Trypanophilia (Frank/Bob)
Based on this prompt: Frank getting of on getting piercings.
CAUTION: This fic contains needles applied to generally unsavory places. Not for the squeamish, or needle-phobic.
Bob was pretty sure Frank had mind powers. That was the only viable explanation for why he was doing this. He remembered being asked, and saying no, and then Frank kept pleading and asking and his arguments gradually got more and more convincing. Then Frank had promised to do his share of the dishes for like, two months. And Bob really hated the dishes.
So, whatever the reason, Bob was kneeling beside the couch. Frank was sprawled on his back, shirt off, looking pleased and anticipatory. Bob sighed and looked down at the piercing needle, wrapped in sterile cotton and plastic. “You’re sure about this?”
Frank nodded, his hand twitching a little. “Hell yeah I’m sure.” He shifted. “The left one. Like I told you before.”
“Yeah, yeah. I remember. How come you can’t do this yourself again?” Bob grumbled. He understood why Gerard couldn’t do it, what with the fainting and such, but he really didn’t understand why Frank couldn’t just pierce his own damn nipple.
“My hands shake, and I don’t want to fuck up the angle. I just want it straight across.” Frank’s eyes gleamed as Bob reached down for a piece of ice in a bowl. “Don’t use the ice for too long. I mean, it’ll make the nipple hard, so use it a little - ah, that’s enough.”
Bob had barely touched the ice cube to Frank’s nipple and Frank was already pushing his hand away. Bob frowned. “Isn’t this stuff supposed to numb you, too?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Dude, don’t even worry about it. Just do it, okay?” Frank bit his lower lip, watching Bob take the needle out of the sealed package and clean it off with alcohol. Bob sighed and pinched Frank’s nipple between two fingers. Frank made a soft little moaning noise and Bob cocked an eyebrow.
“Don’t make this weird, man.” He muttered. “I’m just piercing your…” Bob trailed off, realizing that there was no way to say what he was doing and still have it be non-weird. He sighed and lined the needle up, pressing the tip through the hard nub of Frank’s nipple.
Frank’s moan caught Bob totally off guard. He had been expecting a hiss of pain, maybe even a scream, but not a low, rough moan of pleasure. Bob focused on pulling the needle out, and sliding the ring through the hole before he lost his nerve. Frank moaned again when the ring pushed through, his hips arching up off the couch. Oh. Ohhh.
“Are you getting off on this?” Bob asked, stunned. Frank swallowed hard and shook his head quickly. “Nuh…nuh uh.” He mumbled, looking dazed and flushed. Bob chanced a look down and confirmed his suspicions. Frank was rock hard in his jeans. Bob knew he should back off, should leave and not make this weird, but the temptation was too much. He tugged the ring just slightly, taking longer than he needed to close it.
The result was fucking delicious. Frank squirmed, biting his lower lip hard. His face was red, maybe from arousal, maybe from holding his breath. Bob fastened the ring and hesitated, before brushing his thumb lightly over the ring.
“Fuck!” Frank’s self-control completely disintegrated and he grabbed at his crotch, palming himself roughly through his jeans. He made desperate, high-pitched noises, his hips bucking off the couch as he came. Bob did nothing, except idly thumb the fresh piercing, but that seemed to be enough. He moved his hand after Frank came.
Frank lay on the couch, spent and panting. Bob reached down onto the floor and picked up a band-aid, shoving it into Frank’s hand. “You handle that.” He said flatly. Frank just grinned up at him, flushed and sated. He taped the band-aid over his nipple and stretched, relaxing on the couch.
“Thanks Bob. You’re awesome.”
Bob just grunted and got up, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Don’t forget, you owe me a month’s worth of dishes.”
~
Bob didn’t forget about the little incident on the couch. He tried not to think about it too often, but it was hard when Frank seemed to constantly walk around shirtless. If he caught Bob looking, he’d reach up and tweak the nipple ring purposefully, giving Bob a knowing wink.
Bob wasn’t sure how he felt about it. His dick was pretty damn sure though. He spent an extra ten or fifteen minutes in the shower these days, thinking about Frank, and his nipple ring, and the noises Frank made when he came.
Maybe that was the reason that Bob agreed to go with Frank to get another piercing. Even though Frank asked casually, like it was no big deal, Bob could see the gleam in his eye. So he went, and he followed Frank into the back room of the tattoo parlor.
The woman doing the piercing introduced herself as Kat. She looked Bob up and down. “I’m guessing this is your boyfriend?”
Bob shook his head quickly, but Frank laughed and said “Not yet!” Bob scowled at him, folding his arms across his chest. Kat chuckled. “I’m going to go clean up. Get comfortable, Bob, he’s not going to want to walk after I’m through with him.”
The words, or maybe it was the way she’d said them, sent a chill down Bob’s spine. “Uh, Frank? What exactly are you getting pierced?”
Frank grinned and gestured to his crotch. “I thought it’d be fun.” He smirked. “Better with you here. You have to hold my hand. Give me some moral support.” Frank made grabby hands at Bob, and Bob sighed. He pulled his chair closer and reached over to touch Frank’s hand.
“Okay, fine. But this doesn’t mean…” Bob trailed off. Frank had pulled his hand up to his face and he was nuzzling it, nipping Bob’s fingers. “Uh.” Bob coughed. “Look um, can we talk about this after you…uh, after…”
“Ah, hell yeah.” Frank grinned and stopped molesting Bob’s hand just as Kat came back in. Frank settled back in the chair and gave Bob a conspiratorial look. Kat glanced between them, sighed, and picked up a towel. She tossed it at Frank, as if she knew his type.
It wasn’t the first time Bob had seen Frank’s dick, but it was definitely the longest he’d looked at it intentionally. Kat’s hands manipulated it expertly, holding it in position as she slid a thin tube up Frank’s urethra. Bob shuddered and looked away, focusing on Frank’s face instead.
Bob was pretty sure that almost anyone else in the world would look scared, or at least nervous. Most guys would be screaming before Kat even reached for the needle. Frank looked tense, but not nervous. He reached over toward Bob and flapped his hand until Bob gave in and held it. Kat’s voice was calm, and she didn’t look up. “Brace yourself.”
For years, when Bob looked back on that day, he would be glad that he didn’t look down. Partly because he really didn’t want to see what it looked like to get a cock piercing, but mostly because if he had looked down, he would have missed the expression on Frank’s face. “Oh g-god…” Frank breathed, his mouth dropping open. His eyelashes fluttered and he made a strangled sound, his fingernails digging into Bob’s hand.
Bob swallowed hard, feeling his own cock stir just from watching Frank. He vaguely heard the tattoo artist mutter something about washing the come off of her hands, but he didn’t even care. Frank panted softly, still clinging to Bob’s hand.
“You okay?” Bob asked gruffly, squeezing Frank’s fingers. Frank nodded, dazed.
“Yeah…yeah, m’great.” He grinned. “M’fantastic.”
CAUTION: This fic contains needles applied to generally unsavory places. Not for the squeamish, or needle-phobic.
Bob was pretty sure Frank had mind powers. That was the only viable explanation for why he was doing this. He remembered being asked, and saying no, and then Frank kept pleading and asking and his arguments gradually got more and more convincing. Then Frank had promised to do his share of the dishes for like, two months. And Bob really hated the dishes.
So, whatever the reason, Bob was kneeling beside the couch. Frank was sprawled on his back, shirt off, looking pleased and anticipatory. Bob sighed and looked down at the piercing needle, wrapped in sterile cotton and plastic. “You’re sure about this?”
Frank nodded, his hand twitching a little. “Hell yeah I’m sure.” He shifted. “The left one. Like I told you before.”
“Yeah, yeah. I remember. How come you can’t do this yourself again?” Bob grumbled. He understood why Gerard couldn’t do it, what with the fainting and such, but he really didn’t understand why Frank couldn’t just pierce his own damn nipple.
“My hands shake, and I don’t want to fuck up the angle. I just want it straight across.” Frank’s eyes gleamed as Bob reached down for a piece of ice in a bowl. “Don’t use the ice for too long. I mean, it’ll make the nipple hard, so use it a little - ah, that’s enough.”
Bob had barely touched the ice cube to Frank’s nipple and Frank was already pushing his hand away. Bob frowned. “Isn’t this stuff supposed to numb you, too?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Dude, don’t even worry about it. Just do it, okay?” Frank bit his lower lip, watching Bob take the needle out of the sealed package and clean it off with alcohol. Bob sighed and pinched Frank’s nipple between two fingers. Frank made a soft little moaning noise and Bob cocked an eyebrow.
“Don’t make this weird, man.” He muttered. “I’m just piercing your…” Bob trailed off, realizing that there was no way to say what he was doing and still have it be non-weird. He sighed and lined the needle up, pressing the tip through the hard nub of Frank’s nipple.
Frank’s moan caught Bob totally off guard. He had been expecting a hiss of pain, maybe even a scream, but not a low, rough moan of pleasure. Bob focused on pulling the needle out, and sliding the ring through the hole before he lost his nerve. Frank moaned again when the ring pushed through, his hips arching up off the couch. Oh. Ohhh.
“Are you getting off on this?” Bob asked, stunned. Frank swallowed hard and shook his head quickly. “Nuh…nuh uh.” He mumbled, looking dazed and flushed. Bob chanced a look down and confirmed his suspicions. Frank was rock hard in his jeans. Bob knew he should back off, should leave and not make this weird, but the temptation was too much. He tugged the ring just slightly, taking longer than he needed to close it.
The result was fucking delicious. Frank squirmed, biting his lower lip hard. His face was red, maybe from arousal, maybe from holding his breath. Bob fastened the ring and hesitated, before brushing his thumb lightly over the ring.
“Fuck!” Frank’s self-control completely disintegrated and he grabbed at his crotch, palming himself roughly through his jeans. He made desperate, high-pitched noises, his hips bucking off the couch as he came. Bob did nothing, except idly thumb the fresh piercing, but that seemed to be enough. He moved his hand after Frank came.
Frank lay on the couch, spent and panting. Bob reached down onto the floor and picked up a band-aid, shoving it into Frank’s hand. “You handle that.” He said flatly. Frank just grinned up at him, flushed and sated. He taped the band-aid over his nipple and stretched, relaxing on the couch.
“Thanks Bob. You’re awesome.”
Bob just grunted and got up, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Don’t forget, you owe me a month’s worth of dishes.”
~
Bob didn’t forget about the little incident on the couch. He tried not to think about it too often, but it was hard when Frank seemed to constantly walk around shirtless. If he caught Bob looking, he’d reach up and tweak the nipple ring purposefully, giving Bob a knowing wink.
Bob wasn’t sure how he felt about it. His dick was pretty damn sure though. He spent an extra ten or fifteen minutes in the shower these days, thinking about Frank, and his nipple ring, and the noises Frank made when he came.
Maybe that was the reason that Bob agreed to go with Frank to get another piercing. Even though Frank asked casually, like it was no big deal, Bob could see the gleam in his eye. So he went, and he followed Frank into the back room of the tattoo parlor.
The woman doing the piercing introduced herself as Kat. She looked Bob up and down. “I’m guessing this is your boyfriend?”
Bob shook his head quickly, but Frank laughed and said “Not yet!” Bob scowled at him, folding his arms across his chest. Kat chuckled. “I’m going to go clean up. Get comfortable, Bob, he’s not going to want to walk after I’m through with him.”
The words, or maybe it was the way she’d said them, sent a chill down Bob’s spine. “Uh, Frank? What exactly are you getting pierced?”
Frank grinned and gestured to his crotch. “I thought it’d be fun.” He smirked. “Better with you here. You have to hold my hand. Give me some moral support.” Frank made grabby hands at Bob, and Bob sighed. He pulled his chair closer and reached over to touch Frank’s hand.
“Okay, fine. But this doesn’t mean…” Bob trailed off. Frank had pulled his hand up to his face and he was nuzzling it, nipping Bob’s fingers. “Uh.” Bob coughed. “Look um, can we talk about this after you…uh, after…”
“Ah, hell yeah.” Frank grinned and stopped molesting Bob’s hand just as Kat came back in. Frank settled back in the chair and gave Bob a conspiratorial look. Kat glanced between them, sighed, and picked up a towel. She tossed it at Frank, as if she knew his type.
It wasn’t the first time Bob had seen Frank’s dick, but it was definitely the longest he’d looked at it intentionally. Kat’s hands manipulated it expertly, holding it in position as she slid a thin tube up Frank’s urethra. Bob shuddered and looked away, focusing on Frank’s face instead.
Bob was pretty sure that almost anyone else in the world would look scared, or at least nervous. Most guys would be screaming before Kat even reached for the needle. Frank looked tense, but not nervous. He reached over toward Bob and flapped his hand until Bob gave in and held it. Kat’s voice was calm, and she didn’t look up. “Brace yourself.”
For years, when Bob looked back on that day, he would be glad that he didn’t look down. Partly because he really didn’t want to see what it looked like to get a cock piercing, but mostly because if he had looked down, he would have missed the expression on Frank’s face. “Oh g-god…” Frank breathed, his mouth dropping open. His eyelashes fluttered and he made a strangled sound, his fingernails digging into Bob’s hand.
Bob swallowed hard, feeling his own cock stir just from watching Frank. He vaguely heard the tattoo artist mutter something about washing the come off of her hands, but he didn’t even care. Frank panted softly, still clinging to Bob’s hand.
“You okay?” Bob asked gruffly, squeezing Frank’s fingers. Frank nodded, dazed.
“Yeah…yeah, m’great.” He grinned. “M’fantastic.”