Keep It Together (Bert/Gerard/Brian, NC-17)
Finally home for break! (A whole day later, Ceej? Yes, a whole day later. /o\) Anyway, I wrote this while stranded at the airport and then on an airplane next to a mother who kept trying to steal glances at my screen to make myself feel better. Now to finish the stories I'm supposed to be working on.
Keep It Together
by Charli J
Bert/Gerard/Brian. NC-17. 4,700 words.
The way Bert approached it, he flicked his cigarette aside, coughed and spit on the ground, then got down on his knees and bit Brian's thigh. He bit hard, always just this side of challenging to be explicitly inviting, and it wasn't until then that Brian admitted that maybe this had happened faster than he realized.
"Hey, quit -- Bert, get up," Brian said, thumping a loose fist on Bert's shoulder, and Bert giggled, wrapping his arms around Brian's legs. Behind him, Gerard smiled.
Brian braced a hand on Bert's head, just trying to keep his balance. Bert clung to his legs, clutching him tight around the back of his knees, and Brian's breath left him in a rush with the force of it.
Looking to Gerard, he asked, "Isn't this yours? Are you going to do something about him?"
"Oh, I don't mind."
Gerard was still finishing his own cigarette, heavy jacket pulled closed but not zipped, with his arms folded over his chest. He hunched in on himself, against the wind, like he was afraid he could lose the cherry on his cigarette and ruin his smoke. His smile disappeared while he inhaled but as soon as he pulled his hand away again, Gerard glanced down at Bert and back to Brian, amused.
On the ground, Bert squeezed tighter and Brian punched his shoulder. He asked Bert, "Are you gonna let go?"
Bert pinched the back of Brian's leg through his pants. "Sorry, we only take bribes. Your legs for a kiss."
"Fuck -- Bert," Brian insisted, and he tried to free himself again to no avail. He'd fall back if he moved around too much. Gerard laughed softly, and Brian sighed heavily, frustrated. He kind of just wanted his legs back. "Okay, get -- can I walk? Get off the ground, it only just stopped raining."
He went from trying to push Bert back to trying to pull him upright, but Bert wouldn't cooperate with that either. His pants were probably soaked through the knees and shins now, and it wasn't like he expected Bert to care about that, but Brian did, and the possibility for averting his current determination was worth a shot here. This couldn't -- he wasn't going to let Bert con him into making out in front of Gerard. That wasn't where this was headed, no, except then Bert surprised him by echoing that he wasn't out for pushing Brian against the bus and having anybody attack his mouth.
Or, really, what he said was, "I don't want to kiss you there."
He sounded playful, and he slid his mouth sideways, opening it just alongside the crotch of Brian's jeans. Gerard, laughing himself now, said, "We've been watching Cruel Intentions."
He licked his lips and wiped his palm over them before pulling on his cigarette again. He had on his darkest sunglasses as usual, making the sharp cut of his smile stand out as the only evidence of his reactions, and Brian squinted to make him out completely. The sun setting behind him was low enough that Brian saw Gerard in silhouette more and more, dark hair, pale face, and an orange backdrop that drowned him out.
"Sarah Michelle -- what the fuck's her name? Did you know she tries to fuck her brother in that movie?" Bert asked, face nuzzled against the top of Brian's thigh. The tail of the question got tucked into the fabric of Brian's pants as Bert turned his head. A little to the left, and he was breathing over Brian's dick, saying, "Ahhhh," loudly and still holding on.
Brian jerked back, really tripping over himself this time, and Bert took advantage. He climbed over Brian on the ground, hair hanging down around his face as he smiled triumphantly. Brian's back was going to be disgusting.
"I told Gerard your kisses were as soft as a newborn baby's ass," Bert said, pushing Brian's shoulder down, and it bumped into the ground uncomfortably. His shoulder blade scraped along gravel as he shifted, urging Bert off.
He said, "For some reason, I don't think that's how you're supposed to use that saying."
"Don't make me wrong! Open."
"Gerard," Brian called, and finally Gerard appeared at Bert's side. It was his turn to throw away his smoke now, still too casual, and he reached down to pull Bert along.
"Come on, we left the movie paused. And Brian's gonna change," Gerard said helpfully. Bert tugged at the front of Brian's jeans as he stood, hand curving into the front of his pants, just behind his belt, and his buckle popped against his skin when Bert finally let go.
Brian said, "No, I have to -- " except as he sat up, he realized that it was true. He felt fucking gross suddenly, thanks to lying down in a puddle of dirty water.
After Bert stopped, stepping close to kiss the side of Gerard's face hard and then rocking back to hold his arms up and grin, Gerard helped Brian. Bert held his hands open, fingers spread, and as Brian regained his footing, Bert closed his hands, bringing his arms down and pressing loose fists against his own stomach.
"Whoa, didn't you wash a bunch of stuff yesterday?" he asked.
Brian brushed off the back of his pants, gritting his teeth at the way his fingers came away damp. "Yeah, I grabbed whatever was on the floor."
"Holy shit, clean shirts," Bert said, and then he smelled the front of his own, first lifting up the collar and then raising his arm to sniff underneath. "This one's pretty good."
"There's a whole bag on one of the bottom bunks," Brian said. "Bert, change your fucking shirt."
"Change your fucking shirt," Bert echoed, speaking in a tight, high voice that sounded nothing like Brian. Nothing. Bert pushed his palms against Gerard's cheeks, leaning in so that their noses touched briefly as he repeated the sentence yet again and then pushed their foreheads together. "You smell like shit, Bert, change."
"I probably reek," Gerard said, always the one to empathize, and Bert stepped aside to drape an arm around Gerard and pull them toward the bus door. As they moved, Bert ducked in to sniff Gerard's neck.
He said, "You smell good."
"I smell like sweat," Gerard pointed out.
"I like that," Bert said, and he pressed his nose into Gerard's skin, breathing him in deep.
Brian followed them, because if Bert wouldn't make use of the pile of stuff he forced into a coin washer, then Brian certainly would. On the bus, he pushed past them and headed down the short hallway to find the duffle of clean shirts. He dug it out of one of them bunks and poked through, pulling out a shirt for himself and something to shove in Bert's face. He'd have to hound Frank about making sure Gerard and Mikey got their stuff together later, too, because Frank wasn't above harassing someone if it meant getting clean, so much so that he'd dumped the container of water for outdoor bathing over Mikey's head once.
Up front, Bert and Gerard were talking about something that made Gerard laugh and Bert holler something unintelligible. Brian stripped off his wet shirt and tugged a fresh one over his head. It took him another minute to find new pants and switch those as well, and when he finished, he walked back toward the front lounge with an extra shirt in hand.
He didn't expect to find Bert sticking his tongue down Gerard's throat, but he wasn't entirely surprised either. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Bert holding somebody steady. It wasn't even the first time he'd seen that somebody turn out to be Gerard. Brian cleared his throat and tossed the clean shirt at Bert, who had at least lost his other one somewhere within the span of the last three minutes. The clean one landed on his head.
Bert sat back, breaking away from Gerard, and bared his teeth at Brian. Gerard tilted his head back, mouth open, and he was sort of twisting his neck to get a clear view without moving his body.
"Hey, you changed," he said. Brian glanced down at his clothes and shrugged.
"I got halfway there," Bert continued, and he thumped his own chest. With his hand open, it was more like a swift smack, the slap of skin sudden but big in volume. "Oh, wait -- "
Bert slid off of Gerard, tugged him onto his feet, and moved closer to where Brian stood in the doorway. Brian tried to take a step in reverse, but Bert grabbed the front of his new shirt and leered, holding onto Gerard by the hand behind himself.
Brian said, "What kind -- can't --"
"I told him you were good. Show him -- hey. Show him," Bert said, and Brian let Bert in when he craned forward for the kiss. It was easier, really, to give Bert what he wanted, because he'd insist until he succeeded anyway. Brian had known Bert for years now, and it was probably telling that this was the kind of resistance he'd built up to him.
When he hummed, Brian's eyes snapped open. Something about the sound was an alarm in Brian's head, and he pushed his gaze past Bert to catch Gerard's face. He was watching politely, almost studiously, not placing his head on Bert's shoulder to be coy or straining to see, but he drug his bottom teeth across his top lip absently and just looked. He caught Brian's eye and straightened up, mouth quirking at the corner, and Brian had to move back.
"Hm. Bert," he said, pushing the back of his hand against Bert's stomach. He could feel Bert's stomach twitch from just that touch, the guy a glutton for physicality but so sensitive to it when it counted.
Bert grabbed Brian's arm, squeezing his forearm and getting as much as he could before finally relenting with soft, wet break. He bit Brian's shoulder and grit his teeth against Brian's neck to say, "Like white wine and candy, Schechter. Sweet as I remember."
"Oh?" Brian asked, and he ducked his head, using the collar of his shirt to wipe his mouth. Over Bert's shoulder, he gave Gerard a wry smile. "He's too kind."
"I'm --?" Bert muttered. He raised his head and spared a glance behind himself, grinning bright when he saw Gerard's face again. "And you --"
Brian didn't notice that they were still connected at the fingers until he saw Bert turn in on himself and drop Gerard's grip to bracket Gerard's jaw with his hands. Even turned away, Bert managed to keep Brian caged in the mouth of the hallway. He had a prime view of the way Bert tugged at Gerard's bottom lip with his teeth and then licked his way across the damage, coaxing Gerard's mouth open with teeth and tongue, curling blunt fingernails along his cheeks. There was no way Brian was getting out without interrupting, and even when he put his hands on Bert's side to consider moving him, Bert just laughed into Gerard's mouth and pushed his hips back.
"I think Brian wants my ass, Gerard," Bert muttered loudly enough to make a point, and Brian sighed.
He said, "I'm trying to -- "
And Bert spun back around to him, saying, "Ask nicely? I accept, but you have to check with Gerard. He gets first lately, and he's kind of a bitch about sharing."
"I'm not a bitch," Gerard said, protesting, but any physical retaliation came too lightly. Even after he pushed at Bert's side, he let Bert lean back, bending to get at Gerard's face backward and nip at his ear. Brian's hands were still on Bert's body, dropped lower thanks to the shifting, and his fingers twitched on Bert's belt reflexively.
At that, Bert came back to Brian, saying, "We like you. Do you like us? Circle yes, no, or get the fuck off my bus."
"Suave," Brian told him.
"What can I say? I'm a charmer." Bert shrugged and slipped out of Brian's loose grasp as he sank to the floor, apparently getting reacquainted with harassing Brian while on his knees.
"What are you doing?" Brian asked, immediately looking to Gerard even though it was Bert's hand on his belt, pushing his face into Brian's crotch like outside, but this time with more purpose. "Hey."
"Fuck, what?" Bert paused just long enough to cup Brian's dick through his pants. He said, "Let me have this," and then over his shoulder. "Gerard, he's got wood, don't let him fool you."
This was such a bad idea. Brian looked to Gerard, pressing his lips together in a tight line, either trying to appeal to him or gauge his reaction. He was having a hard time mentally listing reasons why this was so bad over the shock hitting him at how fast they were moving, Bert undoing his fly, and Brian braced a hand on the door jamb and said, "Gee -- Gerard."
Brian also somehow missed that Gerard had been stripped of his jacket and glasses until now, as he watched him scratch his arm, smooth until the skin disappeared beneath short sleeves. Gerard shrugged, and instead of dropping his hands to his sides, he flattened a palm over Bert's head, dragging it over his hair.
He said, "You don't have to circle -- say -- no. Or, you shouldn't," like he wasn't giving the green light to Bert pulling out Brian's dick, pulling quick over the skin in the open air of the bus.
"Fuck," Brian mumbled, because despite any minor attempts at convincing himself he wanted outside, Bert hadn't lied. Brian was hard. Bert twisted his hand, pulled off to lick his palm and then start up again in earnest, and as soon as Brian noticed Gerard's eyes drop to look before coming back to Brian's face, Brian shook. His eyes slipped closed, and it was as he let his guard drop completely that Bert kissed the head, that he sucked tentatively, just enough to send warning sparks along Brian's spine.
"Have we done this before?" Bert asked suddenly. "I don't think, right? But I don't remember."
"Oh," Brian heard Gerard say -- breathe. His voice sounded like it caught on an inhale, and he was closer than Brian expected once he let his eyes flutter open again.
"No," Brian said, softer than strictly necessary or even useful, and Bert asked, "Huh?" looking up.
Brian shook his head, a stuttered, jerky movement, and he couldn't stop watching Gerard, waiting for him to say -- to do --
"Huh," Bert said more decisively, and he swallowed more than the head when he took in Brian's cock this time. Brian's muscles twitched where Bert's hands braced his thighs, and Bert hummed again, happy and excited.
It was the strangest scene mixed with the strangest (nicest) sensations. Bert's mouth and Gerard's face in front of him. He and Gerard regarded each other casually, and Brian felt overexposed, caught. He didn't move, didn't seek an opportunity until Gerard moaned himself, and Brian flicked his gaze down to see Bert had groped behind him to find Gerard and paw his way along his leg to rub Gerard through his pants as well.
There was something in the soft spread of his voice, a reactionary grunt that twisted up into an airy sigh that made Brian lean forward just a little, hardly at all, but Gerard exhaled through his nose and met him. They were just lips then, testing the brush of their mouths, and when Bert gave a particularly strong effort, swallowing that much more, Brian gasped, his jaw falling open.
Once he was dedicated to it, not holding back, Gerard kissed with almost the same dirty enthusiasm Bert did. He touched Brian's shoulder belatedly, patting the curve of it in twice awkwardly and then pinching his fingers over the muscle where the skin swooped up to Brian's neck.
"Ah," Brian breathed, panting. The contrast of contact points made his stomach tighten, Gerard's hands and lips versus Bert sucking him off, and if they kept things on overdrive like this, Brian wouldn't last long. "Wait, hold on."
He made Bert back off, methodically prodding his shoulder to relay the hint and Bert's curiosity inevitably brought Brian his attention. Brian said, "Come on," and encouraged Bert to stand.
"Do you kiss a lady who's just had a mouthful of cock?" Bert asked, and then blew in Brian's face. "How's my breath?"
"Fucker," Brian said but he kissed Bert anyway, clenching his hand around Bert's hip.
Behind Bert, Gerard said, "Hey, me. Don't forget me."
"Never," Bert said. Splitting his attention again, Bert turned to Gerard and threw his arms over Gerard's shoulders, kissing him open-mouthed, lewd and wet. He bumped his hips against Gerard's, shoved him back that way until it seemed like Gerard finally took a hint and walked them over to the couch.
"You gotta fuck me," Bert said.
"Do I?" Gerard asked.
"You have to. Your dick, Gerard. Your dick, my ass." Bert climbed into Gerard's lap, tilted his face up and kissed Gerard again as he ground down in his lap.
Gerard laughed, a surprisingly rough stream of giggles that Bert echoed and then shushed with his lips. Brian sat down beside them, and he cupped his hand around his dick, still hanging outside his underwear. He bit down on his bottom lip, pressing but refusing to wrap his hand around himself, to jerk off while he watched them. That was Brian's limit. He'd go this far, but he wouldn't be that guy, although it was difficult when Gerard grunted into Bert's mouth again, the sound followed by a whimper, his thin fingers going for Bert's own pants.
Brian was more relived than he liked when Bert's hand creeped out, clawed across Brian's thigh to bat his hand away and take his cock in hand for Brian. His hips bucked up, pushing into the grip, and this they had done. There was one time -- too much alcohol, too much time, too much of each other, and Brian had let Bert shove his hands down his shorts and sing the "Start-Spangled Banner" in his ear until he came, hot and sticky over Bert's fist. Leave it to Bert to pervert the national anthem for absolutely no reason. At the time, he'd just said the melody had been stuck in his head.
"What do you think?" Bert asked, scrambling into the small divide between Gerard and himself. Brian tried to slide sideways, give him space, but Gerard stood once Bert was off of him anyway. He stood up and walked into the bunk area, and Brian was confused until Gerard came back fucking supplies. "Should Gerard fuck me? You can do it if you want, I'll let you put it in. You look ready to go."
Brian moaned, the sound muffled against the way his mouth was dammed shut. Bert licked his chin, kissed him sweetly just under his jaw, and Brian said, "I'm not gonna -- "
"Do you want to fuck Gerard?"
"Shit," Brian said, hips thrusting involuntarily.
He and Gerard caught eyes, and Brian swallowed hard against the steady pulsing Bert's strokes shot through him. Bert had moved to his knees, and Gerard paused in working his pants down his hips. Brian had known the guy for a while now, not as long as he'd known Bert, and definitely not long enough to know how to touch Gerard. There was still something new about him, something easy and earnest in him that made him foreign and comfortable at the same time, but Brian was weighing it. He stared at Gerard, tried to it picture the suggestion, and then he shut his eyes and dropped his head back into the seat, curling his own hand over Bert's and adding pressure.
Bert said, "So, yes?"
And Gerard's voice cut in, dry around the words. He cleared his throat. "I'm gonna do it, Bert. I'm working on it. Leave him alone."
"Fucking finally," Bert said, and Brian open his eyes to see them when he felt Bert loosen his grip, pull back.
Bert was wiggling out of his pants, kicking everything free and laughing when a sock landed on the counter. He was the only one completely naked, took a minute to recognize this fact, and then pulled at the calf of Gerard's pants, making him slump on the couch to tug them down. Pants and underwear, Bert was insisting on it out loud, and Gerard grinned, turning his face to Brian while Bert ripped the clothes down his legs.
Before they got Gerard completely freed, Bert gave up and yanked him forward by the fabric bunched around his shins. Gerard obliged, getting tangled in his pants but covering Bert on the floor. Brian could hear the wet slide of their mouths before they shifted around enough on the carpet that he could see it, Bert fisting a hand in Gerard's hair tightly and tugging. Gerard cursed, said Bert's name in a swift rush of breath, and Bert pulled away to look at Brian and say, "Hey, his ass is in the air. You can take him -- right now, come on."
"Bert," Gerard said, and he slapped at Bert's side reflexively, but Bert laughed through the hiss it elicited. He pushed at Gerard's shoulder and turned them over, taking over the top. "I told you to give him a break."
"How am I bothering him?" Bert asked. He shook his hair out of his face as he sat back. "Wait, this is -- can I ride you?"
"Huh? Yeah, oh -- yeah, sure," Gerard said. They were such a strange couple of dudes, and Brian might laugh if he wasn't still incriminatingly hard under his flattened palm. He was nearly edging at this point. It would be so easy to touch himself. He could bring himself off in a few minutes if he wanted, but he didn't want to waste it. He wanted --
"Brian, will you hand me that stuff?" Gerard asked. He was doing it again, asking Brian to hand him lube and condoms like it was a magazine.
"Yeah," Brian said. He reached aside, grabbed what was needed, and slid to his knees on the floor. In that span of just a few seconds, Bert had managed to sneak his hand between them, jerking Gerard and sucking at the skin on his neck.
Bert had a thing about marking territory, even if just temporarily. There had been more than one time where he'd displayed someone's neck, getting Brian's attention and demanding he appraise Bert's work. Now Gerard arched under him, hummed appreciatively, and gasped when Bert decided more biting worked better.
"Do you want," Brian began to say, but they weren't really paying attention.
Gerard said, "Um. Um, you could, uh," preoccupied and failing to focus.
Bert cut in, saying, "What he means is if you could stick your fingers in me, that would be helpful."
"God," Gerard said, arching up again. When Bert bowed down, his hair hid Gerard's face and they were both identical dark manes, sliding together.
Things sped up more then, Brian slicking his fingers and pushing them inside Bert without thinking too much harder about any of it. It was while he had two fingers inside, pushed past the knuckles that Gerard huffed out a breath, saying, "Brian, you should. I want to see you do it."
Over him Bert grunted, thrust against Gerard hard enough to make a thump echo inside the bus, and Gerard grit his teeth. He pushed back onto Brian's fingers when he relented, and Brian didn't believe Gerard was seriously asking him to fuck Bert, except Gerard kept eye contact with him as he spoke like it wasn't a joke.
"I'm not --"
"Just fucking somebody," Bert said, impatience ratcheted up to its limit, and Brian prepped and thrust inside as deep as he could. Bert arched back, spine dipping. It took them a moment to figure out the placement of their legs, Brian ending up with his thighs set further apart than ideal but enough to maintain leverage, jamming his hips forward in fast strokes.
Bert was noisy throughout, complaining that he could barely feel anything when he wasn't happy, demanding Brian do it more, harder, more, and then breathing hard and growling against Gerard's collar bone when it was right. Brian kept his eyes on Bert's back, measuring the shift and stretch of his muscles and shoulder blades, startled out of the rhythm when Gerard cursed again. Brian knew Bert was still jerking Gerard off, pulling in a counterpoint that seemed agonizingly slow in comparison to Brian's pace.
The strangest scene and the nicest sensations. Brian hadn't even touched Gerard at all, nothing past a kiss, but Gerard was still under him this way, face contorted with pleasure. Brian could still tell when Gerard came, watched his expression close off and freeze, his leg kicking sideways and hitting Brian's knee. He reached up, past Bert, sliding his hand across Brian's arm, and Brian thrust in deep two more times, coming with Gerard's eyes on his face the way Brian watched him. Bert didn't make it much longer either, body going taut between them, and he bit down hard enough on Gerard's shoulder to make Gerard shout, pushing him away.
"That's still my flesh," Gerard complained, and Bert kissed the spot he'd assaulted.
"Shut it, you're not even bleeding. I'll make it better," he said. He kissed Gerard's shoulder again and again, joyful little pecks that made Gerard sigh and relax.
Brian pulled out carefully, holding onto the condom, and Bert slipped from between them. He moved until he could fall on his back at their side, Brian kneeling over Gerard, and Gerard's neck shiny with sweat and come smeared across his stomach where his shirt had gotten rucked up. Brian was still half-hard, letting warmth pool in his stomach and savoring it, flinching from oversensitivity when Gerard reached out pinched the condom and roll it off his cock.
"Oh, shit!" Bert shouted, sliding his hands up his own stomach and grinning. "Jesus, fuck."
"He's happy," Gerard said conversationally. "This is the only time he believes in God, I think."
Brian smirked, but he didn't really have anything to add. He regarded Gerard, the way his hair flanked out around his head, and Brian leaned over onto his elbows, thinking about a few things. Nothing. Gerard made a trapped noise in the back of his throat, but he didn't deny Brian, mouth damp and soft from kissing Bert. His mouth was a bright red when Brian stopped, sitting up to see him, and at his side, Bert was already nuzzling Gerard's cheek waiting for his turn.
"I should, uh," Brian said. Watching them was sobering now instead of dizzying, and he sat back on his heels and then stood.
Bert said, "Somebody's in a hurry."
"I told you earlier, I have stuff I need to finish." Brian tucked himself back in his pants, zipped up and tried to remember the next time they'd get a hotel. He needed a shower. Changing clothes again probably wouldn't cut it.
"Yeah, we know. Fuck and run," Bert said, but he was laughing. He mouthed Gerard into another kiss, using too much tongue and excited about doing so. Gerard, for his part, didn't seem displeased.
Brian tugged at his shirt, pulled down in hopes of making himself presentable. He picked up the clean shirt he'd pulled out for Bert and threw it at their heads on the floor. He said, "Whatever, put on some clothes. People could see."
"Blah blah blah, you're fucking up my afterglow," Bert complained, and Gerard eventually broke the kissing for real to shake his head against the floor.
"No, yeah," he said. "People might come back here. Right?"
He looked at Brian, and Brian felt his brow wrinkle under the gaze. Gerard was still naked as ever from the waist down to his knees, and Brian had already reverted back to the semblance of respect they were maintaining before a short while ago. The disconnect of the whole moment jarred him, pushed his feet to action. He stepped around them, bent to pick up the condom and dispose of it as unceremoniously as possible and nodded to answer Gerard, careful to avert his gaze from Gerard's naked middle.
"Yeah," Brian said, and before he went to leave the bus, he stopped to say -- nothing. There was really nothing, so he said, "I'm gonna find the others," and tried not to notice Bert slide his leg over Gerard's waist as he left. No one followed.
Keep It Together
by Charli J
Bert/Gerard/Brian. NC-17. 4,700 words.
The way Bert approached it, he flicked his cigarette aside, coughed and spit on the ground, then got down on his knees and bit Brian's thigh. He bit hard, always just this side of challenging to be explicitly inviting, and it wasn't until then that Brian admitted that maybe this had happened faster than he realized.
"Hey, quit -- Bert, get up," Brian said, thumping a loose fist on Bert's shoulder, and Bert giggled, wrapping his arms around Brian's legs. Behind him, Gerard smiled.
Brian braced a hand on Bert's head, just trying to keep his balance. Bert clung to his legs, clutching him tight around the back of his knees, and Brian's breath left him in a rush with the force of it.
Looking to Gerard, he asked, "Isn't this yours? Are you going to do something about him?"
"Oh, I don't mind."
Gerard was still finishing his own cigarette, heavy jacket pulled closed but not zipped, with his arms folded over his chest. He hunched in on himself, against the wind, like he was afraid he could lose the cherry on his cigarette and ruin his smoke. His smile disappeared while he inhaled but as soon as he pulled his hand away again, Gerard glanced down at Bert and back to Brian, amused.
On the ground, Bert squeezed tighter and Brian punched his shoulder. He asked Bert, "Are you gonna let go?"
Bert pinched the back of Brian's leg through his pants. "Sorry, we only take bribes. Your legs for a kiss."
"Fuck -- Bert," Brian insisted, and he tried to free himself again to no avail. He'd fall back if he moved around too much. Gerard laughed softly, and Brian sighed heavily, frustrated. He kind of just wanted his legs back. "Okay, get -- can I walk? Get off the ground, it only just stopped raining."
He went from trying to push Bert back to trying to pull him upright, but Bert wouldn't cooperate with that either. His pants were probably soaked through the knees and shins now, and it wasn't like he expected Bert to care about that, but Brian did, and the possibility for averting his current determination was worth a shot here. This couldn't -- he wasn't going to let Bert con him into making out in front of Gerard. That wasn't where this was headed, no, except then Bert surprised him by echoing that he wasn't out for pushing Brian against the bus and having anybody attack his mouth.
Or, really, what he said was, "I don't want to kiss you there."
He sounded playful, and he slid his mouth sideways, opening it just alongside the crotch of Brian's jeans. Gerard, laughing himself now, said, "We've been watching Cruel Intentions."
He licked his lips and wiped his palm over them before pulling on his cigarette again. He had on his darkest sunglasses as usual, making the sharp cut of his smile stand out as the only evidence of his reactions, and Brian squinted to make him out completely. The sun setting behind him was low enough that Brian saw Gerard in silhouette more and more, dark hair, pale face, and an orange backdrop that drowned him out.
"Sarah Michelle -- what the fuck's her name? Did you know she tries to fuck her brother in that movie?" Bert asked, face nuzzled against the top of Brian's thigh. The tail of the question got tucked into the fabric of Brian's pants as Bert turned his head. A little to the left, and he was breathing over Brian's dick, saying, "Ahhhh," loudly and still holding on.
Brian jerked back, really tripping over himself this time, and Bert took advantage. He climbed over Brian on the ground, hair hanging down around his face as he smiled triumphantly. Brian's back was going to be disgusting.
"I told Gerard your kisses were as soft as a newborn baby's ass," Bert said, pushing Brian's shoulder down, and it bumped into the ground uncomfortably. His shoulder blade scraped along gravel as he shifted, urging Bert off.
He said, "For some reason, I don't think that's how you're supposed to use that saying."
"Don't make me wrong! Open."
"Gerard," Brian called, and finally Gerard appeared at Bert's side. It was his turn to throw away his smoke now, still too casual, and he reached down to pull Bert along.
"Come on, we left the movie paused. And Brian's gonna change," Gerard said helpfully. Bert tugged at the front of Brian's jeans as he stood, hand curving into the front of his pants, just behind his belt, and his buckle popped against his skin when Bert finally let go.
Brian said, "No, I have to -- " except as he sat up, he realized that it was true. He felt fucking gross suddenly, thanks to lying down in a puddle of dirty water.
After Bert stopped, stepping close to kiss the side of Gerard's face hard and then rocking back to hold his arms up and grin, Gerard helped Brian. Bert held his hands open, fingers spread, and as Brian regained his footing, Bert closed his hands, bringing his arms down and pressing loose fists against his own stomach.
"Whoa, didn't you wash a bunch of stuff yesterday?" he asked.
Brian brushed off the back of his pants, gritting his teeth at the way his fingers came away damp. "Yeah, I grabbed whatever was on the floor."
"Holy shit, clean shirts," Bert said, and then he smelled the front of his own, first lifting up the collar and then raising his arm to sniff underneath. "This one's pretty good."
"There's a whole bag on one of the bottom bunks," Brian said. "Bert, change your fucking shirt."
"Change your fucking shirt," Bert echoed, speaking in a tight, high voice that sounded nothing like Brian. Nothing. Bert pushed his palms against Gerard's cheeks, leaning in so that their noses touched briefly as he repeated the sentence yet again and then pushed their foreheads together. "You smell like shit, Bert, change."
"I probably reek," Gerard said, always the one to empathize, and Bert stepped aside to drape an arm around Gerard and pull them toward the bus door. As they moved, Bert ducked in to sniff Gerard's neck.
He said, "You smell good."
"I smell like sweat," Gerard pointed out.
"I like that," Bert said, and he pressed his nose into Gerard's skin, breathing him in deep.
Brian followed them, because if Bert wouldn't make use of the pile of stuff he forced into a coin washer, then Brian certainly would. On the bus, he pushed past them and headed down the short hallway to find the duffle of clean shirts. He dug it out of one of them bunks and poked through, pulling out a shirt for himself and something to shove in Bert's face. He'd have to hound Frank about making sure Gerard and Mikey got their stuff together later, too, because Frank wasn't above harassing someone if it meant getting clean, so much so that he'd dumped the container of water for outdoor bathing over Mikey's head once.
Up front, Bert and Gerard were talking about something that made Gerard laugh and Bert holler something unintelligible. Brian stripped off his wet shirt and tugged a fresh one over his head. It took him another minute to find new pants and switch those as well, and when he finished, he walked back toward the front lounge with an extra shirt in hand.
He didn't expect to find Bert sticking his tongue down Gerard's throat, but he wasn't entirely surprised either. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Bert holding somebody steady. It wasn't even the first time he'd seen that somebody turn out to be Gerard. Brian cleared his throat and tossed the clean shirt at Bert, who had at least lost his other one somewhere within the span of the last three minutes. The clean one landed on his head.
Bert sat back, breaking away from Gerard, and bared his teeth at Brian. Gerard tilted his head back, mouth open, and he was sort of twisting his neck to get a clear view without moving his body.
"Hey, you changed," he said. Brian glanced down at his clothes and shrugged.
"I got halfway there," Bert continued, and he thumped his own chest. With his hand open, it was more like a swift smack, the slap of skin sudden but big in volume. "Oh, wait -- "
Bert slid off of Gerard, tugged him onto his feet, and moved closer to where Brian stood in the doorway. Brian tried to take a step in reverse, but Bert grabbed the front of his new shirt and leered, holding onto Gerard by the hand behind himself.
Brian said, "What kind -- can't --"
"I told him you were good. Show him -- hey. Show him," Bert said, and Brian let Bert in when he craned forward for the kiss. It was easier, really, to give Bert what he wanted, because he'd insist until he succeeded anyway. Brian had known Bert for years now, and it was probably telling that this was the kind of resistance he'd built up to him.
When he hummed, Brian's eyes snapped open. Something about the sound was an alarm in Brian's head, and he pushed his gaze past Bert to catch Gerard's face. He was watching politely, almost studiously, not placing his head on Bert's shoulder to be coy or straining to see, but he drug his bottom teeth across his top lip absently and just looked. He caught Brian's eye and straightened up, mouth quirking at the corner, and Brian had to move back.
"Hm. Bert," he said, pushing the back of his hand against Bert's stomach. He could feel Bert's stomach twitch from just that touch, the guy a glutton for physicality but so sensitive to it when it counted.
Bert grabbed Brian's arm, squeezing his forearm and getting as much as he could before finally relenting with soft, wet break. He bit Brian's shoulder and grit his teeth against Brian's neck to say, "Like white wine and candy, Schechter. Sweet as I remember."
"Oh?" Brian asked, and he ducked his head, using the collar of his shirt to wipe his mouth. Over Bert's shoulder, he gave Gerard a wry smile. "He's too kind."
"I'm --?" Bert muttered. He raised his head and spared a glance behind himself, grinning bright when he saw Gerard's face again. "And you --"
Brian didn't notice that they were still connected at the fingers until he saw Bert turn in on himself and drop Gerard's grip to bracket Gerard's jaw with his hands. Even turned away, Bert managed to keep Brian caged in the mouth of the hallway. He had a prime view of the way Bert tugged at Gerard's bottom lip with his teeth and then licked his way across the damage, coaxing Gerard's mouth open with teeth and tongue, curling blunt fingernails along his cheeks. There was no way Brian was getting out without interrupting, and even when he put his hands on Bert's side to consider moving him, Bert just laughed into Gerard's mouth and pushed his hips back.
"I think Brian wants my ass, Gerard," Bert muttered loudly enough to make a point, and Brian sighed.
He said, "I'm trying to -- "
And Bert spun back around to him, saying, "Ask nicely? I accept, but you have to check with Gerard. He gets first lately, and he's kind of a bitch about sharing."
"I'm not a bitch," Gerard said, protesting, but any physical retaliation came too lightly. Even after he pushed at Bert's side, he let Bert lean back, bending to get at Gerard's face backward and nip at his ear. Brian's hands were still on Bert's body, dropped lower thanks to the shifting, and his fingers twitched on Bert's belt reflexively.
At that, Bert came back to Brian, saying, "We like you. Do you like us? Circle yes, no, or get the fuck off my bus."
"Suave," Brian told him.
"What can I say? I'm a charmer." Bert shrugged and slipped out of Brian's loose grasp as he sank to the floor, apparently getting reacquainted with harassing Brian while on his knees.
"What are you doing?" Brian asked, immediately looking to Gerard even though it was Bert's hand on his belt, pushing his face into Brian's crotch like outside, but this time with more purpose. "Hey."
"Fuck, what?" Bert paused just long enough to cup Brian's dick through his pants. He said, "Let me have this," and then over his shoulder. "Gerard, he's got wood, don't let him fool you."
This was such a bad idea. Brian looked to Gerard, pressing his lips together in a tight line, either trying to appeal to him or gauge his reaction. He was having a hard time mentally listing reasons why this was so bad over the shock hitting him at how fast they were moving, Bert undoing his fly, and Brian braced a hand on the door jamb and said, "Gee -- Gerard."
Brian also somehow missed that Gerard had been stripped of his jacket and glasses until now, as he watched him scratch his arm, smooth until the skin disappeared beneath short sleeves. Gerard shrugged, and instead of dropping his hands to his sides, he flattened a palm over Bert's head, dragging it over his hair.
He said, "You don't have to circle -- say -- no. Or, you shouldn't," like he wasn't giving the green light to Bert pulling out Brian's dick, pulling quick over the skin in the open air of the bus.
"Fuck," Brian mumbled, because despite any minor attempts at convincing himself he wanted outside, Bert hadn't lied. Brian was hard. Bert twisted his hand, pulled off to lick his palm and then start up again in earnest, and as soon as Brian noticed Gerard's eyes drop to look before coming back to Brian's face, Brian shook. His eyes slipped closed, and it was as he let his guard drop completely that Bert kissed the head, that he sucked tentatively, just enough to send warning sparks along Brian's spine.
"Have we done this before?" Bert asked suddenly. "I don't think, right? But I don't remember."
"Oh," Brian heard Gerard say -- breathe. His voice sounded like it caught on an inhale, and he was closer than Brian expected once he let his eyes flutter open again.
"No," Brian said, softer than strictly necessary or even useful, and Bert asked, "Huh?" looking up.
Brian shook his head, a stuttered, jerky movement, and he couldn't stop watching Gerard, waiting for him to say -- to do --
"Huh," Bert said more decisively, and he swallowed more than the head when he took in Brian's cock this time. Brian's muscles twitched where Bert's hands braced his thighs, and Bert hummed again, happy and excited.
It was the strangest scene mixed with the strangest (nicest) sensations. Bert's mouth and Gerard's face in front of him. He and Gerard regarded each other casually, and Brian felt overexposed, caught. He didn't move, didn't seek an opportunity until Gerard moaned himself, and Brian flicked his gaze down to see Bert had groped behind him to find Gerard and paw his way along his leg to rub Gerard through his pants as well.
There was something in the soft spread of his voice, a reactionary grunt that twisted up into an airy sigh that made Brian lean forward just a little, hardly at all, but Gerard exhaled through his nose and met him. They were just lips then, testing the brush of their mouths, and when Bert gave a particularly strong effort, swallowing that much more, Brian gasped, his jaw falling open.
Once he was dedicated to it, not holding back, Gerard kissed with almost the same dirty enthusiasm Bert did. He touched Brian's shoulder belatedly, patting the curve of it in twice awkwardly and then pinching his fingers over the muscle where the skin swooped up to Brian's neck.
"Ah," Brian breathed, panting. The contrast of contact points made his stomach tighten, Gerard's hands and lips versus Bert sucking him off, and if they kept things on overdrive like this, Brian wouldn't last long. "Wait, hold on."
He made Bert back off, methodically prodding his shoulder to relay the hint and Bert's curiosity inevitably brought Brian his attention. Brian said, "Come on," and encouraged Bert to stand.
"Do you kiss a lady who's just had a mouthful of cock?" Bert asked, and then blew in Brian's face. "How's my breath?"
"Fucker," Brian said but he kissed Bert anyway, clenching his hand around Bert's hip.
Behind Bert, Gerard said, "Hey, me. Don't forget me."
"Never," Bert said. Splitting his attention again, Bert turned to Gerard and threw his arms over Gerard's shoulders, kissing him open-mouthed, lewd and wet. He bumped his hips against Gerard's, shoved him back that way until it seemed like Gerard finally took a hint and walked them over to the couch.
"You gotta fuck me," Bert said.
"Do I?" Gerard asked.
"You have to. Your dick, Gerard. Your dick, my ass." Bert climbed into Gerard's lap, tilted his face up and kissed Gerard again as he ground down in his lap.
Gerard laughed, a surprisingly rough stream of giggles that Bert echoed and then shushed with his lips. Brian sat down beside them, and he cupped his hand around his dick, still hanging outside his underwear. He bit down on his bottom lip, pressing but refusing to wrap his hand around himself, to jerk off while he watched them. That was Brian's limit. He'd go this far, but he wouldn't be that guy, although it was difficult when Gerard grunted into Bert's mouth again, the sound followed by a whimper, his thin fingers going for Bert's own pants.
Brian was more relived than he liked when Bert's hand creeped out, clawed across Brian's thigh to bat his hand away and take his cock in hand for Brian. His hips bucked up, pushing into the grip, and this they had done. There was one time -- too much alcohol, too much time, too much of each other, and Brian had let Bert shove his hands down his shorts and sing the "Start-Spangled Banner" in his ear until he came, hot and sticky over Bert's fist. Leave it to Bert to pervert the national anthem for absolutely no reason. At the time, he'd just said the melody had been stuck in his head.
"What do you think?" Bert asked, scrambling into the small divide between Gerard and himself. Brian tried to slide sideways, give him space, but Gerard stood once Bert was off of him anyway. He stood up and walked into the bunk area, and Brian was confused until Gerard came back fucking supplies. "Should Gerard fuck me? You can do it if you want, I'll let you put it in. You look ready to go."
Brian moaned, the sound muffled against the way his mouth was dammed shut. Bert licked his chin, kissed him sweetly just under his jaw, and Brian said, "I'm not gonna -- "
"Do you want to fuck Gerard?"
"Shit," Brian said, hips thrusting involuntarily.
He and Gerard caught eyes, and Brian swallowed hard against the steady pulsing Bert's strokes shot through him. Bert had moved to his knees, and Gerard paused in working his pants down his hips. Brian had known the guy for a while now, not as long as he'd known Bert, and definitely not long enough to know how to touch Gerard. There was still something new about him, something easy and earnest in him that made him foreign and comfortable at the same time, but Brian was weighing it. He stared at Gerard, tried to it picture the suggestion, and then he shut his eyes and dropped his head back into the seat, curling his own hand over Bert's and adding pressure.
Bert said, "So, yes?"
And Gerard's voice cut in, dry around the words. He cleared his throat. "I'm gonna do it, Bert. I'm working on it. Leave him alone."
"Fucking finally," Bert said, and Brian open his eyes to see them when he felt Bert loosen his grip, pull back.
Bert was wiggling out of his pants, kicking everything free and laughing when a sock landed on the counter. He was the only one completely naked, took a minute to recognize this fact, and then pulled at the calf of Gerard's pants, making him slump on the couch to tug them down. Pants and underwear, Bert was insisting on it out loud, and Gerard grinned, turning his face to Brian while Bert ripped the clothes down his legs.
Before they got Gerard completely freed, Bert gave up and yanked him forward by the fabric bunched around his shins. Gerard obliged, getting tangled in his pants but covering Bert on the floor. Brian could hear the wet slide of their mouths before they shifted around enough on the carpet that he could see it, Bert fisting a hand in Gerard's hair tightly and tugging. Gerard cursed, said Bert's name in a swift rush of breath, and Bert pulled away to look at Brian and say, "Hey, his ass is in the air. You can take him -- right now, come on."
"Bert," Gerard said, and he slapped at Bert's side reflexively, but Bert laughed through the hiss it elicited. He pushed at Gerard's shoulder and turned them over, taking over the top. "I told you to give him a break."
"How am I bothering him?" Bert asked. He shook his hair out of his face as he sat back. "Wait, this is -- can I ride you?"
"Huh? Yeah, oh -- yeah, sure," Gerard said. They were such a strange couple of dudes, and Brian might laugh if he wasn't still incriminatingly hard under his flattened palm. He was nearly edging at this point. It would be so easy to touch himself. He could bring himself off in a few minutes if he wanted, but he didn't want to waste it. He wanted --
"Brian, will you hand me that stuff?" Gerard asked. He was doing it again, asking Brian to hand him lube and condoms like it was a magazine.
"Yeah," Brian said. He reached aside, grabbed what was needed, and slid to his knees on the floor. In that span of just a few seconds, Bert had managed to sneak his hand between them, jerking Gerard and sucking at the skin on his neck.
Bert had a thing about marking territory, even if just temporarily. There had been more than one time where he'd displayed someone's neck, getting Brian's attention and demanding he appraise Bert's work. Now Gerard arched under him, hummed appreciatively, and gasped when Bert decided more biting worked better.
"Do you want," Brian began to say, but they weren't really paying attention.
Gerard said, "Um. Um, you could, uh," preoccupied and failing to focus.
Bert cut in, saying, "What he means is if you could stick your fingers in me, that would be helpful."
"God," Gerard said, arching up again. When Bert bowed down, his hair hid Gerard's face and they were both identical dark manes, sliding together.
Things sped up more then, Brian slicking his fingers and pushing them inside Bert without thinking too much harder about any of it. It was while he had two fingers inside, pushed past the knuckles that Gerard huffed out a breath, saying, "Brian, you should. I want to see you do it."
Over him Bert grunted, thrust against Gerard hard enough to make a thump echo inside the bus, and Gerard grit his teeth. He pushed back onto Brian's fingers when he relented, and Brian didn't believe Gerard was seriously asking him to fuck Bert, except Gerard kept eye contact with him as he spoke like it wasn't a joke.
"I'm not --"
"Just fucking somebody," Bert said, impatience ratcheted up to its limit, and Brian prepped and thrust inside as deep as he could. Bert arched back, spine dipping. It took them a moment to figure out the placement of their legs, Brian ending up with his thighs set further apart than ideal but enough to maintain leverage, jamming his hips forward in fast strokes.
Bert was noisy throughout, complaining that he could barely feel anything when he wasn't happy, demanding Brian do it more, harder, more, and then breathing hard and growling against Gerard's collar bone when it was right. Brian kept his eyes on Bert's back, measuring the shift and stretch of his muscles and shoulder blades, startled out of the rhythm when Gerard cursed again. Brian knew Bert was still jerking Gerard off, pulling in a counterpoint that seemed agonizingly slow in comparison to Brian's pace.
The strangest scene and the nicest sensations. Brian hadn't even touched Gerard at all, nothing past a kiss, but Gerard was still under him this way, face contorted with pleasure. Brian could still tell when Gerard came, watched his expression close off and freeze, his leg kicking sideways and hitting Brian's knee. He reached up, past Bert, sliding his hand across Brian's arm, and Brian thrust in deep two more times, coming with Gerard's eyes on his face the way Brian watched him. Bert didn't make it much longer either, body going taut between them, and he bit down hard enough on Gerard's shoulder to make Gerard shout, pushing him away.
"That's still my flesh," Gerard complained, and Bert kissed the spot he'd assaulted.
"Shut it, you're not even bleeding. I'll make it better," he said. He kissed Gerard's shoulder again and again, joyful little pecks that made Gerard sigh and relax.
Brian pulled out carefully, holding onto the condom, and Bert slipped from between them. He moved until he could fall on his back at their side, Brian kneeling over Gerard, and Gerard's neck shiny with sweat and come smeared across his stomach where his shirt had gotten rucked up. Brian was still half-hard, letting warmth pool in his stomach and savoring it, flinching from oversensitivity when Gerard reached out pinched the condom and roll it off his cock.
"Oh, shit!" Bert shouted, sliding his hands up his own stomach and grinning. "Jesus, fuck."
"He's happy," Gerard said conversationally. "This is the only time he believes in God, I think."
Brian smirked, but he didn't really have anything to add. He regarded Gerard, the way his hair flanked out around his head, and Brian leaned over onto his elbows, thinking about a few things. Nothing. Gerard made a trapped noise in the back of his throat, but he didn't deny Brian, mouth damp and soft from kissing Bert. His mouth was a bright red when Brian stopped, sitting up to see him, and at his side, Bert was already nuzzling Gerard's cheek waiting for his turn.
"I should, uh," Brian said. Watching them was sobering now instead of dizzying, and he sat back on his heels and then stood.
Bert said, "Somebody's in a hurry."
"I told you earlier, I have stuff I need to finish." Brian tucked himself back in his pants, zipped up and tried to remember the next time they'd get a hotel. He needed a shower. Changing clothes again probably wouldn't cut it.
"Yeah, we know. Fuck and run," Bert said, but he was laughing. He mouthed Gerard into another kiss, using too much tongue and excited about doing so. Gerard, for his part, didn't seem displeased.
Brian tugged at his shirt, pulled down in hopes of making himself presentable. He picked up the clean shirt he'd pulled out for Bert and threw it at their heads on the floor. He said, "Whatever, put on some clothes. People could see."
"Blah blah blah, you're fucking up my afterglow," Bert complained, and Gerard eventually broke the kissing for real to shake his head against the floor.
"No, yeah," he said. "People might come back here. Right?"
He looked at Brian, and Brian felt his brow wrinkle under the gaze. Gerard was still naked as ever from the waist down to his knees, and Brian had already reverted back to the semblance of respect they were maintaining before a short while ago. The disconnect of the whole moment jarred him, pushed his feet to action. He stepped around them, bent to pick up the condom and dispose of it as unceremoniously as possible and nodded to answer Gerard, careful to avert his gaze from Gerard's naked middle.
"Yeah," Brian said, and before he went to leave the bus, he stopped to say -- nothing. There was really nothing, so he said, "I'm gonna find the others," and tried not to notice Bert slide his leg over Gerard's waist as he left. No one followed.