Authors: silentdescant and giddy_london
Pairing: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Word Count: ~10,000
Warnings: Bloody fistfights, choking, lack of lube: basically, fighting and angry fucking with a side of angst but a hopeful ending.
Disclaimer: The authors do not own Frank Iero or Gerard Way or any member of My Chemical Romance. We are not making money writing about them, and do so only for fun. This is fiction and should not be taken seriously in any way whatsoever. If you or someone you know appears in this story, please click the back button now.
Summary: Gerard usually considers himself above petty violence, but sometimes you just have to put people in their place.
A/N: Written in LJ comments over the span of a few days in December 2008. Unbeta-ed; we tried, but apparently no one was up to the task! Any and all remaining mistakes/typos are the fault of the authors. Feedback and/or constructive criticism both welcomed and appreciated. Title from "I Want the One I Can't Have" by the Smiths. Cross-posted to gerardxfrankie, my_chemical_fic, mychemicalslash, and the authors' personal journals.
So, months ago, silentdescant and giddy_london were talking about Frank being a punk ass little shit and Gerard trying to be a badass but just getting beat up instead, and the two of them fucking afterward. You know, as you do. And then it turned into fic!
giddy_london: I'm just thinking of Frank's bloodied knuckles and his hands in Gee's hair.
silentdescant: And the blood from Frank's hands getting in Gee's hair and making it all matted and stringier than normal, and the blood from Gee's nose and mouth getting all over Frank's face when Frank drags him in for a kiss.
giddy_london: And Frank licking blood from Gee's chin and biting his neck just under his jaw while he pulls at his hair, and Gee getting pissed about it even though he's totally hard for Frank.
silentdescant: The blood totally turns Gerard on, and he's like, shivering, and he yanks Frank's head back by his hair, just to get back at him.
giddy_london: Frank tries to stop the moan bubbling up from his chest, and it comes out as this weird grunt which only encourages Gerard more, until he's pulling Frank's hair so hard that if Frank were a total pussy there would be tears in his eyes. As it is, Frank just tries to elbow Gerard in the ribs, because since when is he so fucking aggressive? Frank beat him up because of his ridiculous passive-aggressive shit in the first place, right, and how was he supposed to know that Gee would fight back? He considers kicking Gerard in the balls, but he just shoves him against the wall and fucking grinds against him, biting the pale skin of his collarbone, exposed by Frank's grip on his t-shirt.
Gerard growls at Frank's renewed efforts to fight back, but he doesn't loosen his grip on Frank's hair. When he feels Frank's teeth on his neck, he jerks Frank's head back again, far enough that his whole spine arches, and Gerard spins them around so Frank's the one against the wall. Gerard usually considers himself above petty violence, but sometimes you just have to put people in their place.
Frank bites his tongue as his head hits the wall, and the taste of more blood is warm in his mouth. He thinks briefly about spitting it in Gerard's fucking face, just to see what he'll do, and the thought causes him to choke on a laugh. Frank just fists one hand in Gerard's shirt and grasps the hot skin of one hip with the other.
"Fuck you," he gasps raggedly. "Fucking do something, motherfucker."
Gerard lets go of Frank's hair and pushes his shoulders back against the wall. Frank's fucking smirking at him. Gerard leans in and bites Frank's bottom lip, right beside his lip ring. The metal is cool against his tongue, and it tastes coppery, but that might just be the taste of their mingled blood.
"You don't know when to fucking back off, do you?" Gerard pushes up against Frank, pinning him to the wall with his body. "You don't get to tell me what to do, you little shit."
Frank does laugh as Gerard shoves him, and the sound is swallowed by Gerard's mouth on his. He can feel the furious beat of Gee's heart against his chest, the heat of Gerard's cock through two layers of denim. Frank slides his hands under Gerard's shirt, over the sweaty skin of his back, nails digging in.
"Fucking do it, asshole," Frank encourages with a dirty roll of his hips against Gerard's.
Gerard wrenches away from Frank's fingernails and mouth and hips, what the fuck. He reaches around for Frank's wrists and plucks at the long sleeves of his shirt.
"This needs to come off, then," he hisses. While Frank's occupied, Gerard scrubs his hands over his face, wiping off most of the blood. His lip is still bleeding a little bit, and his nose is sore from its run-in with Frank's knuckles, but otherwise he's in pretty good shape. Now he's just really fucking angry.
Frank only takes his eyes off Gerard long enough to pull his shirt over his head. It is wet with blood--Gerard's, maybe his own, and Frank swipes it over his mouth and nose before dropping it to the floor at their feet. He watches Gerard, the tightness of his face, the barely restrained anger stretching the lines of his body taut, and his fingers stray to the button of his jeans.
"Take your fucking shirt off," Frank says, voice low, still panting with adrenaline. "Fucking show me, Gerard."
Instead of replying, or making any move to take his own shirt off (which he has no intention of doing just because Frank commanded it, not unless Frank earns some serious brownie points), Gerard reaches for Frank's shoulder again. He starts at Frank's throat, touching the inked scorpion, and slowly drags his hand down Frank's chest, pressing hard enough that his fingernails leave faint red lines in their trails. He flattens his palm against the center of Frank's chest, holding him against the wall again. He's not fighting now, but every muscle is tense beneath Gerard's touch. With his free hand, Gerard makes quick work of Frank's belt buckle and the button on his fraying jeans.
"S'this what you fucking want, Frankie?"
Frank stutters out an unsteady breath at the feel of Gerard's hand on his chest. He doesn't look away from Gerard's face, but he can feel tiny pinpricks of blood welling up in the wake of his nails. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, ready to hit Gerard again, to make him bleed again, hot and red. Frank doesn't move, doesn't watch as Gerard pulls his zipper down and rests his fingers just under the swallow tattooed on his right hip. He smiles.
"Fuck you, Gerard," he says again.
"What do you want, then, Frankie? You only have to ask." Gerard traces the lines of the tattoo, smirking. "Doesn't mean I'll give you want you want, but it never hurts to ask, right?"
Gerard can feel the tension vibrating just under the surface of Frank's skin, barely restrained. He wonders how soon Frank will break. He leans in and kisses Frank again, softly this time, but their teeth clash and he tastes blood. He doesn't know whose it is, his or Frank's, and he doesn’t care. He digs his nails into Frank's hip until Frank bites him, and Gerard bites back harder.
Frank curls his hands around Gerard's waist, fingers biting into the skin, turning his face away from Gerard. He can feel fresh blood trickling down his chin.
Frank shoves Gerard, satisfied when he stumbles a little on the worn hotel room carpet. He pushes himself off the wall, moving closer to shove Gerard again.
"I'm not asking you for a fucking thing," he snarls, pushing Gerard onto the bed and kneeling over him, watching as the blood from his chin drips onto Gerard's shirt.
Gerard growls and hisses, but Frank's knees are pressed tight against his hips, trapping him. Gerard clutches at Frank's bare shoulders and tries to flip them, but Frank is like a fucking rock, an immovable object, and he's not giving an inch.
"Then you're not getting a fucking thing," Gerard spits back.
He claws at Frank's back and shoves his hips up. Frank's jeans have slipped dangerously low, and for a second, Gerard wishes he'd just taken them off earlier. Teasing is only fun when he's the one doing it. Gerard moves his hand up to Frank's hair and jerks him down for another fierce kiss. Frank's nose smashes against his own and a throbbing pain shoots through his face.
"Shit, fuck," Gerard groans, but Frank doesn't move away and his words are lost between them. He twists his fingers in Frank's hair, but Frank doesn't make a sound either.
Frank is so hard and his jeans sliding down over his ass just remind him that Gerard is still fully-clothed and a total fucking asshole. He shifts his knees slightly, enough to pull Gerard's shirt up over his pale belly, and then he's clinging once again, determined not to let Gee throw him off or roll him over. Frank tugs the thin shirt up Gerard's torso, somehow gets it over his head and off his arms. They're both breathing heavily, faces red with exertion and blood, and Frank fucking wants. He wants Gerard more than he's ever wanted anyone, and he doesn't hesitate to tell him.
"Fuck you," he pants. "I'll fucking take what I want."
Gerard puts his leg over Frank's and tries again to flip them over, but Frank just catches him by the shoulders and presses down, holding him still. He reaches instead for Frank's jeans, then, and yanks them down his thighs. Frank's hands come off his shoulders and start pulling at Gerard's belt buckle. Frank's fingers are more agile than Gerard's, but even he's having trouble with the stupid thing. At the moment, Gerard doesn't even care that he's not in control, he wants the same thing Frank does, so he tangles his hands with Frank's and tries to help him get the belt undone. Gerard's hips lift up helpfully and he groans again when Frank pushes his jeans down a few inches.
"Fuck, Frank, fuck you," Gerard gasps. He wraps his hands around Frank's biceps and digs his nails in.
Fuck, finally. Frank leans down to kiss Gerard again, one hand splayed on the mattress next to Gerard's head, the other one between them, shoving at rough denim and soft cotton, and oh god, there, pulling them both free from jeans and boxers, hot, hard skin pressed together. Jesus Christ, he's got Gerard's cock in his hand, and it's so fucking good that Frank can't resist thumbing the head and then bringing his hand to his mouth to taste. He watches Gerard beneath him and can't help the moan that slips out.
"Fuck," he murmurs, squeezing roughly at Gerard's cock. "Tell me you fucking want this, Gee."
Gerard's breath catches in his throat. His fingers flex open-shut-open-shut on Frank's arms, and he already feels sweat-slick beneath Gerard's nails. He remembers to breathe through his nose when Frank kisses him, but then Frank's hand is on his dick and oh shit he can't think enough to even keep that up. Gerard arches up, pushing his head back into the mattress, and gasps for breath when their lips part. And then Frank fucking licks his fucking hand, and Jesus fuck, it must be the hottest thing Gerard's ever seen in his entire fucking life. But then Frank's hand is back around Gerard's cock and though Gerard really tries hard not to, he whimpers.
"Yeah, fuck, Frankie," he pants, "I fucking want it. Fucking do it, Frank, or I swear to god..."
"Okay, yeah, fuck," says Frank, closing his eyes and grinding against Gerard. "Fuck, Gee, I want this. I--tell me what you fucking want and I'll fucking do it."
His hand keeps moving on Gerard's cock, slick with sweat and precome, and Frank wants another taste, wants Gerard in his mouth, fuck, but he's not going to ask for it, he's just going to do it. He kisses Gerard once more, soft, not even a hint of teeth or his earlier anger, before shifting down and kicking his jeans and boxers off and removing Gerard's as well. Frank nudges Gee's legs apart, settles between his thighs, and takes his cock into his mouth.
"Oh, holy fuck," Gerard gasps when Frank grinds down on him.
He tries to put together an answer, something to tell Frank to do, but his brain and his mouth don't seem to be connected. Frank kisses him softly and Gerard whimpers again, for different reasons, but he doesn't even feel embarrassed about it this time. Then Frank slides away, undressing them both in the process, and Gerard nearly chokes.
"Just fucking--yeah, fuck, that, do that, fuck, Frankie..."
Oh, holy hell. Frank's mouth is hot and so wet, and Gerard can feel his fucking lip ring, and who would've thought that would be sexy? It really fucking is, though. Gerard's hands fly to Frank's hair and clutch and twist, not even really guiding or demanding, just keeping his fingers occupied.
"Shit, Frankie, oh fuck. I'm gonna come. Oh fucking fuck! Jesus." Gerard arches his back again and closes his eyes. This has got to be like, record time or something. He thrusts his hips up and Frank just follows the movement. "Jesus," Gerard says again. "So fucking pretty, Frankie, I swear." Even prettier with the blood smeared on his cheeks, but Gerard won't mention that.
Frank moans around Gerard's cock at the sound of his babbling, desperate and near incoherent, and that's fucking new. Jesus Christ, Frank could do this all day if it meant Gerard would keep talking to him like that, would keep touching and petting his hair and thrusting into his mouth, the taste of blood and precome making his dick harder against the mattress.
"Fuck," Frank gasps, pulling away from Gerard, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to his thighs and belly as he continues to stroke his cock. "Fucking gorgeous like this, Gee, shit. So fucking hot."
Frank bites at Gerard's hipbone, sucking a bruise into the flesh, marking him, licks up the length of Gerard's cock.
"I want you to come, Gee. Fucking come in my mouth, do it." Frank lowers his head, taking Gerard down his throat, and Christ, he loves it.
Gerard chokes mid-ramble when Frank goes down on him again. His fingers tighten in Frank's hair and press him down, and he goes willingly. Gerard can feel words caught in this throat and he gasps, trying to force them out. Frank's eyes close. Gerard stares at the shadowy line of his eyelashes against his cheek, and fuck, his nose pressed against Gerard's pelvis, Jesus.
"Fuck, Frank, fuck me, god, you are fucking good at this," Gerard babbles. "Shit, shit, Frankie..." He thrusts up into the wet heat of Frank's mouth, the muscles in his thighs tensing. "Fuck, fucking--m'close now, Frankie, c'mon, make me come, want to come in your fucking mouth, fucking take it, Frank, fuck you..."
Gerard slides his right hand around to Frank's face and smears the blood from his lips to his cheek. He tilts Frank's head back and Frank opens his eyes, staring up at him. Gerard scratches Frank's cheek with his thumbnail and arches hard up off the bed. He only has breath enough for a strangled, wordless shout when he comes, and he clenches both hands in Frank's hair again to keep him still.
Frank is too distracted by Gerard fucking his mouth and the look on his face, Jesus, to try and rub himself off on the sheets. He just relaxes his throat as Gerard comes, and even though it's been a while since he's done this and he's never done it to Gee, it comes back to him fairly easily, the interplay of hands and mouth and tongue, the sharp edges of his teeth if Gerard pulls too hard on his hair. Frank can feel the wet spot on the bed beneath him, wants to crawl up Gerard's body and straddle his chest and fucking shove his cock into Gee's mouth, fucking make him take it, cradling the back of Gerard's neck with one hand, the other fisted tight around his dick. He finishes sucking Gerard off, licking come from his softening cock, from his own lips, trails tiny bites along the insides of Gee's thighs as he catches his breath.
"Fuck," he breathes against Gerard's pale belly. "Fuck, Gee. Just--"
"Frankie, Frankie..." Gerard mumbles, pawing Frank's hair and face. He feels overheated and tingly all over, especially around the little pinpricks where Frank bites him.
He scratches at Frank's shoulders, whispering breathlessly, "Come up, c'mon, come up here." Frank follows his lead and crawls up the bed, straddling Gerard's waist. "What d'you want, Frankie?" Gerard asks. He doesn't give Frank a chance to answer, though, yanking him down for another bruising kiss. Frank's lips are warm and wet and pliant, and Gerard pushes up against him.
Gerard's slowly regaining his senses. He digs his nails into Frank's shoulder blades and smirks when Frank flinches. "Frankie," he hisses. "Ask me for what you want. Ask nicely and you might get it."
Frank's knees tighten instinctively at Gerard's hips at the word 'nicely' because like fuck he's going to ask nicely. He's not going to ask at all. He's just given Gerard an amazing fucking blow job, has Gerard's blood on his hands, on his tongue, and he's too fucking hard to think at this point.
"Nicely?" he says, stroking a thumb across one of Gerard's nipples. "You know I never do anything nicely."
He thrusts against Gerard, twitching a little at the slide of his cock on the sweat of Gerard's torso. Frank raises himself up to his knees, just enough room to roll a still-sated Gerard onto his belly beneath him. He runs his tongue along Gerard's spine, humming in pleasure at the salt taste of his skin as an idea occurs to him.
"And I'm not about to ask," Frank tells him, sinking sharp teeth into the back of one of his thighs, taking the upper hand with his actions as well as his next words. "You're going to take whatever I want to give you, just like your pretty brother did."
Frank nudges Gerard's legs further apart, gripping his waist and pulling his knees up under him before slowly spreading his ass with both hands and licking teasingly over his hole.
Frank starts moving before the words are even fully out of Gerard's mouth, every action a tight, tense movement. He flips Gerard over before Gerard can think to object, and Gerard sighs and shivers when he feels Frank's tongue on his back. But then Frank tells him about Mikey, and seriously, what the fuck? Gerard tenses and clenches his fists in the bedsheet.
"What?! You fucking--"
Frank continues to manhandle him into his desired position, and after that blow job (which, Gerard has to admit, was pretty fucking phenomenal), Gerard is in no state to fight back. He feels Frank's tongue again and loses his breath for a moment.
"You shitty little fuck," Gerard spits out through clenched teeth. He closes his eyes. Frank doesn't stop, not even to give him a smart-ass reply. "I will fuck you up."
And yeah, okay, that might sound a little stupid, because Gerard's got Frank's tongue in his ass and he's shifting around, his body begging for more against his better judgment, but Gerard means it. Sort of. He'll mean it later. Frank's breath is hot against his skin, and his fingers are digging in hard at Gerard's waist to keep him still. Gerard tries to push back, but Frank scratches his side with a sharp fingernail. Gerard feels over-sensitized, and he can't quite let go of the flare of anger about Mikey, but all he can say is, "Fuck, Frankie..." muttered under his breath.
Frank is smug at Gerard's acquiescence. He isn't worried about his threats--so far all he's got to show for Gerard's attempts at fighting him are a bloody nose, bitten lips, and, okay, maybe a sore jaw from a weak punch, but that could be from sucking him off, so Frank doesn't count it. He moves his hands from Gerard's waist back to his ass, spreading him again as he continues to lick him open. Frank's cock is hard and leaking without having been touched, but he's not going to do it now he's got Gerard on his knees, right where he wants him. Frank slides his index finger into Gerard and nips at the back of his thigh again.
"So fucking good," he says against the soft skin of Gerard's ass. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, Gee."
Frank gets to his knees, pressing his dick into the sensitive spot behind Gerard's balls, his chest slipping on Gerard's back. He steadies himself with one hand on Gerard's hip, brings the first two fingers of his other hand to Gerard's lips, sliding them into his mouth.
"Suck," he orders. "Get them nice and fucking wet, Gee, and if you fucking bite me, I will fuck you without using my fingers first."
Gerard gasps when Frank presses his cock against his ass. He bites back a moan; Frank is teasing him, and like hell Gerard's playing into that. Frank then forces his fingers between Gerard's lips, wrenching open his jaw. Gerard doesn't even think to bite him; he sucks the digits into his mouth, closing his lips tightly around them, imagining he's got Frank's dick in his mouth instead of just his fingers. Gerard swirls his tongue around Frank's fingertips, playing it up, and he even makes a low sound in the back of his throat.
Behind him, Frank stops pushing, and he lets his hand hang limp from Gerard's mouth. Gerard spits him out, giving Frank's index finger a quick, light nip, and says, "Fucking do it, Frankie. Come on." He arches his back and presses back against Frank again. "You wanna fuck me? Then fucking do it."
Frank makes an impatient noise and starts moving, and against his will, Gerard wonders if Mikey had been like this with Frank, or if it had been, for lack of a better word, nicer. He closes his eyes and shakes the thoughts from his head, trying to convince himself that he doesn't care.
Self-control has never been one of Frank's strong points, and as soon as Gerard tells him to do it, he's moving away from the heat of Gerard's back, grasping Gee's hair with one hand and forcing the fingers of his other hand into Gee's ass. He's hot and tight, and Frank thinks briefly about whether Gerard's ever done this as his fingers flex and bend and stretch. Despite their fistfight and their taunting words, Frank doesn't want to hurt him, not like this; he knows that if this goes wrong there will be no fixing it.
Frank gives Gerard a few minutes to get used to his fingers, sliding them over his prostate as he opens him up until Gerard is moaning beneath him. Frank moves his hand away, grips the base of his cock, nudges the head against Gerard's ass.
"You better be fucking ready for me," he says with only a slight growl to his words as he pushes his cock into Gerard, and Jesus Christ he's tight. Frank doesn't even try to stop the groan forcing its way out as he keeps moving, pressing into Gee until his hips are flush against his ass. "Fuck. Fuck, Gerard."
Frank pushes his fingers in quickly, both at once, and fuck, Gerard wasn't quite prepared for that. He gasps and wraps his hands in the sheets again, clinging tightly. He takes a few careful breaths through his open mouth; it's been a while since he's bottomed--a long while, he thinks bitterly--but Frank obviously knows what he's doing, because he's slowed down, working him open more gently now. As Frank rubs over his prostate, Gerard can't contain himself and the moans that caught in his throat make themselves heard. That seems to spur Frank on, because his fingers disappear and then he's pressing his cock into Gerard instead, steadily and not very slowly until he's in as deep as he can go. Gerard pants and grinds his cheek against the mattress. God, he needs to get laid more often. He lets out another broken moan and Frank starts to move.
His thrusts start out slow, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing in deep, and Gerard clamps his mouth shut against the words he can feel bubbling up in his throat. Mikey's teased him since they were teenagers about being loud in bed, but it's not like he can fucking help it. He's never heard Mikey through their shared wall at home before, though, and okay, maybe it's for that reason that he opens his mouth and lets loose, and maybe that makes him an asshole, but he doesn't really care at this point.
"Fuck, fuck, Frank, c'mon, Frankie... Yeah, fucking do me, Frank, talk to me. Tell me what--Fuck... Fuck... God, yeah," he pants, canting his hips and pushing back against Frank's thighs. "C'mon, Frank, show me what you fucking got."
The noise Frank makes when Gerard shoves back against him and starts fucking talking, fuck, is a weird half-squeak, half-moan that would embarrass him if Gerard were anyone else, but they've known each other too long for something like that to bother him, and it's not like he didn't already know that Gee is a noisy fuck. Frank just wraps a shaky hand around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming, slowing his thrusts. He tightens his other hand in Gerard's hair, pulls him up from the bed and onto his knees, Gerard's back against his own chest.
"What I've got," he hisses into Gerard's ear, "is my dick in your ass." He punctuates his words with a bite to Gerard's neck and a shallow thrust of his cock. "So fucking tight, Gee." He slides a hand to Gerard's belly, splaying his fingers over warm skin. "So fucking pretty, just taking it, fuck."
Frank pulls Gerard onto his cock, presses his lips to Gerard's sharp shoulder blades, and fuck, he's so close, but it's too soon, he's wanted this too much.
"Fuck yourself on my cock," he murmurs. "Do it. Show me how much you want this, Gee. Tell me how fucking good it feels." Frank wraps his hand around Gerard's cock, already half-hard again. "So fucking tight, Gee, fucking tell me."
Frank yanks him up by his hair, and then they're pressed up against each other, Frank's chest hot against his back. Gerard can feel the slick sweat between them when their skin slides together as they move. Frank's low voice in his ear makes him grin, and Gerard chuffs out a laugh that falls flat the second it passes his lips, because fuck, Frank's teeth on his neck. Gerard's always had a vampire kink, and of course Frank knows that, and of course he'd exploit it. Gerard moans and tilts his head back and to the side, pressing his weight back against Frank's body.
Frank moves his hands around to Gerard's stomach, and then his dick, and Jesus, it's so good it almost hurts. He keeps murmuring in Gerard's ear, and every word he says ratchets up Gerard's desire. Smirking, Gerard lifts his hand and reaches behind him to run his fingers through Frank's hair. He strokes Frank's head haphazardly and then settles for twisting his fingers into the sweaty strands. He can feel a flush rising on his face and on his chest, and he's not sure if it's from Frank's words or their combined body heat.
Gerard pushes himself back onto Frank's cock with a low grunt and says, "So fucking hot, Jesus..." Frank's mouth drops to Gerard's shoulder and he snaps his hips forward; Gerard moans at the delicious slide of Frank's dick into his body. "Fuck, Frankie, feels so fucking good." He angles his hips and tugs Frank's hair a bit, then continues, "Yeah, Frankie, yes, c'mon. Perfect, like that."
Gerard's free hand joins Frank's around his cock. He grasps Frank's wrist instead, though, because no way in hell is he gonna interrupt that. "Fucking perfect," he says again, his voice a tight, thin whine now. "Feels so fucking good, Frank, shit. Wanna come, Frankie. Fuck me, want you to fucking come in me, Frank. Come on, you fuck..."
The unsteadiness of Gerard's voice, the fucking filthy litany falling from his mouth, are almost enough to make Frank come then and there, but he stops and pulls completely out of Gerard, panting against the back of his neck. He almost laughs at the choked sound in Gerard's throat, but thinks better of it--he wants to come, not get another fist in the face.
"You want to come?" Frank asks, lips touching Gerard's ear. He bites at his earlobe and stretches out on the mattress flat on his back, hand on his dick. "Sit on my cock. Come on, Gee, want to fucking come inside you. Want to see your face when you fucking come again."
Frank strokes his other hand over Gerard's cock, tugging roughly enough to get him to move, and says, "C'mon, Gee, fucking ride me like Mikey used to," just to get a reaction.
Frank pulls out, leaving Gerard gasping and fucking wanting. Gerard flushes again when Frank nips his ear, and then Frank's gone completely. Gerard twists around to look, not moving his legs just yet. Frank's fist is tight around his dick, and even though every line of his body is tense, his expression is radiating confidence. Gerard turns around fully and Frank reaches for him, closing his hand over Gerard's cock as he mentions Mikey again. Gerard frowns. As if Mikey wasn't already haunting his thoughts.
"You little shit," Gerard hisses, bending down and straddling Frank's waist. He holds himself up with a hand on Frank's shoulder, digging in his nails maybe a little harder than strictly necessary. "You want me to fucking ride you?" He reaches around and lowers himself slowly onto Frank's cock, exhaling slowly at the stretch of the new position.
Gerard then moves his hand to Frank's throat and squeezes. Not enough yet to cut off Frank's air, but surely enough to freak him out. Gerard lowers himself about halfway on Frank's dick and stops moving. It's hard, now, because he fucking wants to fuck himself on Frank's cock, but he's already had one orgasm tonight, he can fucking wait.
"Did you fuck my brother like you fucked me, Frankie?" Gerard asks, his voice tight with suppressed anger. "Did he beat you up first like I did?"
Frank's eyes go wide as Gerard's hand closes around his throat, but he can still breathe, still manages to exhale a moan as Gerard slides down onto him and fucking stops, the asshole. And yeah, maybe he deserves it, but Gerard is so easy to fuck with, Frank can't help it, and the fingers pressed against his neck make his dick even harder.
"Do you want me to fuck you liked I fucked your brother?" he rasps, looking up at Gerard. "Is that what you want? Do you want me to tell you all the things I did to Mikey while I fuck you, Gee? Would that fucking get you off? Hearing all about your brother's pretty little mouth and his tight ass? Is that what you fucking want?"
Frank pulls his knees up, digging his heels into the bed, thrusts up into Gerard. He groans and does it again, feels Gerard's hand tighten on his neck, feels Gerard's thigh muscles shaking through the pale skin of his legs as Frank palms them.
"Fuck," Frank grits out, hips stuttering up off the bed. "Close, fuck. Need to come, Gee, shit..."
Frank doesn't break eye contact as he murmurs his taunting reply, and Gerard glares down at him. He wants to tighten his fingers around Frank's throat, cut off his words, but he's frozen in place. He can't help but imagine Frank and Mikey together, fuck, and his stupidly over-active imagination fills in with full-color pictures of Frank's stupid piercings and Mikey's stupid glasses and their stupid hands with their stupid guitar calluses and their stupid tattoos and just--goddammit!
While Gerard's brain is short-circuiting, Frank shifts around for leverage and thrusts up, and that fucking wakes him up. He tightens his hand and Frank thrusts again, not caring, moving his hands to Gerard's thighs.
"Fuck you," Gerard hisses, enunciating clearly, "fuck you, Frank Iero. You fucking--Christ!--fucking shit... I don't fucking care what you need, Frankie, what the fuck did you do to my brother?"
Gerard lets go of Frank's neck and instead digs his fingernails into his scalp, lowering himself to force his tongue between Frank's lips. "You fuck," he says into the kiss. It doesn't matter if Frank understands him; he'll get the gist.
As soon as Gerard kisses him, it's all over. Frank grips Gerard's waist so tightly that there will be bruises for days, thrusts up into him once, twice more, and he's coming harder than he ever has in his life, gasping into Gerard's mouth.
"Fuck," Frank pants. "Jesus, fuck, Gee, god. I didn't... Fuck."
He's shaking now, his dick still twitching, hands curled loosely around Gerard's ass, breathing harsh and loud into the space between them. Frank shudders at the smell of sweat and blood and sex and anger, arches up and takes Gerard's bottom lip gently between his teeth, kisses him.
"I didn't," he murmurs, and it’s the truth. "With Mikey. I never did, Gee, I swear. I never did anything to him, I promise. I--Fuck, it's you, you fucking asshole. It was always fucking you."
Gerard kisses Frank through his orgasm, keeping him short of breath as they both ride it out. Frank is the one who finally pulls away, panting and weak-limbed beneath Gerard. He seems to lose track of whatever he's trying to say, though, meaning lost in expletives, and he leans up for another, softer kiss before explaining. Gerard climbs off Frank and yanks him up into a seated position by his hair, biting at Frank's lips and pressing his knees into Frank's hips.
"You fuck," he growls in between kisses, "you piece of shit. You did this on purpose."
Frank's hands are fluttering around Gerard's shoulders, but he doesn't actually grab him. Gerard lets go of Frank's hair and pushes him backwards, hard enough that he bounces a little when he hits the bed. Gerard reaches for his own cock and rubs his thumb over the tip, considering.
"I'm gonna fuck you, Frankie," he decides after a moment. He glares down at Frank's face, his features soft and sated after his orgasm. As brilliant as that blow job had been, that's not what Gerard wants from Frank now.
Frank shivers at Gerard's words and the look on his face as much as the sight of him stroking himself, and yes, fucking finally. He says as much to Gerard.
"Yeah, fuck, do it," Frank tells him. "Fuck me; I want you to, Gee."
And he knows it's not going to be pleasant. Gerard's got that look in his eye, and Frank knows it's going to be hard and harsh, that it's going to fucking hurt, but he wants it. Fuck, does he want it, wants whatever Gerard will give him, just like he's always wanted. Frank can't fucking ask for what he wants, but Frank can push Gerard until he'll give him what he needs, and it's enough.
"Just tell me what you want me to do," Frank says.
"So fuckin' eager," Gerard mutters, intentionally making his voice sharper, just to see how Frank will respond. He's fucking angry, yes--Frank fucking manipulated him--but that anger is fading now in light of the willingness and fucking desperation in Frank's eyes.
"You're such a slut, Frank," says Gerard, "always fuckin' have been." He tightens his hand around his cock and blinks, very slowly. He licks his lips. Frank stares up at him, completely still. "Maybe I should just jerk off on your fucking face, Frankie."
He has no intention of actually doing it: now that the idea of fucking Frank--and fucking him hard, oh fuck yeah--is in Gerard's head, he can't let it go. But he twists his hand on his dick and shifts his hips forward a little bit, just a tiny movement, and watches Frank's face for a reaction.
"You fucking want me?" he asks roughly. "Convince me, then. I don't fucking believe you yet."
It’s on the tip of his tongue, please, he thinks, but he can't say it, can't bring himself to ask, to beg, can only offer himself up.
"Yes," Frank says instead. "I want you, fuck, Gee, anything. Whatever you want. Come on my face, fuck me, do it, Jesus. I'll make it so fucking good for you, just tell me what you want me to do."
Frank looks up at Gerard, cups a hand around his waist, strokes his thumb over Gerard's hip softly, leans in to tongue the head of his cock, rubs his cheek along his shaft.
"Anything," he repeats.
Gerard tries hard to hold onto his anger while Frank touches him with a gentleness he doesn't even give his prized guitars. Gerard can't help but believe the sweet look in his eyes when Frank looks up is genuine.
"Fuck," Gerard says simply.
He reaches down and runs his fingers slowly through Frank's hair, ending in a sharp tug at the crown of his head. Frank is pliant now and he moves with Gerard's hand, tilting his head until his back arches to compensate. Gerard bends down and ducks his head to lick Frank's throat. There are faint red marks there from Gerard's fingers and he traces them with his tongue, then closes his mouth over the spot where he can feel Frank's pulse thudding. Gerard kisses him there for a moment, all lips and tongue, and curls both hands around to the back of Frank's head again, gently massaging and tangling his hair.
Frank's heartbeat quickens beneath his tongue and Gerard keeps mouthing him until he feels the vibrations of a low moan deep in Frank's throat. He knows without looking that Frank's eyes are closed and his mouth is open; it's the same expression he has sometimes when they're on stage and Frank really gets into the music. Gerard always wants to kiss the breath from Frank's lips when he does that. He won't give up his original idea, though, and his imagination has been expanding upon it during this relatively quiet interlude.
Gerard sinks his teeth into Frank's neck--he'll fucking show Frank vampire kink--and growls, tightening both hands into fists in Frank's hair and pulling him back again. Gerard then reaches for Frank's wrists and they fall together onto the bed, Frank pinned beneath Gerard's body and hands.
"I didn't hear you say please," Gerard spits out, leaning up to cover Frank's mouth with his own, catching the gasp Frank can't keep back.
Satisfied now, body still humming in the comedown, Frank leans into every one of Gerard's touches--the soothing motion of fingers through his hair, the ceaseless motion of tongue and lips and teeth on his throat, thin, strong hands around his wrists--and arches beneath him, letting Gerard do as he pleases.
It's a subtle shift, but Frank can feel it, gives in to it, and lets Gerard take control. He's gotten what he wanted, smiles into Gerard's mouth when he remembers the feel of his fist on Gerard's mouth, the brief scuffle on the hotel room floor before he'd pulled Gee to his feet and shoved him against the wall the first time. He thinks they'd both been hard before the first punch was thrown. Now, though, Frank isn't in control, doesn't want to be--he wants to see how far Gerard is willing to go, whether he will take his time about things or just turn Frank over and fuck him, wants to know if this means anything more than days and weeks and years of metaphorical fucking hair-pulling.
Frank hears the renewed anger in Gerard's voice and wants nothing more than to be able to give in, to ask for what he wants, to say please like Gerard is demanding, but he doesn't know if he can, what it will mean if he does. He isn't sure he really knows what he would be asking, if Gee will know what he is asking. For the first time in longer than Frank can remember, he is uncertain.
"Gerard," he says. "Gee, I want--"
Gerard interrupts him with another kiss and waits for Frank to open up under his mouth before pulling away. "I don't care what you want," Gerard says, pressing his weight down on Frank's wrists. "This is what I want."
He ducks his head so he can nip at Frank's chin and rocks his hips down to push his cock against Frank's stomach. It's good--so good--but not enough. Gerard ignores his need for friction, though, and scoots down to bite Frank's clavicle. His teeth leave a mark that he soothes briefly with his tongue before shifting over and biting again, in a slightly different spot.
"I want to fuck you," he says into Frank's skin. "But first, I want to hear how much you want my dick in your ass. Payback's a bitch, Frankie."
Gerard changes his grip to accommodate both of Frank's wrists in one hand, knowing full well he couldn't hold Frank if Frank wanted to wrench his hands free, and reaches down with the other to tease the bit of skin right behind Frank's balls.
"Tell me how much you fucking want this, you little shit."
Gerard's words--I don't care what you want--hit Frank harder than Gerard's fist had earlier. He can hardly think as Gerard grinds against him, bites at his skin, touches him in places that make him want to moan. Payback, Frank thinks, and knows that this doesn't mean the same thing to Gerard.
"I want it," he says quietly, giving in. "I want what you want, Gee. Want you to fuck me, want your cock in me, want to make you come. Anything you want, Gerard." Frank flexes his wrists in Gerard's grip. "Please."
Frank's 'please,' when Gerard finally hears it pass his lips, feels hard-earned, and he leans back up to kiss Frank again. Into Frank's mouth he says, "Thank you," whispers it, closes his lips over Frank's so the words can't escape and be heard. The hand wrapped around Frank's wrists loosens and he slides his fingertips down Frank's arm to his shoulder, then his throat. He doesn't squeeze, not now when Frank is so willing, but his thumb presses lightly against Frank's pulse-point.
He ends the kiss with a quick bite to Frank's lower lip and murmurs, "God, I want you. Want to fuck you."
Gerard presses his index finger slowly into Frank's ass, kissing him again to catch Frank's moan. Gerard can't quite restrain himself from thrusting forward, his cock sliding against Frank's sweaty hip. "Fuck, Frankie," Gerard says softly. "Gonna fuck you so hard, babe."
He isn't ready--for Gerard's words, or his fingers, but Frank kisses him back, cants his hips up and spreads his legs anyway. He doesn't move his hands, leaves them above his head, one wrist crossed over the other, so that he isn't tempted to touch Gerard's dick, slick and slippery against him. Frank can be good; can be obedient, if he needs to be, if he's made to be. He can take whatever Gerard decides to give him, and more, and he will.
"Fuck me," he tells Gee, forcing himself down against the hand between his legs. "I want it, hard, please."
Reassured by Frank's words, that he wants this, that he needs it as much as Gerard does--and where the hell did his anger go, anyway? Gerard doesn't try very hard to get it back--he strokes his hand down Frank's chest, palming his left nipple. He swipes his tongue over Frank's lips, tasting the metallic tang of Frank's lip ring and the faint aftertaste of blood.
Twisting his finger, then adding a second one, Gerard asks, "Can you take it, Frankie? Tell me you can. I wanna hear it."
He doesn't spend long prepping Frank, because hey, Frank fucked him first, taunted him with digs about Mikey, and yeah, there's the echo of the earlier anger he was looking for. Gerard bites Frank's lip, tugging a bit when he pulls away again.
Frank hasn't really made any move other than what Gerard directed, though, so Gerard lines up his cock and pushes carefully into him, a breathless groan escaping his lips. "Oh, fuck," he whispers roughly. "Fuck."
Frank bites his tongue to keep back the scream in his throat when Gerard presses into him because fuck, it fucking hurts, and the scream turns into a whine, and Frank can do this, he can take it. His fingers twist into the pillowcase somewhere above his head, and he takes a deep breath, tries to relax into the slow burn.
"I can take it," Frank stutters out, and he doesn't know if he's trying to convince Gerard or himself. "Fuck. Fuck, Gee, just do it, please. Fucking hard, okay?"
Frank hooks one leg around Gerard's waist, the heel of his foot slipping in the sweat of the small of Gerard's back. He tugs him closer, thrusting himself down on Gee's cock, gritting his teeth against the pain, knowing he needs it like this so that he will remember.
Gerard almost loses it before he's even really started; he can see the need etched on Frank's face, mingling with the pain there, and it sends a sharp spark of almost there right to his dick. The friction is almost too much, and when Frank pulls him even further in, Gerard throws his head back and groans loudly. His hands slide aimlessly over Frank's slick, colorful skin, scratching and pushing and petting, Gerard doesn't even know, he just stares up at the ceiling for a minute until he can regain control of himself, because somehow control has gotten away from him.
A few deep breaths later, Gerard rocks his hips back and then forward, as smoothly as he can manage, ohfuck, and then repeats the motion, slightly faster, building up a rhythm. He blinks sweat out of his eyes and looks down at Frank again, shaking his head quickly to get his hair out of his eyes. Through the strands still sticking to his forehead, Gerard watches Frank's face, his open mouth as he pants for air.
Gerard doesn't even have enough breath to give voice to the expletive-ridden monologue in his head. He leans forward and presses his cheek to Frank's chest, darts his tongue out to taste Frank's skin, and finally gasps, "Oh god." Then, "Frank. Fuck."
Frank wishes that Gerard's hands on him--his arms and his chest, skimming over his thighs, tracing the letters tattooed on his belly--and Gerard's cock in him were enough to get him hard again, but it's too soon, too much, not enough. He needs more, harder, but Frank can't speak, can only watch as Gerard moves unsteadily above him before finally finding a rhythm, and fuck, it still fucking hurts, but he wants it.
"Come on," he urges, finally moving his hands and threading them through Gerard's hair. "Fuck, Gee, come on, harder. Think you're going to break me? Fuck me."
Frank shivers at the feel of Gerard's tongue and the friction of their skin, and knows he'll never forget this, that he'll still be feeling Gerard days from now.
"Please," he begs. "Come on, Gee, come, I want to fucking feel it."
Gerard does think he might break Frank, the pessimistic side of him playing out in his mind how easy that would be, how much it would ruin everything, but he knows Frank isn't fucking fragile, certainly not physically. He jumps around on stage every single night without hurting himself too badly.
"You fucking like it," Gerard says finally, nipping sharply at Frank's clavicle. "The pain. You fucking want it, don't you? The burn. The hurt."
Gerard pulls out slowly and then drives his hips forward, a deep, steady thrust that he ends with a sharp grunt. It's almost too much, and Gerard's going to come soon, he can feel it, but he wants this to last.
Gerard groans. "You're gonna fucking feel it, Frankie. You fucking will." Gerard knows he will.
Frank huffs out an unsteady breath at the feel of Gerard's teeth on him again, small and sharp and fucking precise.
"Yeah," he says, voice tight. "Fuck, Gee, I like it. I want it. Hard, please."
And what the fuck? When did Frank start fucking saying please to Gerard? He's shameless, rocking into Gerard's thrusts, both legs wrapped tightly around his waist now, so fucking open, begging for it--needing it, desperate for Gerard to just fucking come.
"Gee, come on," Frank pleads. "Do it, please, come on, I want you to fucking come, want to feel it, fuck. I need it, please."
Frank's continued begging finally nudges Gerard over the edge of his control and he lets himself go, hips moving and body curving over Frank. He rests his weight on his elbows and lets his forehead drop, his hair hanging low and pooling in a stringy mess on Frank's throat.
"Oh god," he gasps. His voice is rough and it's hard now to force the words out. "God, Frank, Jesus. Gonna come. Close, Frankie."
Frank's heels press into the small of his back, holding him close. Gerard reaches up with one hand and closes it over Frank's where he's once again twisting the sheets in his fists above his head. He leans up and bites at Frank's lips again, a poor excuse for a kiss.
"Fuck, fuck," he hisses into Frank's mouth. "Oh, fuck." He can't restrain himself any longer, and he thrusts once, twice more into Frank and comes with a high-pitched groan. "Frank."
Frank is still as Gerard comes, breathing in his pleasure and the remnants of his anger. He exhales a small noise as Gerard rests his full weight on top of him, fingers twitching under Gerard's hand. Frank turns his head to the side and looks at the red numbers of the digital clock on the nightstand--12:43 AM. He wonders idly whether the sounds of their fighting, their fucking, have been heard on the other side of the wall, if Mikey and Alicia will look at them in the morning and know.
Frank breathes and thinks and doesn't speak.
"Oh god," Gerard breathes. "Frankie... Are you--Should we--" His mouth keeps moving, but he can't finish any of the sentences he begins. He's babbling, he knows that, and he eventually stops himself by turning Frank's face back toward him and kissing him gently, soothing the little cut on Frank's lip with his tongue. After a moment, he pulls out and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. His hand is still resting on Frank's shoulder.
"I don't think--I didn't--You--Frank... Are we okay?" he says finally, not looking at Frank. That's as good a question as any, and he says it again, more quietly. "Are we okay?"
Now that they aren't making any noise, the room seems huge and full of strange noises. The air conditioner kicks on loudly and Gerard shivers. He can feel the sweat drying on his skin, prickling at the small of his back where he's slightly arched off the wrinkled sheet. His hand and forearm, where he's still touching Frank, feel oddly hot, though, and he doesn't want to move away completely. He's afraid that if he moves away, whatever this is will end, and Gerard doesn't know what that will mean.
Frank closes his eyes after Gerard settles next to him, still touching him. As his breathing calms, he can hear the drip of the faucet in the bathroom, the slam of a door down the hall. His muscles are aching now, and Frank can still feel the bittersweet burn of Gerard. He swallows, mouth dry, lips cracked. He hears Gerard's question and doesn't know what to say in response. Are they okay? Does he even know what that means anymore? There is no going back from this, so they have to be okay, don't they?
"Gerard," Frank begins. He opens his eyes, and there is a crack in the ceiling. "Yeah," he finally replies, "we're okay."
Frank turns away, manages to pull himself up so that he's sitting on the far edge of the bed, his back to Gerard, forearms resting on his thighs and hands dangling between his knees. He nods and does not look back over his shoulder.
"We're fine," he repeats, even if he's pretty sure it's a lie.
When Frank rolls away from him and sits up, Gerard holds in a sigh and looks back up at the ceiling. He can see the curve of Frank's spine in his mind's eye, can picture the tattoos perfectly. He glances over in time to see Frank nod, and even that looks defeated.
"Frank..." Gerard says. He's not sure if he should apologize--what for? Frank threw the first punch, Frank fucked him first, Frank fucking asked, begged for everything Gerard gave him... Fuck. "Are you sure?" he asks finally. "I mean--Shit."
Gerard bends his knees and pulls himself up, wrapping his arms loosely around them. Frank hasn't moved yet from the edge of the bed. He feels cold and exposed, even though Frank's not looking at him. Gerard hunches his shoulders a little, curling into himself. His body aches, and it's more than that well-fucked feeling. He can feel bruises forming.
"I can't believe we just did that," he whispers under his breath, meaning both the fighting and the fucking. It's more for his benefit than Frank's, as if saying it out loud will make it more real. It doesn't quite feel real yet. He looks over at Frank. "Frank? Say something?" He swallows; the inside of his lip is still bleeding and he can taste it in his mouth. Shit. "Frankie, please."
Frank gets up from the bed and it feels like his whole body protests. He slips into the bathroom and turns on the shower, ignoring his reflection in the mirror, wondering how the fuck he's supposed to look at Gerard when he can't even look at himself. He let things get out of hand, let his anger get the better of him, and now that it's gone, he isn't sure what to hold on to.
"Fuck," he murmurs, turns up the temperature of the water, and turns off the light.
Frank finds Gerard still sitting on the bed, folded in on himself, hugging his knees, looking lost. "Come on," he says quietly, tentative hands pulling Gerard to his feet. "Shower."
Frank leads him into the bathroom and there is just enough light from the bedroom for them to see, to step into the shower, Gerard first, and then Frank closing the curtain behind them. He nudges Gerard under the spray, not entirely certain that Gerard won't hit him again. Frank moves closer, stands under the water with him, brings his hands to Gerard's face and cups it gently.
"I'm sorry," he breathes against Gerard's bruised mouth. "I'm so fucking sorry, Gee."
Frank just disappears into the bathroom, without even saying anything, and Gerard feels like the walls are closing in on him. He stares straight ahead, wondering what the fuck he's done, and what the fuck he should fucking do about it. But then, suddenly, Frank's back, and he's touching Gerard, leading him to the bathroom. Gerard follows wordlessly, his mind racing in all kinds of bad directions.
Frank pushes him gently into the shower and fuck, it's hot, but Gerard's muscles begin to relax beneath the weak spray. Frank touches his face and leans close, water dripping from Frank's hair to Gerard's chest, and he fucking apologizes.
Gerard's breath quickens as he thinks of how many ways they've fucked this up, and even the thick steam feels like it's choking him. He stares into Frank's eyes, ashamedly close to tears, and gasps out, "For what? What are you sorry for, Frankie?"
"Fuck, everything," Frank says without thinking. "I just--all the shit that I said, Jesus, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry. The things that I did, Gee, I shouldn't have, and I'm just, I'm so fucking sorry. I'm sorry."
Frank rubs his thumb over Gerard's lower lip, runs his fingers through Gerard's hair, pushing it away from his face, licks at the water dripping from his chin.
"Sorry," he repeats softly, pressing his face into Gerard's neck. "So sorry."
Gerard takes a small step back and braces himself against the plastic tile of the cheap shower, letting Frank's hands keep him upright. He rubs his cheek against Frank's hair and says the first thing that comes into his head: "You didn't, with Mikey. Right? I mean, you said--"
Gerard cuts himself off with a bite to his tongue, banging his head back against the shower wall. "Shit. Sorry. I'm sorry, Frank, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to--y'know. Fuck. Do you still--You still want... Me? I mean. Shit. Do you?"
Gerard grimaces and knocks his head against the wall again. It fucking hurts, on top of his various other injuries. He can feel his chest and neck flush with embarrassment and hopes he can pass it off as a heat flush from the scalding water. He tentatively reaches around and puts his hand at Frank's waist.
Frank covers Gerard's hand at his waist with one of his own, sliding the other up Gerard's back to rest at the base of his skull to stop him hitting his head again. He mouths at the red of Gerard's chest, eyes closed against the water soaking them. Gerard's words twist something in Frank's gut, and suddenly he's holding him closer, pressing the entire length of his body to Gerard's desperately, and the words just start tumbling out.
"Fuck," Frank says. "Yes, god, Gerard, you. It's always been you, and I want you so fucking much. I never, with Mikey, I swear, Gee, I never did anything to him. I promise. I want you. Fuck, I've always wanted you, you fuck, you know that."
He presses a kiss to the hollow of Gerard's throat, quiet for a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking again.
"I want you," Frank repeats. "Tonight--shouldn't have happened the way it did. The things I said, and what I did to you, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have been like that, Gee. It should have been better. I can be better for you, if you'll let me."
"Yes, yes, yes," Gerard whispers, before Frank has even stopped speaking. "I want. I want that. I want you. I, I mean, I have wanted--yes, Frank, Jesus."
Gerard curls his other arm around Frank's back and flattens his palm between Frank's shoulder blades. He presses his head back for a second against Frank's hand then leans in for a desperate kiss.
"I'm sorry, about tonight, Frank, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have been like--I know. I just want--you, I just wanted you, Frank."
"You have me," Frank assures Gerard, tightening his hold. "Whatever you want, you have it. Fuck, you always did. We can do it better, do it right, okay? If you want to."
Frank kisses him, hesitant.
"If you want me, we can do this, okay?"
Gerard moves his hand slowly up from Frank's back to the nape of his neck when Frank kisses him, his fingers sliding through the silky, wet hair he finds there. He nods.
"Yes," he murmurs. "I want to, Frankie. I want us to do this better."