While I'm Still Young and Horny 4/4
Previous| Master Post
[Exceptions to Every Rule]
Florida is very long. There are a lot of places to buy oranges, and pecans, and peaches, and weird shit made of reptiles. Florida is pretty hot. And long. In fact, a lot of the southern states seemed pretty long to Ray. In comparison to Jersey, anyway. Being stuck in the bus for a day of driving between Orlando and Houston was a little nervewracking, it was true, but they were going to get a short hotel stay in the middle of nowhere, and they were going to drive through New Orleans, which was pretty cool, at least. Not that they’d never done it before, but it was still way more interesting than, say, driving through Montana. Or Iowa.
None of which explained why Frank was going stir crazy. Usually, he’d be reading. Or bouncing off the walls. Or sleeping off the night before. Instead, he was lying backwards in Mikey’s bunk (the one below Ray’s) and kicking the bunk ceiling with his bare toes so it thunked underneath Ray’s head.
Thunk.
Thunk.
Thunkathunka.
“Frank?”
A brief pause.
Thunk.
Thunk.
After approximately forty-five seconds of this, Ray jumped off his bunk and hauled Frank bodily off Mikey’s, gripping him firmly by the waist and throwing the wiggly little shit over his shoulder.
“Ray!”
Ray grasped Frank’s legs so they weren’t quite so kicky, and began walking to the back of the bus.
“Shit! Leggo’me!”
Ray just rolled his eyes, at both Frank and the laughter coming from the bunks and the lounge. Apparently Frank had been annoying everyone on the whole damned bus before trying Ray’s patience, too.
Ray got to the door of their makeshift recording studio, and paused. Frank started kicking more. Ray slapped his ass and waited. Less kicking, more of a bulge against Ray’s chest. Better. Predictable little fuck, Ray thought fondly. He shifted his burden so he could manage with one hand, and opened the door. He closed it behind them and threw Frank on the nearest chair.
“The fuck, Ray?” Frank’s face was pink from being suspended over Ray’s shoulder.
“You have a fight with Jamia?”
“No...?” Frank sounded confused.
“Are the girls sick or something?”
“No, they’re fine.” Frank was definitely calming down.
Thank god for that, Ray thought, about the girls and Frank both. Out loud, he said, “Anything else that might be bothering you?” Frank scowled in response. “Okay, I’m gonna break this rule once - once, okay?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You hurt my equipment, I’m never doing that thing you like again,” Ray threatened.
Frank’s eyes darkened as he caught on. “Wait, which thing?”
“Possibly? Any of them,” Ray said mildly, taking off his shirt. He unbuttoned his shorts and stuck his hand down his fly, looking at Frank.
“Fuck, Ray. Um. I won’t fuck with the equipment?” Frank swallowed, his shoulder twitching; it was a sign that he’d started to reach for Ray and then realized he was probably supposed to try to behave for upwards of a minute. A good sign, Ray decided.
Ray nodded, palming his own cock through his boxers almost idly.
“I won’t kick Mikey’s bunk?” Frank tried.
Ray grinned, then closed his eyes, tilted his head back, still moving his hand, and waited for Frank to lose his shit.
“Ray, c’mon.” Frank made a panicked, breathy little sound that might’ve had a soft curse buried in it somewhere, followed by a faint scuffling noise.
Ray opened his eyes again. Frank was out of his chair and zeroing in on Ray’s still-halfway-zipped fly. “Ah-ah. Get naked, you.” Ray grinned, moving to snag a bottle of lube from his gig bag as Frank pulled off his own shirt and pants in no time flat.
“How do you want me?” Frank bit his lip trying not to grin, correctly intuiting Ray’s intentions.
“Hmm. I dunno.” Ray kicked off his shorts and boxers. “You have anything in mind?”
“Hell, yes. I want you behind me, want you to fuck me so hard I get fuckin’ rug burn.” Frank was grinning full-force, a wicked, manic look in his eyes.
He had a point. The rest of the bus wasn’t carpeted, but the studio was, to help soundproofing. If eggcrate foam weren’t so hard to walk on, Ray was sure they’d have put it on the floor, too, but as it was, the carpeting worked pretty well. It’d work well enough for what Frank wanted, at least. Ray smiled. “Show me.”
Frank dropped to his knees and gave Ray a cheeky look before putting his hands on the floor, stretching into it like a cat. He twitched his head left, then right, popping his neck. Ray frowned at the nervous tic, reminded how tense Frankie was. He knelt behind him, smoothing a hand down Frank’s side, over the guns on his back. Frank moaned, cutting himself off with a hiccuped gasp when Ray let his fingers drift over the crack of Frank’s ass.
Ray pulled away, squirting some lube in the palm of his hand to warm it and then touching just the pad of his fingertip against Frank, waiting until he relaxed against it, let him move a little before pushing slowly into Frank’s body. Silky wet heat slid around his finger, and Frank sighed contentedly. It was impressive, really, how well shit like this worked when Frankie was going nuts. When he was too tense to read, you had this wiggly, manic, annoying little loudmouth. Stick something up his ass or get his dick wet, and presto-change-o! Calm prevailed.
Ray’s thoughts were interrupted by a frenzied litany of pleading. Or not, Ray amended mentally.
“C’mon, c’mon, Ray, please, can’t fuckin’ wait, just lemme...” Frank lifted his head like a wolf about to howl, the muscles in his shoulders cording up. Ray slid out his finger and slicked up his cock, thinking he’d slide his way in slowly, open Frank up inch by inch. But as soon as he was the tiniest bit inside, Frankie shoved back fast and brutal, letting out a choked cry that made Ray glad for the soundproofing. Ray watched the back of Frank’s head tilt back a little more, then fall forward.
“Ray--” Frankie managed, and it was high and soft and guttural all at once, barely even sounding like a word, and Ray felt terrible, letting him go for it like that, all of a sudden. Ray was about to pull out, get some more lube, but Frank’s hand flew from the floor to Ray’s thigh, fingertips digging in hard.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Frank panted. “Rug burn, motherfucker.” He squeezed Ray’s thigh a little harder to make his point before letting go, dropping his arm down and hunching down on his forearms. It made Frank’s hips tilt up, obscene-perfect, and Ray gripped them, slid out just a tiny bit and slammed in hard. He wasn’t sure if it’d be too much or not enough. Judging by the faint squeal he heard from Frankie, immediately followed by a gratified, hungry moan, it was both.
Ray tried it again, out slowly a couple inches, in hard enough to make his balls slap against Frank’s. This time, he only heard the moan. He stopped again, slid out once more, and this time he didn’t let up. Frank was perfect, tight, shuddering around Ray with every unrelenting thrust he gave.
Usually, Frankie would be giving as good as he got, moving back against Ray, goading him with demands and praises and random half-realized fantasies. Today, he just made little noises, letting his head fall further towards the floor. Ray wasn’t capable of doing much about it beyond sinking down with him until Ray was bent over Frank, curled around him and pushing him into the carpet. Ray came like that, his blood pounding in his ears, one arm propping himself up, one arm pinning Frank down. He stayed there for a moment, remembering how to breathe.
Ray moved his arms, steadying with a hand on Frankie’s hip and pulling out, slow and gentle like he just hadn’t been. Frank twitched under him, and Ray knelt up, nudging his shoulder to encourage him to roll over.
“Jesus wept, Frankie, look at you,” Ray breathed. Frank’s eyes were huge, glazed over with lust, his legs splayed open. Ray could see the red chafe marks he’d wanted, on his knees and under the ink on his forearms. He glanced down, swallowed at the sight of Frank’s cock flushed red, sticky against his belly, saw Frank’s thigh wet where his dick had brushed against the skin, between his legs, asshole puffy-pink and shiny with slick. It occurred to Ray that Frank was saying something.
“...gonna look all day, shit, am I, like, fucked open and dripping or something? You wanna feel, go ahead, shove your fingers in me, feel empty without you, c’mon, Ray, fuck, feeling this for two days anyway,” and he might have still been talking, but he lifted up his hips and Ray got distracted by the way he suddenly needed to slide two fingers into Frank’s ass. His fingers went in soft and easy, and Frank stopped talking and started keening.
The noise went down Ray’s spine, chased a sweet ache like an aftershock, and Ray groaned, settling low so he could suck Frank’s cock. Clean skin and sweat and Frank’s honeyed toffee soap and sex and sticky precome slid over his tongue. Ray tightened the fingers of his other hand around the base of Frank’s shaft and hummed, pleased as he felt fingers tangle gently in his hair. Any second now. Ray added a finger, twisted them a little, pressed, rubbed his tongue against the underside of Frank’s cock. Little ripples of tension rolled through his mouth. That was it, and Ray hung on, swallowing while Frank gave a muffled shout and jerked his hips.
Frank groaned. “Holy shit.”
Ray relaxed his jaw and fingers, pulled away, and laid his head on Frank’s thigh. “Yeah.”
Frank looked around, smoothing Ray’s hair away from his face. “Didn’t break anything.”
[Everything Really is Bigger in Texas]
Gerard was impressed for two reasons: one, Frank had managed to get a pretty nice hotel suite in Dallas; and two, that Frank hadn’t stripped everyone including himself and declared the gangbang ‘on’ the moment the door was closed. Maybe he was growing a sense of restraint.
“Well, this hotel isn’t as swanky as the last hotel,” Ray observed conversationally.
“But still a complimentary basket of lube and condoms,” Frank noticed, head tilted to the side, radiating barely contained energy. “Huh. California king, too.”
Maybe it really is customary to expect this sort of thing when you’re discreet in the planning of an orgy and book the swankiest suite, Gerard mused. Mikey would know. He suspected Mikey ended up at more than his fair share of orgies. Not that Gerard could really point any fingers about whose share of group sex was what. Mikey’s probably involved Pete Wentz, though. Gerard spent some moments considering the merits of such adventures before Pedicone interrupted.
“There was a basket before?” Pedicone asked, sounding a little surprised and a little suspicious and a little like he couldn’t figure out just what the fuck he was doing here.
Poor guy. We really should have thought of him sooner, Gerard considered, thinking of Mike’s many fine qualities.
“Not all orgies can happen at Hotel Babylon,” Mikey said, looking just this side of nostalgic.
“I have dreams about that shower,” Frank said, reverently. “Dreams.”
“Jamia will kill you if you try to renovate,” Pedicone warned.
“Which is why I haven’t brought up my evil plans involving multiple showerheads and a steam room,” Frank nodded. He probably had blueprints. Lots of them. He was pretty good at planning. And pretending to be completely nonchalant about this shit.
Gerard adjusted his pants and crossed his arms over his chest and made himself frown, restraining from tapping his foot with impatience.
“Were you thinking some sort of granite monstrosity too?” Mikey asked.
“Maybe a little,” Frank shrugged. “Actually, slate tile would be nice. Dark slate. The kind of color that would look good with creamy skin pressed against it.”
“You are such a perv for Jamia,” Ray grinned and spared an expectant glance at Pedicone. Pedicone lifted an eyebrow. He was still learning the cues. Gerard was pretty sure that if they were onstage, playing a show, Pedicone wouldn’t have missed a beat there. Gerard was pretty sure Ray was asking for something. He had better be asking for something, anyway. Gerard’d been half-hard thinking about this since before the show yesterday. He was used to walking around with a semi-permanent stiffy onstage, but this was a bit much.
“Who said I was just thinking of Jamia?” Frank smirked.
“Equal opportunity slut, then.” Mikey shook his head, but Gerard knew that look. It was a little bemused and a little fond, with a good dash of filth, and it was all Frank’s. Which was adorable, but--
“Guys,” Gerard interrupted, because they could probably discuss Frank’s promiscuity for days.
“You have no idea,” Pedicone muttered, letting Gerard know he’d said that last bit out loud, and frowned at Ray, who pointedly looked at Mike’s bag.
“Oh, we do,” Ray agreed, lifting an eyebrow.
“Oh, dude, you should have just said,” Pedicone said, finally catching on, opening his bag and digging around. “All this eyebrow shit ain’t gonna cut it.”
“Guys,” Gerard could admit he was starting to sound a little whiny. It was like they were all doing it on purpose.
They all turned to look at him then, eyes wild and radiating barely-contained lust. It was like a wall. A wall of sex. Holy shit. That was kind of a lot of very intense focus to have on him all at once. Gerard swallowed and licked his lips. Maybe this was too much. An orgy was all well and good, but knowing in the pit of his stomach that he was going to get fucked by everyone in the room was a different thing altogether. Four hot guys were gonna wear him out piece by piece, orgasm by orgasm, just like he wanted. He rubbed at his own neck self-consciously.
“Goddamn,” he said softly.
“Did you think we were going to just talk all night?” Mikey chuckled low in Gerard’s ear, reaching for his shirt and unbuttoning. Gerard let the material slide off his shoulders and felt goosebumps following in its wake.
“I wasn’t sure,” Gerard allowed.
Frank giggled, standing in front of Gerard, undoing his belt. “You thought we were ignoring you?” he asked, tossing the belt away, bending to slide Gee’s boots off. “We could never ignore you.”
“We’re gonna take good care of you,” Mikey promised, eyes dark as he took off Gerard’s pants, sliding off his underwear with them. Gerard stepped out of both and shivered at the chill of the room.
Mikey and Frank stepped away to be replaced by Ray, looking at Gerard thoughtfully, and Pedicone, holding a pair of fur-lined cuffs and wow, that was a decent length of rope. You could do a lot with that.
“I guess you all did go shopping,” Gerard said out loud, a little squeak to his voice as he recalled the conversation Mikey had had with Ray. “Is that silk rope?”
“Yeah, didn’t think I was being too kinky with that purchase,” Pedicone muttered. “Hand-dyed.”
Gerard moved to touch the loops and coils, but Ray reached a hand out and tugged Gerard’s head to the side by the hair. Gerard sighed and stilled.
“Answers that question,” Ray said, a glimmer of a smile in the corner of his mouth.
“Huh,” Pedicone observed, licking his lips and tossing the cuffs back towards his bags.
“Arms in front,” Ray instructed, reaching for the rope with his other hand.
“Here,” Mikey interrupted, an intensity in his eyes. “I’ll get this side.”
Gerard shivered when Mikey stepped over and took the rope from Ray. He started at Gerard’s wrist, long fingers squeezing for a moment, then wrapping the rope around, and gently maneuvering rope and arms, wrapping and binding. Ray let go of his hair and got his other wrist, leaving Mikey to secure the whole thing together. Gerard chewed on his lip, forcing himself to keep still. Fuck he thought. They’re really doing this. We’re really doing this.
Mikey kissed his forehead when he finished and Gerard sighed. His arms bent at the elbow, one on top of the other like his arms were crossed, and tied together with rope matching his hair. He had a fleeting thought that someone did that on purpose. But any thoughts were forgotten when the first set of calloused hands touched his ass. They could have belonged to anyone, but he was sure they were Frank’s. Especially when lips ghosted across the base of his spine. Gerard jumped and Ray grabbed his hair again. Shit, that was nice. In fact, if Ray was just holding onto Gerard’s hair the entire night, that would be totally fine with Gerard.
Mikey thumbed a knot in the ropes and looked Gerard up and down. He must look good, because Mikey’s eyes flashed hot and dark and he leaned in for a kiss, biting Gerard’s lip before pulling away.
“Guys, we need to get him less vertical,” Frank whispered, already sounding positively strung-out on sex.
“How much less vertical?” Ray asked, loosing his fingers from Gerard’s hair and letting them tease along his jaw instead. Gerard shivered.
“Enough so I can eat him out,” Frank nuzzled at Gerard’s ass.
“Damn,” Pedicone breathed. “So you wanna get him on his knees. On the bed? I could hold his arms. Or not...?” Mike trailed off in a way that made him sound adorably unsure of his own forwardness.
“Mike,” Mikey said.
“Yeah?” Pedicone asked.
“We invited you to a fucking gangbang.” Frank clarified.
“C’mere,” Mikey said, waving a hand. He stepped behind Pedicone, put one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, and moved him forward so he was standing in front of Gerard. Ray and Mikey melted away, and Frank stopped whatever he was doing. Gerard looked down at his bound arms and lack of clothing, then back up at Mike. He was looking too, and when his eyes came back up, Gerard grinned sheepishly.
“Hi.” Gerard bit his lip, trying not to laugh.
Mike lifted his head, hooked a finger through Gerard’s ropes, pulling at them a little, and smiled back. “Hey.”
Gerard lifted his chin a fraction in what he thought was a clear indication of “Come on, make out with me, I’d grab your hair but you don’t have any and my hands are tied. Literally.” Mike seemed to get the hint, anyway, and leaned past Gerard’s bound arms to cup his chin and kiss him. His stubble scraped pleasantly, and despite making out with a tied-up guy he was about to help gangbang, he let Gerard take the lead. His lips pressed firmly but not too hard, softening further when Gerard’s tongue darted out to taste his mouth. Mike’s tongue flicked back in response, tentative until Gerard moaned encouragingly. Then aggressive, kissing back until Gerard was breathless and grinding against his leg, trying to hold onto the fabric of his shirt with the little bit of wiggle room Gerard’s fingers had.
“Fuck,” Pedicone breathed when they broke apart.
Frank looked from Gerard to Pedicone, and waggled his eyebrows. “Toldja.”
Mike made a huffing sound and pulled his shirt over his head, backing towards the bed. Gerard took a moment to appreciate all that skin, those strong shoulders, the ink. He should make Mike take off his shirt for every show. How Gerard could have forgotten how Pedicone looked, he wasn’t sure. He just wanted to lick his chest, distracted as Mike reached out to him.
Gerard crawled on to the bed and leaned, letting Pedicone hold him up, and that was a helluva nice feeling. Ray crawled on the bed too, scooting right next to him. Ray’d lost his shirt, too. And pants, Gerard noticed as he leaned over further. Frank was back behind him, encouraging him to part his legs more. Then lips pressed a gentle kiss at the top of his crack, followed by a tongue darting in and down, and did. Not. Stop. Gerard’s brain went on vacation, lulled away by waves of pleasure as Frank licked everywhere.
Gerard moaned and bucked against the arms holding him, pushing back against Frank’s face. Frank hummed, tongue teasing Gerard’s asshole and darting in, licking him open and driving him completely insane. It didn’t help that Ray was sucking a hickey on his neck and encouraging Pedicone to do the same on the other side.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Mikey’s voice came from somewhere behind Gerard.
“Gonna kill me. Shit. Shit. Shit,” Gerard babbled, not quite in response.
Just when he thought it was too much, that he wouldn’t last, that it wasn’t enough, Frank pulled away, leaving him feeling empty, cold as the air hit his skin.
Gerard whimpered and noticed Ray holding him up instead of Mike and Pedicone scooting off the bed and maybe the snap of a bottle cap.
“You sure?” Pedicone asked.
Gerard had missed something. An important something.
“You heard me,” Mikey answered. “Fuck him open. Slow. He’s ready for it, aren’t you Gerard. He’s leaking for it.”
Gerard whimpered. “Please, Mike. Please.”
“Shit,” Pedicone swallowed. “Shit, fine.” He rested a hand on Gerard’s hip, fingers curling, thumb rubbing gentle circles as he pushed slowly in.
“C’mon,” Gerard tried to push back, but Ray held him fast. It was too slow, not enough. Gerard whined in frustration.
Pedicone must have rolled his hips, because all at once Gerard felt split in two. Pedicone was thick. “Damn,” Pedicone sounded awed. “So hot and tight and Jesus.”
“Move,” Mikey urged.
“Fuckyeah,” Gerard agreed breathlessly.
Pedicone slowly slid almost all the way out, added more lube, and worked his way back in. Oh, god, further. Gerard hadn’t known that there was a further to go, but Mike just kept pushing into him until he was balls-flush and Gerard thought he was going to die. His heart was going to stop, it was so good, he was so full. Mike started a rhythm, a slow frustrating rhythm, building and shifting and trying his best to take Gerard apart one beat at a time.
“Not gonna last,” Pedicone panted. “Him first?”
Gerard almost couldn’t discern what or who he was asking. Gerard was fraying. His fucking drummer was fucking him into oblivion.
“Don’t last,” Mikey answered. “He can wait.”
Gerard moaned in response. He could just see Mikey lifting a knowing, smug eyebrow at Pedicone. Such an evil asshole, Gerard thought fondly. He’d probably been taking lessons from Ray.
Pedicone was frantically thrusting now, coming apart at the seams with each push forward. He shouted Gerard’s name when he came. Gerard’s cock felt impossibly hard, pulsing and twitching, incredibly close.
Pedicone pulled out and promptly collapsed bedside him on the bed.
“You know what?” Frank asked, appearing behind Gerard, sounding thoughtful.
“Yeah, you should totally spit-roast him with Ray,” Mikey answered, doing his mind-reading thing. Or maybe Frank had been making rude gestures again.
Gerard’s cock twitched and he moaned, because hot damn, was that a good idea.
“Goddamnit,” Pedicone muttered, moving to stand. “Gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
Frank didn’t need any more invitation than that, spreading Gerard with one hand and lining up with the other. He slid in just the head of his cock, then waited for the space of a breath before thrusting all the way home and waiting again as Ray got into place. Gerard darted his tongue out and licked, tasting salt and something distinctly musky and Ray underneath. He didn’t get a chance to savor it, because Ray snapped his hips and forced Gerard to suck him down. Gerard moaned around his cock, waiting for Ray to grab a fistful of hair again. He wasn’t disappointed. Pedicone’s fingers were digging into his shoulders holding him in place, Frank was fucking him hard and fast, Ray’s cock was down his throat, and Mikey’s eyes were on them all. It was too much. He wasn’t going to last.
Frank grunted praises into his back. Ray was speaking but Gerard couldn’t make out any of the words. He felt like he was out of his body. Floating. But somebody must have said something, because the next thing Gerard knew, his mouth was empty and his was getting a warm shot of Ray’s come on his cheek and sliding down his neck. Frank pulled out and shot all over his ass. Gerard made a keening noise.
He was still hard. Goddamn amazing assholes. His head was swimming, he was so close.
“Can you prop yourself on your arms for me, Gee?” Mikey asked.
Gerard nodded and Pedicone lowered him down onto the bed with his ass sticking in the air. The bed bounced a little as Pedicone and Ray slid off. They could go make out as far as he was concerned. They should go make out. He’d only be sad he didn’t get to see it. And Frank could help. Frankie was always helpful like that. But that wasn’t Gerard’s focus at the moment.
Gerard’s whole world was narrowed down to one person right now. He could feel Mikey’s gaze, his full attention on Gerard. Mikey would take care of him.
Mikey’s hands ghosted down Gerard’s back. One stopped to smear the come Frank had left.
“Look at you,” Mikey spoke. “All fucked open and jizzed on. Gonna be fucking easy for me, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Gerard answered, voice hoarse and fucked-out. “Please, Mikey. Please.”
Mikey shoved in with one smooth roll of his hips and did not let up, not for a second. “Like this?” Mikey asked, thrusting relentlessly. “Hard and fast and--” he shifted his angle hitting Gerard just right and Gee moaned appreciatively.
“Fuck, yeah,” Gerard panted. “Mikey.”
Mikey reached around and started to jack Gerard in time with his thrusts. Gerard wasn’t going to last. He didn’t know if he’d survive this. It felt like it’d been fucking years waiting to come, like he was shaking with need, weak from it.
“Close, Mikey,” Gerard warned. “Please.”
“C’mon,” Mikey urged, and kissed the back of Gerard’s neck and Gerard came undone, finally, shooting all over Mikey’s hand and his belly and the bed and the fucking walls for all Gerard knew.
“Gee,” Mikey gasped, a split-open cry and came, pinning Gerard into the newly-made wetspot and thrusting in hard with a gasp. He stayed there for a moment, clutching tightly and still in deep, before slumping heavily on Gerard’s back.
“Holy fuck,” Pedicone said, breathlessly. Which was Gerard’s first clue that Frank, Mike and Ray had not, in fact, gone anywhere. They’d been sprawled in a pile, watching. Gerard found enough energy to turn his head. Ray was at the pillow, Pedicone at the foot, with Frank draped over both of them. Mikey moaned softly and rolled off of and out of Gerard, who belatedly realized his arms were killing him.
“Lemme outta these?”
“Gotta turn over,” Mikey said. It took a few moments, but Gerard did. Mikey undid the knots, hanging the rope off the headboard when it was free, and kissed the red circles around Gerard’s wrists. Gerard stretched, groaning, and shook his hands limply before letting them fall to his sides. Something white came into his field of vision. Fluffy. A towel. Gerard gestured weakly and let his hands fall again. Fuckit. Whoever it was could do this shit for him, if they wanted him to clean up so badly. It was Ray who appeared over the bits of white fluff, dabbing gently and smiling for all the world like Gerard had just baked him a pie, or something similarly wholesome, instead of taking several cumshots to various parts of his anatomy. Gerard smiled back because, well, Ray made him feel like that. Some pillows got propped up under his head and he just lay there for a little while until a glass of water got put in his face. That looked pretty good, and Frank held on to it while Gerard sipped slowly. All this being-taken-care-of shit was kind of nice when he wasn’t too trashed to notice. Okay, whatever. They were talking now, and Gerard was pretty sure it was about him.
“...so good, right, especially when you get a, y’know, like that?” Frank was setting the empty glass down on the bedside table and probably making some gestures.
“Oh! Um. Yeah.” Pedicone’s voice, and Gerard felt tentative fingers smoothing his hair. Seriously, how was Mike so fucking sweet? Were drummers always like this? Or was MCR just kind of special? First Bob and now Mike. Adorable. Gerard leaned into the touch, making a soft pleased noise. “I just wish...” Mike trailed off.
Gerard opened his eyes, mostly waiting for the hand to start petting his hair again. Maybe a little curious, too.
“What?” Ray asked.
“Doggy style is fuckin’ awesome.” Pedicone said. Like he needed some sort of disclaimer. “I just kind of wanted to see. Um.” Mike cleared his throat and looked down at Gerard, like it was suddenly awkward talking about him in the third person. Gerard looked back up and tried to appear receptive. Mike actually blushed at the eye contact. Blushed. Adorable. Gerard waited. “Kinda wanted to see you come,” Mike said to him.
Gerard grinned. “I’m still right here, man.”
Mike looked away, like he was going to blush some more. Frank nudged him. “He means he can go again. Guy’s, like, the Energizer fucking Bunny or some shit. Ask Mikey.”
There was some shifting on the bed. Gerard wasn’t all that ready to move yet, but he heard Mikey offer, “You wanna see, we’ll pin him down, spread him out for you. Gee’s fucking pretty when he comes.”
“Holyshit.” The last bit was a little muffled from Mike rubbing his hand over his face, then interrupted with a soft noise of surprise. Gerard looked over. Mikey had his tongue down Pedicone’s throat. Nobody appeared to be complaining, least of all Pedicone. Frank looked like somebody had just given him a present, Ray was trailing his fingers down Mikey’s spine, and Pedicone... should have something in his mouth all the time. At least, that’s what Gerard’s dick seemed to think, having taken a decided interest in the proceedings.
“...hnng,” Pedicone managed, when Mikey broke off.
“Yeah,” Mikey replied, sounding like there was a conversation Gerard had missed, somehow. “Over here, Frankie. Ray, like that.”
Frank stood up and moved around, throwing himself on the other side of the bed. Then Frank was kissing Gerard, familiar and perfect and messy, his short fingers sliding down Gerard’s thigh and groping-- no, grabbing. Frank pulled away and grinned, first at Gerard and then across the bed to Ray, who smiled back and picked up where Frank had left off, kissing Gerard soundly.
Ray’s hands wrapped around Gerard’s knee. “That tickles....whoa!” Gerard managed to blurt out as both Frank and Ray pushed his knees towards his chest, holding his legs apart. “Oh!” Gerard said, looking up. There was Mike, looking pleasantly shocked. Gerard felt a wicked grin creep across his face. He licked his lips. “Is this more like it?”
“Yeah?” Pedicone still sounded a little unsure, but that might have had something to do with Mikey being behind him, and whatever Mikey’s hand was doing...oh. Pedicone’s hands were on top of Frank’s and Ray’s, but Mikey was lining up Pedicone’s cock, pressing against Gerard’s ass, and then giving a pointed nudge. “Oh, god, yeah.” That sounded a lot more sure. Gerard bit his lip, flashing a come-hither look that always seemed to work when Mike was drumming, and arched up. Pedicone’s cock twitched as Mikey’s fingers brushed over Gerard’s ass and drifted away.
“Mikey...Mike...shit, yeah,” Gerard encouraged, not really knowing where to even start. Mike took the hint and slid in all the way, lightly slick. Mikey must have lubed him up a little, which was good. Pedicone was so thick; it was easier than the first time, but still. It made Gerard glad for Frank and Ray, pulling his legs open. Mikey, doing whatever Mikey was doing. All Gerard had to do was lie there and let his brain leak out his ears.
“Fuck, yeah, god,” Gerard gasped as Mike settled into a slow beat, then, “Frank,” as Gerard felt fingers sneaking in on his right to settle easily around his cock, not jacking him off yet, just squeezing in time. Mike was making some seriously nice appreciative noises, with Ray joining in occasionally.
Wait, what? Gerard didn’t get it until Ray’s hands slipped away from Gerard’s thigh, quickly replaced by one of Mike’s. Gerard looked over to see Ray’s head falling onto the pillow next to his, Mikey throwing a leg over to ride him like a pony. And then the whole room was full of good noises. Pedicone started fucking Gerard in earnest, slamming in, and Frank’s fingers were moving, squeezing, jacking Gerard so fucking perfectly. Time spun out, heavy with sensation, sparkly at the edges of his eyes. Mikey was making that sound, that broken little sound that meant he was already close, so close, anything would tip him over the edge.
“Mike, shit, please. Don’t stop. But. Pull. Pull his hair. Fuck.” Gerard breathed, jerking his head Mikey’s direction. Pedicone let go of his leg and Gerard wrapped it high around his inked torso, grinning when there was a gasp, a plea, and a grunted curse coming from his brother, and then Ray.
And then Mike’s hand was back, pushing Gerard down, pinning him hard, and there was nothing left but Frankie and Mike, pushing him, stroking him, filling him until his toes curled and he was coming, coming hard and shouting something guttural with his eyes squeezed shut.
Gerard got his breath back, becoming dimly aware that he was trapped under a mountain. A muscled drummer-mountain that smelled nice. And was sticky. No, Gerard was sticky. No, everyone was sticky.
“Mmrrmn,” Gerard heard himself say. Rife with fucking eloquence, there. Whatever, Pedicone seemed to get the point and rolled a little. Now Gerard was less under a mountain and more in a haphazard pile of sticky naked dudes. “Mmmm,” he amended, content. Being in a pile of sticky naked dudes was the best thing ever.
“Shit,” Frank responded with similar contentment, summing everything up.
Gerard agreed wholeheartedly. He really fucking loved his band.
Master Post
Bonus Content:
Fanart:
[While I’m Still Young and Horny] by turlough ♥
Fanmix:
Closer by manuanya ♥
[Exceptions to Every Rule]
Florida is very long. There are a lot of places to buy oranges, and pecans, and peaches, and weird shit made of reptiles. Florida is pretty hot. And long. In fact, a lot of the southern states seemed pretty long to Ray. In comparison to Jersey, anyway. Being stuck in the bus for a day of driving between Orlando and Houston was a little nervewracking, it was true, but they were going to get a short hotel stay in the middle of nowhere, and they were going to drive through New Orleans, which was pretty cool, at least. Not that they’d never done it before, but it was still way more interesting than, say, driving through Montana. Or Iowa.
None of which explained why Frank was going stir crazy. Usually, he’d be reading. Or bouncing off the walls. Or sleeping off the night before. Instead, he was lying backwards in Mikey’s bunk (the one below Ray’s) and kicking the bunk ceiling with his bare toes so it thunked underneath Ray’s head.
Thunk.
Thunk.
Thunkathunka.
“Frank?”
A brief pause.
Thunk.
Thunk.
After approximately forty-five seconds of this, Ray jumped off his bunk and hauled Frank bodily off Mikey’s, gripping him firmly by the waist and throwing the wiggly little shit over his shoulder.
“Ray!”
Ray grasped Frank’s legs so they weren’t quite so kicky, and began walking to the back of the bus.
“Shit! Leggo’me!”
Ray just rolled his eyes, at both Frank and the laughter coming from the bunks and the lounge. Apparently Frank had been annoying everyone on the whole damned bus before trying Ray’s patience, too.
Ray got to the door of their makeshift recording studio, and paused. Frank started kicking more. Ray slapped his ass and waited. Less kicking, more of a bulge against Ray’s chest. Better. Predictable little fuck, Ray thought fondly. He shifted his burden so he could manage with one hand, and opened the door. He closed it behind them and threw Frank on the nearest chair.
“The fuck, Ray?” Frank’s face was pink from being suspended over Ray’s shoulder.
“You have a fight with Jamia?”
“No...?” Frank sounded confused.
“Are the girls sick or something?”
“No, they’re fine.” Frank was definitely calming down.
Thank god for that, Ray thought, about the girls and Frank both. Out loud, he said, “Anything else that might be bothering you?” Frank scowled in response. “Okay, I’m gonna break this rule once - once, okay?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You hurt my equipment, I’m never doing that thing you like again,” Ray threatened.
Frank’s eyes darkened as he caught on. “Wait, which thing?”
“Possibly? Any of them,” Ray said mildly, taking off his shirt. He unbuttoned his shorts and stuck his hand down his fly, looking at Frank.
“Fuck, Ray. Um. I won’t fuck with the equipment?” Frank swallowed, his shoulder twitching; it was a sign that he’d started to reach for Ray and then realized he was probably supposed to try to behave for upwards of a minute. A good sign, Ray decided.
Ray nodded, palming his own cock through his boxers almost idly.
“I won’t kick Mikey’s bunk?” Frank tried.
Ray grinned, then closed his eyes, tilted his head back, still moving his hand, and waited for Frank to lose his shit.
“Ray, c’mon.” Frank made a panicked, breathy little sound that might’ve had a soft curse buried in it somewhere, followed by a faint scuffling noise.
Ray opened his eyes again. Frank was out of his chair and zeroing in on Ray’s still-halfway-zipped fly. “Ah-ah. Get naked, you.” Ray grinned, moving to snag a bottle of lube from his gig bag as Frank pulled off his own shirt and pants in no time flat.
“How do you want me?” Frank bit his lip trying not to grin, correctly intuiting Ray’s intentions.
“Hmm. I dunno.” Ray kicked off his shorts and boxers. “You have anything in mind?”
“Hell, yes. I want you behind me, want you to fuck me so hard I get fuckin’ rug burn.” Frank was grinning full-force, a wicked, manic look in his eyes.
He had a point. The rest of the bus wasn’t carpeted, but the studio was, to help soundproofing. If eggcrate foam weren’t so hard to walk on, Ray was sure they’d have put it on the floor, too, but as it was, the carpeting worked pretty well. It’d work well enough for what Frank wanted, at least. Ray smiled. “Show me.”
Frank dropped to his knees and gave Ray a cheeky look before putting his hands on the floor, stretching into it like a cat. He twitched his head left, then right, popping his neck. Ray frowned at the nervous tic, reminded how tense Frankie was. He knelt behind him, smoothing a hand down Frank’s side, over the guns on his back. Frank moaned, cutting himself off with a hiccuped gasp when Ray let his fingers drift over the crack of Frank’s ass.
Ray pulled away, squirting some lube in the palm of his hand to warm it and then touching just the pad of his fingertip against Frank, waiting until he relaxed against it, let him move a little before pushing slowly into Frank’s body. Silky wet heat slid around his finger, and Frank sighed contentedly. It was impressive, really, how well shit like this worked when Frankie was going nuts. When he was too tense to read, you had this wiggly, manic, annoying little loudmouth. Stick something up his ass or get his dick wet, and presto-change-o! Calm prevailed.
Ray’s thoughts were interrupted by a frenzied litany of pleading. Or not, Ray amended mentally.
“C’mon, c’mon, Ray, please, can’t fuckin’ wait, just lemme...” Frank lifted his head like a wolf about to howl, the muscles in his shoulders cording up. Ray slid out his finger and slicked up his cock, thinking he’d slide his way in slowly, open Frank up inch by inch. But as soon as he was the tiniest bit inside, Frankie shoved back fast and brutal, letting out a choked cry that made Ray glad for the soundproofing. Ray watched the back of Frank’s head tilt back a little more, then fall forward.
“Ray--” Frankie managed, and it was high and soft and guttural all at once, barely even sounding like a word, and Ray felt terrible, letting him go for it like that, all of a sudden. Ray was about to pull out, get some more lube, but Frank’s hand flew from the floor to Ray’s thigh, fingertips digging in hard.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Frank panted. “Rug burn, motherfucker.” He squeezed Ray’s thigh a little harder to make his point before letting go, dropping his arm down and hunching down on his forearms. It made Frank’s hips tilt up, obscene-perfect, and Ray gripped them, slid out just a tiny bit and slammed in hard. He wasn’t sure if it’d be too much or not enough. Judging by the faint squeal he heard from Frankie, immediately followed by a gratified, hungry moan, it was both.
Ray tried it again, out slowly a couple inches, in hard enough to make his balls slap against Frank’s. This time, he only heard the moan. He stopped again, slid out once more, and this time he didn’t let up. Frank was perfect, tight, shuddering around Ray with every unrelenting thrust he gave.
Usually, Frankie would be giving as good as he got, moving back against Ray, goading him with demands and praises and random half-realized fantasies. Today, he just made little noises, letting his head fall further towards the floor. Ray wasn’t capable of doing much about it beyond sinking down with him until Ray was bent over Frank, curled around him and pushing him into the carpet. Ray came like that, his blood pounding in his ears, one arm propping himself up, one arm pinning Frank down. He stayed there for a moment, remembering how to breathe.
Ray moved his arms, steadying with a hand on Frankie’s hip and pulling out, slow and gentle like he just hadn’t been. Frank twitched under him, and Ray knelt up, nudging his shoulder to encourage him to roll over.
“Jesus wept, Frankie, look at you,” Ray breathed. Frank’s eyes were huge, glazed over with lust, his legs splayed open. Ray could see the red chafe marks he’d wanted, on his knees and under the ink on his forearms. He glanced down, swallowed at the sight of Frank’s cock flushed red, sticky against his belly, saw Frank’s thigh wet where his dick had brushed against the skin, between his legs, asshole puffy-pink and shiny with slick. It occurred to Ray that Frank was saying something.
“...gonna look all day, shit, am I, like, fucked open and dripping or something? You wanna feel, go ahead, shove your fingers in me, feel empty without you, c’mon, Ray, fuck, feeling this for two days anyway,” and he might have still been talking, but he lifted up his hips and Ray got distracted by the way he suddenly needed to slide two fingers into Frank’s ass. His fingers went in soft and easy, and Frank stopped talking and started keening.
The noise went down Ray’s spine, chased a sweet ache like an aftershock, and Ray groaned, settling low so he could suck Frank’s cock. Clean skin and sweat and Frank’s honeyed toffee soap and sex and sticky precome slid over his tongue. Ray tightened the fingers of his other hand around the base of Frank’s shaft and hummed, pleased as he felt fingers tangle gently in his hair. Any second now. Ray added a finger, twisted them a little, pressed, rubbed his tongue against the underside of Frank’s cock. Little ripples of tension rolled through his mouth. That was it, and Ray hung on, swallowing while Frank gave a muffled shout and jerked his hips.
Frank groaned. “Holy shit.”
Ray relaxed his jaw and fingers, pulled away, and laid his head on Frank’s thigh. “Yeah.”
Frank looked around, smoothing Ray’s hair away from his face. “Didn’t break anything.”
[Everything Really is Bigger in Texas]
Gerard was impressed for two reasons: one, Frank had managed to get a pretty nice hotel suite in Dallas; and two, that Frank hadn’t stripped everyone including himself and declared the gangbang ‘on’ the moment the door was closed. Maybe he was growing a sense of restraint.
“Well, this hotel isn’t as swanky as the last hotel,” Ray observed conversationally.
“But still a complimentary basket of lube and condoms,” Frank noticed, head tilted to the side, radiating barely contained energy. “Huh. California king, too.”
Maybe it really is customary to expect this sort of thing when you’re discreet in the planning of an orgy and book the swankiest suite, Gerard mused. Mikey would know. He suspected Mikey ended up at more than his fair share of orgies. Not that Gerard could really point any fingers about whose share of group sex was what. Mikey’s probably involved Pete Wentz, though. Gerard spent some moments considering the merits of such adventures before Pedicone interrupted.
“There was a basket before?” Pedicone asked, sounding a little surprised and a little suspicious and a little like he couldn’t figure out just what the fuck he was doing here.
Poor guy. We really should have thought of him sooner, Gerard considered, thinking of Mike’s many fine qualities.
“Not all orgies can happen at Hotel Babylon,” Mikey said, looking just this side of nostalgic.
“I have dreams about that shower,” Frank said, reverently. “Dreams.”
“Jamia will kill you if you try to renovate,” Pedicone warned.
“Which is why I haven’t brought up my evil plans involving multiple showerheads and a steam room,” Frank nodded. He probably had blueprints. Lots of them. He was pretty good at planning. And pretending to be completely nonchalant about this shit.
Gerard adjusted his pants and crossed his arms over his chest and made himself frown, restraining from tapping his foot with impatience.
“Were you thinking some sort of granite monstrosity too?” Mikey asked.
“Maybe a little,” Frank shrugged. “Actually, slate tile would be nice. Dark slate. The kind of color that would look good with creamy skin pressed against it.”
“You are such a perv for Jamia,” Ray grinned and spared an expectant glance at Pedicone. Pedicone lifted an eyebrow. He was still learning the cues. Gerard was pretty sure that if they were onstage, playing a show, Pedicone wouldn’t have missed a beat there. Gerard was pretty sure Ray was asking for something. He had better be asking for something, anyway. Gerard’d been half-hard thinking about this since before the show yesterday. He was used to walking around with a semi-permanent stiffy onstage, but this was a bit much.
“Who said I was just thinking of Jamia?” Frank smirked.
“Equal opportunity slut, then.” Mikey shook his head, but Gerard knew that look. It was a little bemused and a little fond, with a good dash of filth, and it was all Frank’s. Which was adorable, but--
“Guys,” Gerard interrupted, because they could probably discuss Frank’s promiscuity for days.
“You have no idea,” Pedicone muttered, letting Gerard know he’d said that last bit out loud, and frowned at Ray, who pointedly looked at Mike’s bag.
“Oh, we do,” Ray agreed, lifting an eyebrow.
“Oh, dude, you should have just said,” Pedicone said, finally catching on, opening his bag and digging around. “All this eyebrow shit ain’t gonna cut it.”
“Guys,” Gerard could admit he was starting to sound a little whiny. It was like they were all doing it on purpose.
They all turned to look at him then, eyes wild and radiating barely-contained lust. It was like a wall. A wall of sex. Holy shit. That was kind of a lot of very intense focus to have on him all at once. Gerard swallowed and licked his lips. Maybe this was too much. An orgy was all well and good, but knowing in the pit of his stomach that he was going to get fucked by everyone in the room was a different thing altogether. Four hot guys were gonna wear him out piece by piece, orgasm by orgasm, just like he wanted. He rubbed at his own neck self-consciously.
“Goddamn,” he said softly.
“Did you think we were going to just talk all night?” Mikey chuckled low in Gerard’s ear, reaching for his shirt and unbuttoning. Gerard let the material slide off his shoulders and felt goosebumps following in its wake.
“I wasn’t sure,” Gerard allowed.
Frank giggled, standing in front of Gerard, undoing his belt. “You thought we were ignoring you?” he asked, tossing the belt away, bending to slide Gee’s boots off. “We could never ignore you.”
“We’re gonna take good care of you,” Mikey promised, eyes dark as he took off Gerard’s pants, sliding off his underwear with them. Gerard stepped out of both and shivered at the chill of the room.
Mikey and Frank stepped away to be replaced by Ray, looking at Gerard thoughtfully, and Pedicone, holding a pair of fur-lined cuffs and wow, that was a decent length of rope. You could do a lot with that.
“I guess you all did go shopping,” Gerard said out loud, a little squeak to his voice as he recalled the conversation Mikey had had with Ray. “Is that silk rope?”
“Yeah, didn’t think I was being too kinky with that purchase,” Pedicone muttered. “Hand-dyed.”
Gerard moved to touch the loops and coils, but Ray reached a hand out and tugged Gerard’s head to the side by the hair. Gerard sighed and stilled.
“Answers that question,” Ray said, a glimmer of a smile in the corner of his mouth.
“Huh,” Pedicone observed, licking his lips and tossing the cuffs back towards his bags.
“Arms in front,” Ray instructed, reaching for the rope with his other hand.
“Here,” Mikey interrupted, an intensity in his eyes. “I’ll get this side.”
Gerard shivered when Mikey stepped over and took the rope from Ray. He started at Gerard’s wrist, long fingers squeezing for a moment, then wrapping the rope around, and gently maneuvering rope and arms, wrapping and binding. Ray let go of his hair and got his other wrist, leaving Mikey to secure the whole thing together. Gerard chewed on his lip, forcing himself to keep still. Fuck he thought. They’re really doing this. We’re really doing this.
Mikey kissed his forehead when he finished and Gerard sighed. His arms bent at the elbow, one on top of the other like his arms were crossed, and tied together with rope matching his hair. He had a fleeting thought that someone did that on purpose. But any thoughts were forgotten when the first set of calloused hands touched his ass. They could have belonged to anyone, but he was sure they were Frank’s. Especially when lips ghosted across the base of his spine. Gerard jumped and Ray grabbed his hair again. Shit, that was nice. In fact, if Ray was just holding onto Gerard’s hair the entire night, that would be totally fine with Gerard.
Mikey thumbed a knot in the ropes and looked Gerard up and down. He must look good, because Mikey’s eyes flashed hot and dark and he leaned in for a kiss, biting Gerard’s lip before pulling away.
“Guys, we need to get him less vertical,” Frank whispered, already sounding positively strung-out on sex.
“How much less vertical?” Ray asked, loosing his fingers from Gerard’s hair and letting them tease along his jaw instead. Gerard shivered.
“Enough so I can eat him out,” Frank nuzzled at Gerard’s ass.
“Damn,” Pedicone breathed. “So you wanna get him on his knees. On the bed? I could hold his arms. Or not...?” Mike trailed off in a way that made him sound adorably unsure of his own forwardness.
“Mike,” Mikey said.
“Yeah?” Pedicone asked.
“We invited you to a fucking gangbang.” Frank clarified.
“C’mere,” Mikey said, waving a hand. He stepped behind Pedicone, put one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, and moved him forward so he was standing in front of Gerard. Ray and Mikey melted away, and Frank stopped whatever he was doing. Gerard looked down at his bound arms and lack of clothing, then back up at Mike. He was looking too, and when his eyes came back up, Gerard grinned sheepishly.
“Hi.” Gerard bit his lip, trying not to laugh.
Mike lifted his head, hooked a finger through Gerard’s ropes, pulling at them a little, and smiled back. “Hey.”
Gerard lifted his chin a fraction in what he thought was a clear indication of “Come on, make out with me, I’d grab your hair but you don’t have any and my hands are tied. Literally.” Mike seemed to get the hint, anyway, and leaned past Gerard’s bound arms to cup his chin and kiss him. His stubble scraped pleasantly, and despite making out with a tied-up guy he was about to help gangbang, he let Gerard take the lead. His lips pressed firmly but not too hard, softening further when Gerard’s tongue darted out to taste his mouth. Mike’s tongue flicked back in response, tentative until Gerard moaned encouragingly. Then aggressive, kissing back until Gerard was breathless and grinding against his leg, trying to hold onto the fabric of his shirt with the little bit of wiggle room Gerard’s fingers had.
“Fuck,” Pedicone breathed when they broke apart.
Frank looked from Gerard to Pedicone, and waggled his eyebrows. “Toldja.”
Mike made a huffing sound and pulled his shirt over his head, backing towards the bed. Gerard took a moment to appreciate all that skin, those strong shoulders, the ink. He should make Mike take off his shirt for every show. How Gerard could have forgotten how Pedicone looked, he wasn’t sure. He just wanted to lick his chest, distracted as Mike reached out to him.
Gerard crawled on to the bed and leaned, letting Pedicone hold him up, and that was a helluva nice feeling. Ray crawled on the bed too, scooting right next to him. Ray’d lost his shirt, too. And pants, Gerard noticed as he leaned over further. Frank was back behind him, encouraging him to part his legs more. Then lips pressed a gentle kiss at the top of his crack, followed by a tongue darting in and down, and did. Not. Stop. Gerard’s brain went on vacation, lulled away by waves of pleasure as Frank licked everywhere.
Gerard moaned and bucked against the arms holding him, pushing back against Frank’s face. Frank hummed, tongue teasing Gerard’s asshole and darting in, licking him open and driving him completely insane. It didn’t help that Ray was sucking a hickey on his neck and encouraging Pedicone to do the same on the other side.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Mikey’s voice came from somewhere behind Gerard.
“Gonna kill me. Shit. Shit. Shit,” Gerard babbled, not quite in response.
Just when he thought it was too much, that he wouldn’t last, that it wasn’t enough, Frank pulled away, leaving him feeling empty, cold as the air hit his skin.
Gerard whimpered and noticed Ray holding him up instead of Mike and Pedicone scooting off the bed and maybe the snap of a bottle cap.
“You sure?” Pedicone asked.
Gerard had missed something. An important something.
“You heard me,” Mikey answered. “Fuck him open. Slow. He’s ready for it, aren’t you Gerard. He’s leaking for it.”
Gerard whimpered. “Please, Mike. Please.”
“Shit,” Pedicone swallowed. “Shit, fine.” He rested a hand on Gerard’s hip, fingers curling, thumb rubbing gentle circles as he pushed slowly in.
“C’mon,” Gerard tried to push back, but Ray held him fast. It was too slow, not enough. Gerard whined in frustration.
Pedicone must have rolled his hips, because all at once Gerard felt split in two. Pedicone was thick. “Damn,” Pedicone sounded awed. “So hot and tight and Jesus.”
“Move,” Mikey urged.
“Fuckyeah,” Gerard agreed breathlessly.
Pedicone slowly slid almost all the way out, added more lube, and worked his way back in. Oh, god, further. Gerard hadn’t known that there was a further to go, but Mike just kept pushing into him until he was balls-flush and Gerard thought he was going to die. His heart was going to stop, it was so good, he was so full. Mike started a rhythm, a slow frustrating rhythm, building and shifting and trying his best to take Gerard apart one beat at a time.
“Not gonna last,” Pedicone panted. “Him first?”
Gerard almost couldn’t discern what or who he was asking. Gerard was fraying. His fucking drummer was fucking him into oblivion.
“Don’t last,” Mikey answered. “He can wait.”
Gerard moaned in response. He could just see Mikey lifting a knowing, smug eyebrow at Pedicone. Such an evil asshole, Gerard thought fondly. He’d probably been taking lessons from Ray.
Pedicone was frantically thrusting now, coming apart at the seams with each push forward. He shouted Gerard’s name when he came. Gerard’s cock felt impossibly hard, pulsing and twitching, incredibly close.
Pedicone pulled out and promptly collapsed bedside him on the bed.
“You know what?” Frank asked, appearing behind Gerard, sounding thoughtful.
“Yeah, you should totally spit-roast him with Ray,” Mikey answered, doing his mind-reading thing. Or maybe Frank had been making rude gestures again.
Gerard’s cock twitched and he moaned, because hot damn, was that a good idea.
“Goddamnit,” Pedicone muttered, moving to stand. “Gonna fuckin’ kill me.”
Frank didn’t need any more invitation than that, spreading Gerard with one hand and lining up with the other. He slid in just the head of his cock, then waited for the space of a breath before thrusting all the way home and waiting again as Ray got into place. Gerard darted his tongue out and licked, tasting salt and something distinctly musky and Ray underneath. He didn’t get a chance to savor it, because Ray snapped his hips and forced Gerard to suck him down. Gerard moaned around his cock, waiting for Ray to grab a fistful of hair again. He wasn’t disappointed. Pedicone’s fingers were digging into his shoulders holding him in place, Frank was fucking him hard and fast, Ray’s cock was down his throat, and Mikey’s eyes were on them all. It was too much. He wasn’t going to last.
Frank grunted praises into his back. Ray was speaking but Gerard couldn’t make out any of the words. He felt like he was out of his body. Floating. But somebody must have said something, because the next thing Gerard knew, his mouth was empty and his was getting a warm shot of Ray’s come on his cheek and sliding down his neck. Frank pulled out and shot all over his ass. Gerard made a keening noise.
He was still hard. Goddamn amazing assholes. His head was swimming, he was so close.
“Can you prop yourself on your arms for me, Gee?” Mikey asked.
Gerard nodded and Pedicone lowered him down onto the bed with his ass sticking in the air. The bed bounced a little as Pedicone and Ray slid off. They could go make out as far as he was concerned. They should go make out. He’d only be sad he didn’t get to see it. And Frank could help. Frankie was always helpful like that. But that wasn’t Gerard’s focus at the moment.
Gerard’s whole world was narrowed down to one person right now. He could feel Mikey’s gaze, his full attention on Gerard. Mikey would take care of him.
Mikey’s hands ghosted down Gerard’s back. One stopped to smear the come Frank had left.
“Look at you,” Mikey spoke. “All fucked open and jizzed on. Gonna be fucking easy for me, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Gerard answered, voice hoarse and fucked-out. “Please, Mikey. Please.”
Mikey shoved in with one smooth roll of his hips and did not let up, not for a second. “Like this?” Mikey asked, thrusting relentlessly. “Hard and fast and--” he shifted his angle hitting Gerard just right and Gee moaned appreciatively.
“Fuck, yeah,” Gerard panted. “Mikey.”
Mikey reached around and started to jack Gerard in time with his thrusts. Gerard wasn’t going to last. He didn’t know if he’d survive this. It felt like it’d been fucking years waiting to come, like he was shaking with need, weak from it.
“Close, Mikey,” Gerard warned. “Please.”
“C’mon,” Mikey urged, and kissed the back of Gerard’s neck and Gerard came undone, finally, shooting all over Mikey’s hand and his belly and the bed and the fucking walls for all Gerard knew.
“Gee,” Mikey gasped, a split-open cry and came, pinning Gerard into the newly-made wetspot and thrusting in hard with a gasp. He stayed there for a moment, clutching tightly and still in deep, before slumping heavily on Gerard’s back.
“Holy fuck,” Pedicone said, breathlessly. Which was Gerard’s first clue that Frank, Mike and Ray had not, in fact, gone anywhere. They’d been sprawled in a pile, watching. Gerard found enough energy to turn his head. Ray was at the pillow, Pedicone at the foot, with Frank draped over both of them. Mikey moaned softly and rolled off of and out of Gerard, who belatedly realized his arms were killing him.
“Lemme outta these?”
“Gotta turn over,” Mikey said. It took a few moments, but Gerard did. Mikey undid the knots, hanging the rope off the headboard when it was free, and kissed the red circles around Gerard’s wrists. Gerard stretched, groaning, and shook his hands limply before letting them fall to his sides. Something white came into his field of vision. Fluffy. A towel. Gerard gestured weakly and let his hands fall again. Fuckit. Whoever it was could do this shit for him, if they wanted him to clean up so badly. It was Ray who appeared over the bits of white fluff, dabbing gently and smiling for all the world like Gerard had just baked him a pie, or something similarly wholesome, instead of taking several cumshots to various parts of his anatomy. Gerard smiled back because, well, Ray made him feel like that. Some pillows got propped up under his head and he just lay there for a little while until a glass of water got put in his face. That looked pretty good, and Frank held on to it while Gerard sipped slowly. All this being-taken-care-of shit was kind of nice when he wasn’t too trashed to notice. Okay, whatever. They were talking now, and Gerard was pretty sure it was about him.
“...so good, right, especially when you get a, y’know, like that?” Frank was setting the empty glass down on the bedside table and probably making some gestures.
“Oh! Um. Yeah.” Pedicone’s voice, and Gerard felt tentative fingers smoothing his hair. Seriously, how was Mike so fucking sweet? Were drummers always like this? Or was MCR just kind of special? First Bob and now Mike. Adorable. Gerard leaned into the touch, making a soft pleased noise. “I just wish...” Mike trailed off.
Gerard opened his eyes, mostly waiting for the hand to start petting his hair again. Maybe a little curious, too.
“What?” Ray asked.
“Doggy style is fuckin’ awesome.” Pedicone said. Like he needed some sort of disclaimer. “I just kind of wanted to see. Um.” Mike cleared his throat and looked down at Gerard, like it was suddenly awkward talking about him in the third person. Gerard looked back up and tried to appear receptive. Mike actually blushed at the eye contact. Blushed. Adorable. Gerard waited. “Kinda wanted to see you come,” Mike said to him.
Gerard grinned. “I’m still right here, man.”
Mike looked away, like he was going to blush some more. Frank nudged him. “He means he can go again. Guy’s, like, the Energizer fucking Bunny or some shit. Ask Mikey.”
There was some shifting on the bed. Gerard wasn’t all that ready to move yet, but he heard Mikey offer, “You wanna see, we’ll pin him down, spread him out for you. Gee’s fucking pretty when he comes.”
“Holyshit.” The last bit was a little muffled from Mike rubbing his hand over his face, then interrupted with a soft noise of surprise. Gerard looked over. Mikey had his tongue down Pedicone’s throat. Nobody appeared to be complaining, least of all Pedicone. Frank looked like somebody had just given him a present, Ray was trailing his fingers down Mikey’s spine, and Pedicone... should have something in his mouth all the time. At least, that’s what Gerard’s dick seemed to think, having taken a decided interest in the proceedings.
“...hnng,” Pedicone managed, when Mikey broke off.
“Yeah,” Mikey replied, sounding like there was a conversation Gerard had missed, somehow. “Over here, Frankie. Ray, like that.”
Frank stood up and moved around, throwing himself on the other side of the bed. Then Frank was kissing Gerard, familiar and perfect and messy, his short fingers sliding down Gerard’s thigh and groping-- no, grabbing. Frank pulled away and grinned, first at Gerard and then across the bed to Ray, who smiled back and picked up where Frank had left off, kissing Gerard soundly.
Ray’s hands wrapped around Gerard’s knee. “That tickles....whoa!” Gerard managed to blurt out as both Frank and Ray pushed his knees towards his chest, holding his legs apart. “Oh!” Gerard said, looking up. There was Mike, looking pleasantly shocked. Gerard felt a wicked grin creep across his face. He licked his lips. “Is this more like it?”
“Yeah?” Pedicone still sounded a little unsure, but that might have had something to do with Mikey being behind him, and whatever Mikey’s hand was doing...oh. Pedicone’s hands were on top of Frank’s and Ray’s, but Mikey was lining up Pedicone’s cock, pressing against Gerard’s ass, and then giving a pointed nudge. “Oh, god, yeah.” That sounded a lot more sure. Gerard bit his lip, flashing a come-hither look that always seemed to work when Mike was drumming, and arched up. Pedicone’s cock twitched as Mikey’s fingers brushed over Gerard’s ass and drifted away.
“Mikey...Mike...shit, yeah,” Gerard encouraged, not really knowing where to even start. Mike took the hint and slid in all the way, lightly slick. Mikey must have lubed him up a little, which was good. Pedicone was so thick; it was easier than the first time, but still. It made Gerard glad for Frank and Ray, pulling his legs open. Mikey, doing whatever Mikey was doing. All Gerard had to do was lie there and let his brain leak out his ears.
“Fuck, yeah, god,” Gerard gasped as Mike settled into a slow beat, then, “Frank,” as Gerard felt fingers sneaking in on his right to settle easily around his cock, not jacking him off yet, just squeezing in time. Mike was making some seriously nice appreciative noises, with Ray joining in occasionally.
Wait, what? Gerard didn’t get it until Ray’s hands slipped away from Gerard’s thigh, quickly replaced by one of Mike’s. Gerard looked over to see Ray’s head falling onto the pillow next to his, Mikey throwing a leg over to ride him like a pony. And then the whole room was full of good noises. Pedicone started fucking Gerard in earnest, slamming in, and Frank’s fingers were moving, squeezing, jacking Gerard so fucking perfectly. Time spun out, heavy with sensation, sparkly at the edges of his eyes. Mikey was making that sound, that broken little sound that meant he was already close, so close, anything would tip him over the edge.
“Mike, shit, please. Don’t stop. But. Pull. Pull his hair. Fuck.” Gerard breathed, jerking his head Mikey’s direction. Pedicone let go of his leg and Gerard wrapped it high around his inked torso, grinning when there was a gasp, a plea, and a grunted curse coming from his brother, and then Ray.
And then Mike’s hand was back, pushing Gerard down, pinning him hard, and there was nothing left but Frankie and Mike, pushing him, stroking him, filling him until his toes curled and he was coming, coming hard and shouting something guttural with his eyes squeezed shut.
Gerard got his breath back, becoming dimly aware that he was trapped under a mountain. A muscled drummer-mountain that smelled nice. And was sticky. No, Gerard was sticky. No, everyone was sticky.
“Mmrrmn,” Gerard heard himself say. Rife with fucking eloquence, there. Whatever, Pedicone seemed to get the point and rolled a little. Now Gerard was less under a mountain and more in a haphazard pile of sticky naked dudes. “Mmmm,” he amended, content. Being in a pile of sticky naked dudes was the best thing ever.
“Shit,” Frank responded with similar contentment, summing everything up.
Gerard agreed wholeheartedly. He really fucking loved his band.
Master Post
Bonus Content:
Fanart:
[While I’m Still Young and Horny] by turlough ♥
Fanmix:
Closer by manuanya ♥