More Than You Could Ever Know 7/8
*
Frank woke to a tickling sensation on his upper arm. He twitched a little and cracked open an eye to see Gerard propped up on the sofa behind him, tracing the tip of his finger over Frank's moon. It was sometime close to dawn, pale blue light streaming through the window, cut by the occasional street lamp, and Frank's glow was mostly unnoticeable in the ambient light, but apparently it was enough to entrance Gerard.
"The light is brighter along the outlines," he murmured. The touch shifted to Frank's Ghost of You tattoo and Frank closed his eyes, feeling a warm contentment spread under his skin. "The colours look like they're under blacklight." His hand rested in the inner curve of Frank's elbow. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you."
Frank shrugged. "It's pretty unbelievable," he said.
Gerard laid back down, his jaw digging into Frank's shoulder. The rest of Frank was too comfortable to think about moving. "What was it like? The North Pole?"
"Lots of snow," Frank muttered. Gerard was quiet, and Frank realised he was waiting for something more. He thought about how to really answer. The others never asked him or Brendon for details. It was so like Gerard, to be curious about it, to completely bypass the kneejerk refusal to believe. "It was pretty much how I told you before. You could bake or make toys or compose Christmas carols, and some people worked with the sleigh and the reindeer, but there weren't a lot of options. I worked in the toy factory. There was a uniform."
"Yeah?" Gerard sounded gleeful and Frank laughed.
"Brendon has some pictures somewhere. I'll show you later."
"Brendon? He's the other one?" Gerard clucked his tongue. "I should have known, since you grew up together."
Frank nodded, cheek rubbing against Gerard's hair. It was surprisingly soft given how rarely the man seemed to bathe, and smelled vaguely of flowers. "Brendon was always way better at being an elf than me."
"I'm sorry it sucked so bad, Frankie," Gerard said. He reached out blindly, fingers stroking over Frank's lips and sweeping up his jaw.
Frank thought about it, trying to look past all the horrible memories that dominated Frank's impression of Christmastown since leaving. The thing was, as much as he'd hated it, he hadn't hated his life. He'd had Brendon and Pete and everyone, and they'd had good times.
"We did a lot of ice-skating and skiing," he said. "Brendon, the fucking show-off, he could probably get in the fucking Olympics. And Pete was always getting us into fucking trouble when we were kids, riding the reindeer and shit."
"I just--I just don't understand how any of it's real," Gerard said wonderingly. "What about other stuff?"
"Like what? Like the Easter Bunny?"
"And unicorns," Gerard said.
"Yeah," Frank said. "I guess. I mean, I've never seen one. They're all in Europe and the Middle East." Gerard made a weird, excited squealing noise and Frank chuckled and said, "You're such a fucking dork." It was just like any other time they'd hung out, except for how Frank punctuated the statement with a kiss.
*
There were some obnoxious catcalls and leering, suggestive looks when Frank and Gerard stumbled into the front lounge. The bus was stopped in the parking lot of a travel centre somewhere off the interstate in Virginia. The second Frank saw the IHOP he was shaking Gerard awake.
Gerard took the hackling in stride and waited patiently while Frank put on a long sleeve shirt and a hoodie, even though he insisted, "Really, Frank, you're hardly even showing anymore, and it's really bright outside anyway, and you're going to be miserable in the heat."
Brendon slung an arm around Frank's shoulder on the walk across the parking lot, grinning like he was the one who'd just gotten laid by Gerard. "You'll get better at controlling yourself," he said in a smug, condescending tone that made Frank pinch him. Brendon laughed and darted away calling, "You just need more practice, Frankie."
Frank flipped him off, but he couldn't be too annoyed when Gerard pressed his nose into Frank's cheek and said, "I can help you with that."
A lot of the bands were already inside, and the waitresses looked a little harried, not that Frank could blame them. This group could be seriously challenging. Jon tugged Spencer over to where Tom and Bill were sitting, and Ryan and Brendon followed along, filling up the booth past maximum capacity, but they were all tiny and cuddly enough. Gabe and Mikey were in a booth behind the rest of My Chem, and Gerard led Frank that way, sliding in across from his brother.
Gabe licked some whipped cream off his fork and gave Frank a knowing look. Mikey didn't really smile, but he had that same, smug air about him that all of Frank's band had. "A bunch of us were gonna check out Busch Gardens, if you guys wanted to come," Mikey said.
"Of course, it is a hotel night, so we'd understand if you had better things to do," Gabe said casually. Frank kicked him under the table, hard.
"He was trolling your fansite last night," Mikey said, rolling his eyes.
Gabe laughed, head thrown back. "Oh man, they're saying Gee's a little homewrecker, trying to break up Northern Downpour."
Gerard opened his mouth and closed it a couple times before managing, "I wouldn't do something like that." He sounded honestly distressed.
Frank reached across the table and laced their fingers together. "The fans who believe that are assholes, anyway," he said. "I don't know why they think I'd lie about sleeping with the rest of them. Like somehow five guys screwing is worse than four? Who the fuck knows? Most of them think the idea is hot, but I don't think they really care who I'm fucking in real life."
Mikey gave Gabe what, on him, passed for a sour look, and Gabe looked appropriately contrite. "Seriously, dude, it's a bunch of twelve-year-olds who day dream of having them as their own personal harem, or some shit."
"That's not what a harem is," Gerard told Gabe shortly, and Frank had to hide a smile behind his napkin. Mikey rolled his eyes again, with the air of someone long used to this sort of thing, and luckily that was when their waitress arrived; pouring coffee in Gerard's mug while taking his and Frank's order effectively distracted him from climbing on his soapbox.
As tempting as the idea of spending all day alone with Gerard in a hotel room was, they ended up at the amusement park with everyone else. Frank wasn't really disappointed by that turn of events. He'd never been on a real roller coaster before--the closest he'd come was some of the rides at the casinos in Vegas, and Spencer assured him it was not the same thing. Plus, even with all the other bands, and Worm tagging along behind My Chem like he was herding kittens, it felt almost like a date.
They trailed a little behind everyone else. Gerard distracted Frank from boredom in the long lines, speaking animatedly about his newest ideas for the Killjoys. He talked with his hands a lot, but every time he wasn't using them, he'd casually link his fingers through Frank's like they'd been holding hands forever.
Frank knew he was grinning like an idiot, but there was no helping it. Gerard kept singing along with snippets of the pop music streaming through the speakers and obligingly let Frank kiss him whenever homophobic douchebags in line with them made snide comments. Or just whenever he felt like it. That was especially rewarding when a group ahead of them in the line realised just who Gerard was (and by extension, who Frank was) and gushed at them all the way to the ride about how awesome their music was, much to the embarrassed, grumbling dismay of the detractors.
When the heat got to be too much, they snuck off to the arcade and spent a ridiculous amount of money playing House of the Dead for a couple hours. After lunch they ran into Vicky-T, Bill, and Carden near one of the photobooths and they got their picture taken dressed as a bunch of saloon floozies posed around Vicky in a badass cowboy costume. There was a horrible but oddly entrancing musical in one of the nearby amphitheatres, and by the time that had finished it was late afternoon and hotter than ever.
Frank couldn't stop giggling, tripping into Gerard's side as they walked. Gerard kept smiling in an indulgent sort of way, eventually grabbing Frank's arm to steady him. "Do you have a flask on you, or something?" he asked.
"'M not drunk," Frank said, and rubbed his face against Gerard's sleeve, giggling again. "It's the heat."
"It's better than Mikey. He just turns into a whiny bitch when he gets too hot." Frank had trouble picturing it, since Mikey was hardly capable of inflection. Whining seemed way out of his range. Gerard was quiet for a moment and when Frank looked up, there was a think-y expression on his face. "I guess it's sort of like your Kryptonite," he said.
"Well, if it drained my powers," Frank said, considering it. "Or if I had any cool powers to begin with."
"Dude, Frankie, how can you not think that floating is awesome? And that glowing thing! And the frost--"
"Frost," Frank said dreamily.
"Okay," Gerard said, shifting Frank's weight. "Let's get you back to the nice, air-conditioned hotel."
"We don't have a hotel," Frank said.
Gerard blushed, and Frank would never not finding that appealing. "Uh, I guess Mikey's sharing with Gabe and Vicky and Nate are sharing, so I get a room to myself?"
Frank answered with a wicked grin and let Gerard all but drag him to the front gates where Brian had someone waiting with a van. The interior was dark and cool, but it just made Frank feel sleepy, and he laid his head in Gerard's lap as they began to drive away.
"Not that touring isn't awesome and everything," he said, "but it's neat to do things that normal people do every once in a while. Did you and Mikey do this a lot when you were kids?"
"Not a whole lot," Gerard said. "Sometimes we'd go to the boardwalk. Mikey was a lot more social than me, but I spent most of my time at home. In my basement. I hate to tell you this, but Mikey and I aren't exactly known for our normalacy."
Frank pressed his face closer, finding a strip of skin between Gerard's jeans and t-shirt. Gerard shifted under him, stomach going taut, and Frank grinned. "Yeah, well, I probably wouldn't know what do with normal, anyway," he said.
Gerard gave a soft huff of laughter. His fingers carded through Frank's hair and the vents were aimed right at them, cold air whooshing towards Frank's face, and the road was even and straight. Frank found himself dozing the rest of the ride.
By the time they reached the hotel, he was mostly recovered from the day and his head was clear enough that, when they stepped into the hotel lobby, Frank was hit with the sudden realisation that oh yeah, he and Gee were gonna have sex. Premeditated sex. Not the swept up in the adrenaline of the show sex or possibly oh my god you're glowing sex. And maybe Frank had never done this in the context of a relationship before, but he'd seen his bandmates around each other enough that he could fake it.
Treating Gerard as proprietary seemed like a good way to start, especially since Gerard made Frank feel possessive anyway. The moment the door of the suite closed behind them, Frank had his hands on Gerard's hips, crowding him back against it. Gerard let out a startled breath right before their lips met. Frank's fingers wriggled up under the hem of Gerard's shirt, stroking bare skin, then he gave a tug upwards. Gerard finally got with the program, shrugging out of his shirt and Frank took the opportunity to get out of his, too.
"You have a thing about sex up against walls?" Gerard asked.
"Maybe," Frank said, wiggling his brows. Gerard was pale under his shirt, almost as pale as Frank. It made the tan of his arms and face stand out, and it probably should have looked strange or silly, but Frank liked the contrast. It was a reminder of what he got to see that no one else did. "Why, would you have a problem with that?"
Gerard shook his head; his gaze was somewhere south of Frank's belly-button, and Frank ran his hand across the jut of his hip, watching Gerard follow the movement. "No," Gerard said, in a dazed voice. "It's just there's this bed." He made a vague gesture across the room.
Frank hummed his agreement. He took Gerard's wrist in hand and pressed it to rounded curve of his own stomach, just below the angel dove. Gerard's hand was warm, thumbing the points of the star and sweeping along the line of the dove's breast. His fingers brushed the hair just below the word and, before slipping down to toy with the elastic band of Frank's boxers for a brief moment and continuing on to the devil dove.
Lots of people had touched Frank's tattoos--Brendon liked to trace them when he was drunk or bored, Pete would sometimes add to them with gel pins and sharpies and glitter, and of course since leaving the North Pole he'd had a few admirers from The Mansion who'd made their interest and intent clear.
But there was something in Gerard's touch, that same intent, sure, that Pete and Brendon never had, but a sort of reverence, too. Gerard had got Frank's tattoos from the start, and he touched them like he was reading the diary of Frank's past on his skin. It was unsettling and intimate and really fucking hot.
"Yeah," he said, and had to clear his dry throat. "Bed sounds awesome."
Frank kicked off his shoes and left his jeans in a pool on the way to the bed. He'd lost weight since tour started, probably because he couldn't ever find anything that fit in his fucking diet, and most of his clothes were a little loose. Gerard in his ridiculous skinny jeans was sort of a one man comedy routine, trying to wriggle out of them until Frank, laughing, got on the floor and tugged.
"You can't just decide one day you're going to start wearing skinny jeans," Frank admonished, sitting back on his heels as he worked the fabric down. Gerard braced himself with a hand on Frank's head and stepped out one foot at a time. "There's a training period, and I guess you meet the guyliner prereq, but we'd have to do something with the hair and maybe take you shopping at Delia's for the appropriate top."
"Mikey wears them," Gerard said defensively.
Frank laughed and tossed the jeans aside, but he sort of forgot about teasing Gerard when he looked up to find the hard line of his dick tenting his Green Lantern boxers. He sat up on his knees, hands wrapping around the back of Gerard's thighs, rubbing upwards, and leaned in to breath against the crease of Gerard's thigh. Gerard sucked in a shallow breath and held it as Frank nosed the slit in the fabric. He opened his mouth and let it drag damply against the shape of Gerard's cock and Gerard exhaled harshly, fingers curling in Frank's hair.
"This position seems a little familiar," Frank said.
"Not that I'm complaining--because I'm really not," Gerard said, voice faint and breathy, "but I had something different in mind."
Frank looked up, arching a brow, and sucked the tip of Gerard's cock through his boxers. "Fuck," Gerard hissed. "Seriously, you--you. I can't--"
"Sorry," Frank said cheekily, gave him an unrepentant smile. "You were trying to say?"
Gerard grabbed him by the upper arms and hauled him to his feet and the short distance to the bed. He fell back, pulling Frank down with him, and didn't seem to mind Frank's weight landing squarely on his stomach, just arched up to kiss him; Frank was happy to oblige. His hands skimmed down Gerard's sides--he was skinnier than Frank had anticipated, his ribs standing out in sharp relief with every panted breath, and whatever Frank had expected to find under his baggy shirts, it wasn't the faint lines of definition and the soft, but concave belly. All the same, Frank could feel the pucker of faded stretch marks under his fingers when he reached Gerard's waist. It was strangely imperfect; Frank wanted to touch and taste it all.
Propped up on hands and knees, he trailed his tongue along the smears of red staining the shell of Gerard's ear, mouthed down his neck, teeth dragging over Gerard's Adam's apple. The skin was salty and bitter-dry on his tongue and so fucking soft, so delicate, that Frank couldn't stop licking, tasting, pausing to press close mouthed kisses to Gerard's pulse, to the curve where his shoulder met neck, to the sharp, sweeping ridge of his collarbone.
Gerard was mostly quiet, just the sound of his throat working to swallow and high, reedy breaths, head tossed back on the sheets like an invitation for Frank to take as much as he wanted. Even without being noisy, the little jerks of Gerard's hips or the sudden rough curl of his fingers in Frank's side let Frank know when he was getting it right.
He shifted all his weight into his hips, thighs tucked firmly on either side of Gerard's body, and skimmed his hands over Gerard's shoulders and down, thumbs flicking at his nipples. That earned a cut-off groan and sharp snap of Gerard's hips before he fell back on the bed, trembling. Shaking, actually, goosebumps raised along his arms.
Frank lifted his head to see small, perfect snowflakes scattered in Gerard's hair, dusting the sheets. Gerard blinked open his eyes and they went wide. "Wow," Gerard murmured, then let out a giddy giggle and a full body shiver. He reached up, running a hand through Frank's hair, dislodging a shower of snowflakes that melted the moment they met the heat of Gerard's skin.
They scurried under the comforter for warmth. Frank caught an elbow in the chest and a mouthful of Gerard's hair before they were settled side by side, meeting in the middle in a fast kiss. Gerard's nails scraped down Frank's stomach and he didn't stop at the elastic this time, just pushed right down the front of Frank's boxers and wrapped his fist around Frank's cock.
There was no room between them, Gerard's wrist trapped, but that didn't stop Frank from arching into the awkward, jerky flicks of his wrist. He'd almost gotten into the rhythm of it when Gerard broke the kiss and pulled his hand free.
Frank made a noise of complaint that Gerard cut off with a quick bite to his bottom lip. He pressed a hand to Frank's chest, pushing him onto his back, and slid under the covers. Frank lifted his hips to help when Gerard started to tug off his boxers and they got lost somewhere down in the sheets, which was sort of the least of Frank's concerns when Gerard traced his tongue around the crown of Frank's cock in a lazy circle.
Frank fisted his hands in the sheets and pushed up, but Gerard just chuckled and leaned away, keeping his touch light and teasing while one hand reached between Frank's thighs, toying with his balls. When Frank arched up a second time, Gerard pulled away.
"It's only fair, Frankie," he said, voice muffled. He took in just the head of Frank's cock and sucked for one glorious moment before pulling off, tonguing the slit. "You got your turn last night."
"I let you fuck my mouth, last night," Frank whined. He thought better of it a second later when Gerard was silent. Like maybe he thought Frank hadn't liked it as much as Gerard had, or like Frank had only let him do it to get something in return.
Then Gerard's crazy sharp teeth dug into the Frank's hipbone. "Yeah, and I'm gonna let you fuck my ass, if you quit being such a whiny bitch," he said, in that matter of fact, slightly annoyed tone of voice that was so normal, and between that and the words, Frank's body didn't know how to react. Gerard emerged from the covers, face flushed and sweaty, grinning like a madman. He shoved his hair out of his face and said, "I take it you're okay with that plan?" Gerard leaned in to press a smiling kiss to Frank's lips.
Frank nodded dumbly and watched as Gerard rolled out of bed and padded over to his suitcase. He bent over, rummaging around through a mess of unwashed clothing and random toiletries. Frank propped himself up on his elbow for a better view, and if he wasn't already hard, the way Gerard kept wiggling his ass around would have done the trick. Gerard made a triumphant noise and came back to the bed, dropping a bottle of lube and a handful of condoms on the pillow. Frank arched a brow, but Gerard just rolled his eyes.
"It's okay if you can't keep up with me, Frankie," he said in this solicitous, gentle voice, laying a hand on Frank's shoulder. "We can save some for later."
"Oh, fuck you," Frank said, and pounced before Gerard could make any stupid comments on that. He rolled them so Gerard was on his back again, kissing him deeply, their tongues sliding together, and Gerard moaned, pressing up with his whole body. It was hot, how fucking eager Gerard was. He spread his legs at the brush of Frank's fingers at the inside of his knee, drawing them up and back to frame Frank's waist.
Frank sat back on his heels and had to just look for a minute. Gerard was like something from a goddamned pinup calendar, hair sprawled over the pillow, arms bent above his head, hips tilted in a way that accented the curve and dip of his waist.
It was sort of a pity that Gerard kept his body hidden from view so often, but it made it that much more of an impression on Frank of what it meant, that Gerard was shameless in showing it to him. Frank ran the back of his hand up the inside of Gerard's thigh and Gerard let his knees fall against the mattress and pursed his lips as if to say, well?
Frank fumbled for the lube, spilling a good handful on the sheets and Gerard's skin. He ran his fingers through it, coating his skin. He brushed the thumb of his other hand just behind Gerard's balls and with two slick fingers, pressed inside. Gerard's back arched off the bed with a low, guttural moan, his head thrown back.
Part of Frank wanted to take his time and make Gerard writhe, but mostly Frank's cock was aching and Gerard's body was so tight around his fingers. He was probably more hasty than he should have been, stretching the first two fingers and adding a third when Gerard started pushing back into the touch.
"Okay?" Frank asked. He rubbed his fingers on the comforter. "Ready?"
Gerard nodded and swallowed. "Yeah," he said. He ripped open a condom wrapper and got up on his elbows to roll it down Frank's cock. Frank had to bite his lip and think about the cold of the North Pole for a moment to steady himself as Gerard smeared extra lube down the condom. Then Gerard leaned back, feet planted on the bedspread, looking all open and welcoming. Frank went without a second thought.
Held up on one arm, Frank guided his cock inside, eyes falling closed at the feel of Gerard, hot and tight. Gerard's hands came up to grasp at Frank's hips, sliding in sweat and melted snow, before his fingers dug in hard enough to bruise. He said Frank's name, long and drawn out. Frank couldn't really get his lips to cooperate; he just moaned in response and sunk in deeper, deeper, until he was fully seated. His thighs trembled as he came to rest. Gerard's hands slid up his sides and around his back, holding him close, and Frank had to kiss him.
"Frank," Gerard breathed, nipping at Frank's lips. Frank licked into Gerard's mouth and eased his hips back then snapping them forward, harder, then again, and again, any sort of attempt at control forgotten.
It was ridiculously good. Pete always used to go on, about how much better it was when you were in love, and Frank and Patrick had always rolled their eyes. But, okay, maybe Pete had been onto something. It wasn't like Gerard was sex god--though fuck he did this thing with his hips, a sort of roll and swivel that made Frank sort of lose control--but it was just different, right?
Frank usually thought about his own pleasure. He wasn't selfish, he got his partners off, but only as a by-product of getting himself off. This, every time he thrust his hips, every time he changed his angle, it was as much to make Gerard react as it was for his own pleasure. It was seriously gratifying. Gerard kept making these high, desperate sounds and his mouth was hot trailing kisses down Frank's throat, his body rising to meet Frank's thrusts.
"Gee," Frank panted, nose pressed to Gerard's temple. "Are you--"
Gerard nodded. "I just--I can't--"
Frank reached between them, circled his thumb around the head of Gerard's cock. Gerard whined and his hips strained upwards. "It's okay," Frank murmured. He didn't even know what that meant, didn't know what the fuck he was saying.
Just, okay, Gerard's skin was damp under Frank's mouth and he was so fucking tight, and okay, maybe they would be using all those condoms tonight, because Frank didn't think once or twice was going to be enough. He didn't want to stop, didn't want to come, although that was pretty fucking inevitable at this point. He knew he was muttering something along those lines out loud and Gerard said, "Yes, fuck, Frank, please, I'm--"
Frank got a firm grip on Gerard, smearing pre-come down Gerard's cock as he jerked him off, completely losing any semblance of rhythm between trying to work his wrist and his hips at the same time. He shifted his weight onto one knee and when he thrust back in Gerard cried out sharply. "Yeah?" Frank asked, and did it again.
"Frankie," Gerard groaned, "oh, fuck, do that--keep--keep doing that."
Frank's thighs burned from the effort and his wrist was sort of going numb from supporting himself, but he kept going. "Come on, Gee," he breathed. He could practically taste his orgasm. He was barely hanging on, and he was not going to come before Gerard, not when Gerard was so desperate for it.
The bedframe was rocking into the wall from the force of Frank's thrusts and he was ready to start begging any second, and then Gerard froze except for the tiny, erratic jerks of his hips, his mouth hung open on a wordless cry as he came wet and hot over Frank's hand. Frank groaned in thanks and relief and finally let go, pleasure sweeping down his spine like a physical touch and he was coming so fucking hard. His arms gave out from the force of it and he landed on Gerard's chest, panting.
"Oh, fuck," Frank said succinctly. He was fucking shaking, and it didn't have anything to do with the lingering cold in the room; Gerard was too delightfully warm pressed against him.
Gerard petted at his hair and let out a breathless huff of laughter and chimed in in agreement.
They pretty much didn't leave the bed the rest of the day. Gerard insisted on ordering room service after round two. Maybe Frank was getting a little loopy from too much sun and really awesome sex, combined with low blood sugar, but he really wasn't going to complain.
Still, there was the novelty of ordering from room service, something Frank had only ever seen in movies. While the food was just mediocre, he did get to lick chocolate icing from Gerard's skin, which had Frank putting it very definitively in the win column.
Sometime after sundown the others got back. It was difficult to mistake, all of them thundering down the halls like a pack of elephants, laughing and shouting. Bob and Matt pounded on the door just to be douchebags. Frank could hear their smiles when they asked if Gerard and Frank would like to join the group for horror movies in Gabe and Mikey's room. Gerard very politely told them to fuck off, leaned back against the headboard, smoke spilling from his mouth. When Northern Downpour came by for their turn to mock, Frank didn't bother with polite.
Through some fucking Christmas miracle or something, Frank managed to talk Gerard into showering with him. Maybe Gerard just saw it as an opportunity for more adventurous sex, or maybe he knew they'd just get sweaty and smelly again before the night was out. Two real fucking showers in as many days; it was like Frank was in heaven. And this one came with a blow job.
In the end they had their own horror movie marathon. One of the local channels was playing movies about possession and they watched the end of The Exorcist and Frank passed out sometime near the end of The Exorcism of Emily Rose.
Frank woke with his hard-on tucked in the groove of Gerard's bare ass. His hand was resting on the flat of Gerard's stomach and he dragged it down to feel Gerard just as hard. Gerard gave a shuddery breath and worked his ass back against Frank's cock, which was all the invitation he needed. He took Gerard in hand and they rocked until Frank spilled over the small of Gerard's back.
They barely managed to clean it up, wiping with a corner of the sheets, before Frank fell back asleep. The last thing he remembered was Gerard's hand covering his, lacing their fingers together and thinking how, in all his stupid fantasies of Gerard Way, he'd never gotten it right. This was so much better.
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