again. "Anything," he breathes into Gerard's mouth. "Tell me what you want, and it's yours. I'm yours, I always have been."
Gerard closes his eyes, clinging to Frank as those words send him reeling. He scatters kisses across Frank's jaw and up to the shell of his ear, whispering, "I need you. I was a fool to think anything else mattered." He'll regret those words when the heat of the moment passes, he knows, but he can't care about that now, with Frank's hands on him and Frank's skin under his lips.
"Gerard--" Frank brings a hand up to frame Gerard's face. He's trembling faintly, and looks every bit as overwhelmed as Gerard feels. "I hardly know what to...will you lie down with me?"
"Yes," Gerard answers with no hesitation. It feels slightly unreal, so he says it again. "Yes."
Frank lays Gerard down slowly, touching him carefully through his clothes. He's inexperienced and nervous, but his hands have that same sure strength tempered with gentleness that Gerard has admired from a distance. Gerard does his best to guide Frank without overwhelming him, whispering encouragement and urging Frank on gently with his own hands.
When Frank unbuttons Gerard's waistcoat, Gerard sits up to shrug it off and raises his arms to let Frank remove his shirt. Gerard eases himself back down afterward, candlelight flickering over pale skin, and Frank simply stares, until Gerard can feel himself blushing as Frank's hands settle on his skin again, touching Gerard as though he were something fragile and precious.
"You're beautiful," Frank whispers, and Gerard's blush deepens. "So beautiful...I would never have imagined you would want someone like me."
Gerard shakes his head fiercely, reaching for Frank and pulling him down into a kiss. He tugs impatiently at Frank's shirt, breaking the kiss to pull it up and off, and bends his head to press a kiss to Frank's bare shoulder. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmurs, and lets his mouth trail down Frank's arm, mapping out tanned skin and lean muscle. Frank shivers against Gerard and reaches to tilt his chin up, reclaiming Gerard's lips with his own.
Heat blooms between them as the kiss deepens, turning what's been slow and sweet into something frantic with passion. Gerard reaches between them, fumbling with the fastenings on both their trousers. He's nearly writhing beneath Frank, trying to shove the rest of his clothing away without breaking contact, and he finally frees his mouth to beg unashamedly. "Frank, please--"
Frank hushes him gently, stroking his hair for a moment before pulling away long enough to bare them both completely. He hovers above Gerard when he returns, seeming unsure of what to do next, and Gerard pulls him down again, parting his legs with wanton eagerness.
Their bodies press together from chest to groin, and every movement Frank makes, however slight, sends sparks of pleasure through Gerard, making him cry out. Frank turns his head, seeking Gerard's mouth clumsily, and Gerard moans into Frank's mouth as his climax rushes down on him, Frank crying out Gerard's name as he follows.
They lie together, gasping and shaking, and Gerard doesn't realize there are tears on his cheeks until Frank tilts his head to kiss them away.
After a few moments, Frank moves so that he's no longer on top of Gerard, and Gerard rolls to nestle close to him, pressing his face into the hollow of Frank's shoulder.
"May I stay?" he whispers, and feels Frank's answered "Please," against his hair.
Gerard wakes in the gray light of pre-dawn with Frank's arm around him and a blanket wrapped securely around them both. Frank's face is half-hidden in Gerard's hair, but his breathing is slow and deep, as if he's still asleep.
Gerard lies still, trying to commit every detail of this to memory. Whatever happens next, whatever the outcome of all this is, he'll have the memory of this one night to cherish. He only hopes that, if it comes to that, one night will be enough.
Frank stirs eventually, lifting his head and blinking sleepily, then raising a hand to touch Gerard's cheek.
"I was afraid I had dreamed you," he whispers.
"I'm not certain that I'm not dreaming now," Gerard replies, raising his own hand to touch Frank's face. "But if this is a dream, I hope I never wake."
Gerard stretches up even as Frank bends down, and the kiss is slow and sweet, the two of them exploring each other's mouths lazily. Gerard draws back at last, kissing Frank's cheeks and brow and eyelids before shifting to lie on his side facing Frank, head propped up on one hand.
"I truly did come here to talk last night," Gerard says, and Frank reaches out to lay a hand on his hip but doesn't touch him beyond that, looking at Gerard solemnly and nodding for him to continue.
"I doubt I need to list all the reasons this is ill-advised, or the risks we would be taking if it goes on," Gerard begins, softly. "For my own part, I would be willing to face those risks, but if you aren't...I could never forgive myself if any harm came to you."
Frank shakes his head. "I feel the same--I would rather die than see you hurt. But every day we've been apart, I've felt as though I would die." He moves closer, curling himself around Gerard. "I don't care what anyone thinks or says, I don't care if this is wrong. I would face any risk to be with you, so long as you want me."
Any resistance Gerard might try to offer melts at those words, and he takes Frank in his arms, burying his face in Frank's dark hair. "I love you," he says, low and fierce, and Frank clings to him tighter at that. "I want you with me every hour of every day, and the only thing that would change that would be if you desired differently."
Frank draws in a slow, deep breath, then pulls back to look at Gerard. "Can we do this, do you think? Keep it secret, keep one another from harm?"
"I think we must try," Gerard replies. "No other option seems bearable to me." Eyes cast downward, he adds, "We wouldn't be completely alone in the secret--Michael knows, and Robert. I confided in them, and I trust them both absolutely."
Frank considers that for a moment, then nods. "If you believe they're trustworthy, that is reassurance enough for me." With a faint smile, he adds, "And the horses saw us kiss, that day in the stables, but I trust them not to reveal us to anyone."
Gerard smiles as well, leaning in to kiss him briefly. "It seems we have an accord, then."
There's anxiety fluttering in his chest like a caged bird at the thought of all that could befall Frank if this goes awry, but it's overwhelmed by swelling, spreading joy that seems too much for his body to contain.
Frank draws him in, lips parting under the gentle pressure of Gerard's tongue, and they kiss and touch with the same leisurely slowness of earlier until Gerard slides a hand under the blanket and down, making Frank gasp and moan and arch against him.
Sunrise finds them dozing in a sweaty, sated tangle of limbs, wrung out from pleasure and still touching everywhere.
"Are you hungry?" Frank asks at length, and Gerard blinks--he hadn't been thinking of food, hadn't thought of needing or wanting anything but Frank ever again, but with the question asked, he realizes that yes, he is. "You're welcome to anything I have here, though there's nothing much."
Gerard thinks for a moment, then smiles. "I have an idea."
Frank smiles as well. "I seem to recall you saying those words with that look when we were younger, and I don't seem to recall much good ever coming from it."
"Silence," Gerard orders, too playfully for it to be taken for an actual command. "As I was saying, I think you and I should go up to the house--or well, perhaps I should go and you should follow later, we shall have to work out the details--and see if Michael and Robert are up yet, and rouse them if they aren't. And then I think we should all go to the kitchens and see if Raymond will give us breakfast in spite of it being so ungodly early."
"Of course he will," Frank says confidently, peeling himself away from Gerard to collect their clothing from where it lies in a heap on the floor. "Raymond gives me sugar for the horses every morning, he's the easiest in the whole kitchen to beg things off of."
Gerard laughs. "I see. So that's why my horse is so fat?"
"Your horse is fat because you haven't gone riding in over a week," Frank points out. He rises and crosses the room, splashing water from a basin onto his face. "I can only give them so much exercise on my own."
Gerard rises as well, coming up to slide his arms around Frank from behind. "Well, I think that can be remedied," he murmurs, kissing the nape of Frank's neck. "I believe I may be in the stables more frequently, in the future."