Chapter Text
Night number thirty-something on the road. The lights went down, allowing a chance to escape into the darkened recesses of the venue. Gerard was still on edge from the raw energy in the room, even as the crowd trickled out of the venue. This time in Brooklyn, almost a home show for them.
Despite how the endless days were running together, it was the best night of tour so far. Ray never made mistakes, but his improvisation tonight was especially good tonight. They didn’t have any technical mishaps either. Mikey was having a ton of fun from the looks of it, which wasn’t always the case. Bob held it down, and Frank was as chaotic as ever.
But aside from all of that, it was a hotel night. That was what really mattered. It was a winning streak. A home run.
Gerard wasn’t a going out type as of late, but celebratory partying might be in order after a show like that. And he didn’t have to clamber back onto the bus with the scent of a bar lingering on him. He could actually get in a real bed tonight.
As they finished wrapping up and boarded the bus back to the hotel, he considered if the others had the same idea. He wondered what would be in store for him that evening.
It took roughly ten minutes to drive from the venue to the towering inner-city Hilton they were staying at. The lights of the bus glinted at the exterior as they pulled up.
Hardly a second passed before everyone disembarked. The guys set off for the bustling hotel entrance at the head of the car port, hauling duffle bags and dragging in overnight suitcases.
“Really great man. You killed it,” Ray said in his usual pinched tone, clapping him on the back in praise, “You goin’ out tonight?”
Gerard yanked his suitcase over the footing into the lobby behind him, watching as his brother, Bob, Frank, Cortez and Worm made their way to the elevator. They laughed loudly, walking in an amorphous blob of sweat-drenched hair and black clothing.
He and Ray lingered behind, taking their time. They usually paired off like that, being the more reserved ones of the bunch. Most would be surprised how energetic the others were after a show like that, but it was impossible to come down from the high of playing an arena.
“Uhh, yeah I guess this is probably the best time for it, right?” Gerard said absently, “M’not tired for once.”
“Definitely. Just have fun within reason,” Ray only half-joked.
Gerard stepped into the elevator with him, pressing the tenth floor where all their rooms were located within the same hall.
“So you comin’ then?”
“I better not. Crista’s gonna be at tomorrow’s show and I just need to rest up,” Ray said, lightly kicking his own bag as they ascended, “I bet everyone else is though. Go ask them.”
Gerard nodded, picking at a hole in his jacket sleeve. Ray was right. The other guys were exceptionally rowdy. They were laughing loudly and shouting as they got into the elevator he and Ray had just missed. They were probably already well on their way to showering up and getting ready to head out together.
And when they both stepped out and headed to their respective rooms, Gerard figured he would go ask Mikey what the plan was.
He just needed to rinse the night off himself first.
He waved the keycard in front of his door, opening the lock with a loud click, before kicking it in. Gerard shuffled to the side of the bed with his luggage, dumping it down before heading straight to the shower.
He stripped down, jumping right in to the large, white and brightly lit basin.
His first moment to himself in nearly 36 hours.
He found his mind wandering as he rinsed, not fully focused on the prospect of a bar crawl at the moment. The feeling of warm water and steam, even in the sterile hotel bathroom was making him want to feel a bit fresher than that tonight.
Gerard got out, wrapped in a crisp towel and decided to fiddle through his suitcase and come up with an inconspicuous outfit for the night. Being recognized while he was out enjoying himself as a normal person was insufferable, so he always had to choose wisely.
A thick stack of dark tees, hoodies, jeans, jeans and more jeans.
But something other than his usual staples caught his eye this time.
Dejectedly crumpled in the bottom of the bag were a few items he had forgotten he had even packed. They had ended up underneath all the other items, being significantly smaller and lighter weight.
Gerard ran his hand over the items, turning them and considering.
Gerard softened his wardrobe with feminine aspects every day, like a hint of eyeliner or a pair of tight jeans. He considered himself to be flexible in that way. It was all self-expression, one and the same.
But tonight might be different. It might be an opportunity to feel another way. He plucked the forgotten items out of the bag.
He knew he wouldn’t be hitting up Mikey to see what the guys were doing that night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You were nuts tonight dude,” Mikey laughed, already working on draining a bottle before they had even left the hotel, “You’re gonna get fucked up with us, right?”
Frank had gone back into Mikey’s room with the other guys to talk, but it was already evolving into a pregame.
Bob had returned from the bathroom with a 6-pack and a handle that had magically been pulled out of a bag he was holding. But Bob and Mikey were notoriously the alcoholic Mary Poppins. Booze showed up out of nowhere when they were around.
“Yeah man I’m still wired,” Frank said, sparking up a smoke inside the room, despite hotel policy, “What’s the plan?”
They had huddled around, cracking into the first drinks of the night and talking about the show.
Cortez and Bob were sprawled on the bed on their phones, nursing their drinks and presumably looking up bars. They looked comically out of place on the geometric-patterned orange bed comforter.
“The plan is for us to finish this case of beer before we get there, and to forget we have six more dates to play,” Mikey said, only partially kidding, as he cracked into another drink. His bony fingers dug into the case, throwing one to Frank, before taking a seat at the desk.
Frank shrugged, sucking on his cigarette and wondering if the smoke detector would go off.
And before he knew it, Frank was herded downstairs to the hotel bar in a group of his semi-drunken friends. New York traffic on a Friday might wasn’t going to permit them to go anywhere else. Luckily, the bar downstairs was its own entity. Not a Hilton-branded courtesy bar. It was some trendy bullshit with paper lanterns and neon lights.
It looked exactly like the type of place Frank would normally avoid, in fact. He would’ve liked to have avoided everyone inside of it as well. A strange mix of wasted NYU college kids, wealthy whiskey-sipping 30-something socialites, and urban hipsters were crowded inside in the artificial warmth. He was positive that the other guys didn’t vibe with the crowd either, but no one would recognize them and they could leave whenever they wanted. For that reason, Frank was fine with dealing.
When the entered the place, he headed straight for the bar to get some liquor in his system. Frank was running on 5 hours of sleep from the night before, but he just couldn’t relax after a show like that.
Mikey had already found some tattooed cool girl to talk to. His usual reserved self was quickly substituted for Drunk Mikey, an overly confident and talkative version of himself. Much like his brother.
For a moment, Frank considered that Gerard hadn’t come out with them. It was disappointing, considering the energy between them had been off lately. He was going to try to back him into a corner and at least get him to have a normal conversation with him for once.
This time last year, Frank and Gerard were inseparable. He told him all about his breakup with Jamia, which made them closer. Gerard, in exchange, had told him about his drug problem. Their connection might have been out of need for understanding, but he considered it genuine nonetheless. However, it seemed lately that Gerard was almost avoiding him lately.
It might have been out of self-preservation, from what Frank could gather. Gerard might have felt like he shared too much with him, and now he was attempting to distance himself again.
They had that in common. Not trusting anyone.
Fuck it though. He’d spent enough hours wondering why Gerard would make polite small talk in favor of their usual discussions. Or why he seemed to leave a room as soon as he entered.
Frank took a sip of his tequila and rolled his eyes at Mikey, the shadow of his brother, before making his way over to Bob and Worm instead. They were leaned against the bar, deeply engrossed in a conversation about how rude one of the opening bands had been. He tucked in to listen, letting his mind wander again.
Time ticked by and the world was slowing to a crawl as Frank became more and more intoxicated. The world felt like it was under water, the purple lights in the darkness made everything feel surreal.
Three hours and four drinks in, it was nearing 11 and Frank was getting sick of being there. He was surpassing the level of socially acceptable drunk into the realm of shitfaced, which was usually his cue to go to bed.
But as he turned away from the bar, feeling his head spin from moving too quickly, he caught sight of someone that quickly grabbed his attention.
Leaning up against some guy was a truly stunning person. A sexy fucking bitch, as Frank’s intoxicated narrative rudely offered. She had choppy, unruly black hair and dark-rimmed eyes. Her legs were tightly encased in thigh-high, pastel pink boots with long zippers up the back. The unnatural plastic material caught the light as she swayed to the music.
A thin black dress clung to her pale body from under the comical pink feather boa that was slung around her neck.
Frank couldn’t look away.
It was as if he had seen her in a dream. Or met her in another lifetime, and she had reincarnated into the dumb Brooklyn bar just to see if Frank would recognize her.
And Frank did recognize her.
“I’m just gonna…” Frank jerked his head toward the bathroom without much of an explanation to the guys. He was too drunk for formalities.
His feet were already ahead of him, walking straight toward the familiar stranger without so much as a clue of what he was going to say.
His movements through the bustling crowd were slow and calculated. The strobe lights made everything harder to focus on. But when he finally got there, he was sure he wouldn’t regret making a fool of himself for it.
She turned away from her male companion, who seemed to already be wandering off when her attention was lost.
“Hey…” Frank mustered, fixating on her painted red lips. The sound of the thudding music resonated in his ears, reminding him how wasted he was.
“Hey there,” Sexy stranger said back. Her eyes narrowed, searching. Scanning him for something. The feeling of being in this situation before hit him over the head suddenly.
It all would’ve been unusual under any other circumstance, but he chose to ignore it.
In that exact moment, Frank also realized it was most certainly not a girl.
But rather, a guy in very convincing drag. And he could not give less of a fuck either. In the morning he would be feeling confused, but his common sense had given out like an overstretched limb.
“Did you… want something?” He drawled calculatedly, still looking at him. He was taller than him by a few inches, but Frank didn’t care.
“You’re gorgeous,” Frank said without missing a beat. The liquid courage did its job that night. That was so out of character for him. But then again, he had never felt so immediately compelled to someone like this.
A moment went on without a response, and Frank thought he might have overstepped. It had been years since he had attempted hitting on a stranger.
His bored eyes flickered with light, and he bit his lip, shifting closer into his personal space.
“Gorgeous, huh?”
He took a sip of the bottle of beer he was holding, never looking away from Frank.
“Do you mean that?”
Almost as if to ask, ‘you know I’m a guy, right?’ But Frank was far too buzzed to back down.
“I really do,” He said, leaning into him so he could hear him better. His face was close enough to graze the stranger’s cheek. He could smell some cheap, heady cotton candy perfume and a trace of cigarettes on him.
“Promise?” He said, looking up from under his mascara coated lashes.
Frank nodded, dazed and turned on. He didn’t know how far he was going with this.
Until he felt something thin and plastic slipping into his free hand.
“Room 21. Meet me there later?” He whispered into his ear, sending chills up his neck. His nasally east-coast voice was something he recognized. Maybe being home and hearing his own accent from others was something he forgot about.
“M’kay,” Frank gripped the key card, licking his lips. It was like they were the only two people in the entire noisy club.
“Nice to meet you then,” He smiled, leaning in closer, before withdrawing.
He sauntered off toward the exit, leaving Frank considering that he hadn’t even asked for his name.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
A little less than an hour passed since he had left Frank standing there.
He had taken the time to close his tab, check in with the other guys, and work up the strength to leave knowing his fate.
As he ascended in the elevator up to the second floor, he took a deep breath and stared at his reflection on the ceiling. He still wasn’t sobering up, and his head spun slightly from the altered perspective.
When the door dinged and he reached his stop, his heart was thundering.
Frank walked slowly and deliberately down the quiet hall, close to his own room. He considered for only a moment that he might get murdered or assaulted, but the prospect of what might happen outweighed the risk.
It had all happened so quickly, but he just didn’t care.
He knocked once and waited. He heard a faint “come in” and held up the keycard, letting the lock click open before gently opening the door.
Immediately across from the door was the large bed, white and fluffy. And there he was, waiting.
“Hey,” He called softly.
“Hey…” Frank started, taking a hesitant step into the room.
Pretty boy was sprawled out on the bed in the same boots and dress, leaning on an elbow and holding his phone and a cigarette. It dangled between his fingers as he finished typing a text.
The lights were dim, and the curtains were drawn shut. A bedside lamp illuminated his figure warmly.
“I gave you the key for a reason. You didn’t have to knock,” He snorted, his soft speaking voice sounding like something he’d dreamed. He didn’t look up from his phone immediately, so he must’ve trusted him for a stranger.
“Sorry,” Frank said gruffly, not sure if he was reading him correctly. He took another step forward before pausing near the foot of the bed.
Pretty boy finally looked up, staring while Frank was frozen in the threshold in a tipsy stupor. He leaned over to place his phone on the nightstand, taking a long drag of the cigarette.
“C’mere,” He beckoned, exhaling a lungful of smoke from his brightly painted lips.
That set the gears turning in Frank’s head. Familiar, yet totally foreign.
Dark rimmed eyes flickered up and down his body as he made his way over. Frank shuffled the remaining few steps toward the bed. The angel extended his hand, gesturing for him to lay next to him. And he did.
He stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray next to the bed before turning toward Frank
Frank leaned back on the bed, waiting to see what his next move would be. Before he knew it, the pink boots were on either side of his hips, and he was planted firmly in his lap. The boy wasted no time, which was fine with Frank.
“Mm,” Frank breathed softly, surprised he had come onto him so quickly. His hands quickly settled on his thin waist.
“Gorgeous, huh?” He smiled wickedly, recounting Frank’s earlier compliment. He began rocking ever-so-slightly, teasingly on Frank’s lap. But not enough to make contact with Frank’s quickly hardening cock, which was irritating him already, “You really know how to sweet talk a lady.”
He let out a groan, grinding up without so much as an afterthought, yanking him forward against his body. It all felt like déjà vu.
“So gorgeous, baby. Had to… Had to have you,” Frank whispered, chest heaving as he breathed heavily. The boy’s darkly made-up eyes were the same hazel color as his own. They illuminated when he spoke.
He laughed a sing-songy laugh in response, reaching up and grazing Frank’s cheek. The prickling sound of his stubble under her lithe, pale fingers filled his ears.
“You’re gorgeous yourself, sugar. So many tattoos…” He nuzzled into Frank’s neck as he spoke, and he shivered in response, “You got more of them?”
He was prodding his shirt up his chest with gentle fingers, causing Frank to shudder at the touch.
“Go ahead and find out,” Frank offered, leaning back.
The angel smiled, looking at him with a curious glance. Frank gave him a permissive look, nodding. He slipped his black tee shirt off his body.
The look on pretty boy’s face turned on Frank more than anything. His heavily lidded gaze and parted lips as he drank in all the ink on his body were breathtaking.
“Oh… Wow…” He said, running his hands up his body firmly this time, “I want to lick every single one.”
Frank felt a groan tear from his throat, imagining him latching onto the ink on his hips.
“Fuck, go ahead baby...”
He smiled, ghosting down Frank’s chest with his petite fingers, kissing down his bare chest.
“Wait,” Frank hesitated for a moment before losing his self-consciousness, “I really haven’t been with… well… in so long…”
“Been with a guy?” He prompted.
“Yeah.”
He seemed to relish in that thought for a moment, biting his lip. He was drinking in the sight of Frank’s body, which contrasted his own so beautifully, sprawled out underneath him. Maybe he was feeling special since Frank chose him for his first encounter in years. Or maybe he was judging him.
But he was already descending him, rolling his hips and dragging down his body toward Frank’s exposed, hardening cock.
“You scared you’ll regret it?” He pressed in a hushed tone, stopping to rest his head on his chest. He looked up from under his lashes as he spoke.
Frank thought for only a moment, before staring down at the delicate boy resting on his body. If thinking he was sexy made him a fag, he couldn’t care less.
“No,” Frank said finally, “You’re too pretty for me to regret anything.”
“Sugar,” He sighed happily, kissing his chest.
He began his way back down as Frank laced his fingers into his long, silky black hair. He went down down down, kissing the whole way, before stopping between his legs. He looked up deviously, mouth wet and open and dangerously close to his throbbing cock.
“You sure?” He gave Frank one last chance.
Frank licked his lips at the sight, taking the boy’s jaw in his fingers and guiding him closer to it.
“Only if you promise to be a good girl,” He grunted, “You gonna suck me like a good girl?”
He began gingerly licking at the head of Frank’s cock before he got a chance to answer.
“Oh, fuck…” Frank moaned, bucking his hips and looking down at him.
He smiled around him, looking prettier than any girl he’d ever seen.
“You can fuck my mouth daddy, I don’t mind.”
Frank couldn’t bring himself to respond. His head was still spinning, and he could’ve believe he had gotten in this situation so quickly. It was also extremely uncharacteristic for him to let anyone else take the reins in the bedroom, but it only seemed fitting right now. Well, that and he couldn’t even imagine moving now that he had laid down.
Pretty boy was now sucking fully on his length, moaning lightly and looking up at him with those heavily made-up eyes. He looked like someone Frank had dreamed of before.
“Such a sweet mouth, baby,” Frank said lazily, carding his fingers through his hair and thrusting up, “Pretty angel boy.”
He blushed, lapping at him before pulling off to reply.
“You’re so fucking big,” He whined, lapping at the head momentarily, “Can’t wait to sit on it.”
He sunk back down, taking Frank into his throat and swallowing before he could even respond.
“Fuck!” Frank exclaimed, rolling his hip into his mouth.
It was just like getting sucked off by a girl, but with a bonus level of filth he never had felt before. Frank could deal with his sexuality another time. It was too good right now.
Pretty boy worked him intensely for the next minute. Or it could’ve been ten. He was losing track of time feeling his eyes roll back in his head, and his lingering drunkenness washing over him.
He would bring Frank nearly to the edge, before easing up a little, playfully sucking and feeling his cock between his lips.
“Can I have it now?” He said in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Can I take your cock? I got it nice and wet for you.”
If Frank had been any less drunk, that alone would’ve made him cum. Along with several other instances of dirty talk.
“Mm yeah baby, you gonna ride me?” Frank took his cock in his hand, jerking lazily and staring at the pretty face below him, “Put your little ass in my lap sweetheart.”
He crawled back up his body, coming to settle in Frank’s lap for the second time that night. Only this time, he was grinding down on his painfully hard cock between his thighs.
He gently lifted the hem of his dress, exposing lacy panties barely containing his smaller, leaking one.
Pretty boy turned his head shyly when Frank gawked at him.
“Jesus Christ, look at you. Such a naughty girl with these panties.”
It was all Frank could muster after seeing that lewd, hot as hell sight. Frank fumbled with his panty line for a moment, examining him hungrily, before his hands were gently forced back to his sides.
“Let me,” He winked, licking his lips where the red lipstick was smeared from giving head. Frank also considered where else it might be, before looking at his cock and nearly moaning at the sight of the same red smeared around it.
He wasn’t wrong about him being tired. The liquor was slowing him down more and more as the night went on. Luckily, the pretty boy seemed more than happy to do the work for him.
He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Frank’s neck and began sucking at his collarbone while he reached back to line himself up. He took Frank’s cock, prodding at his entrance and rocking slightly.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, daddy…” He whispered, teasing the head of his cock at his entrance, “I stretched myself before you got here. But I’m still scared it won’t fit… Didn’t think you were so damn big.”
He wasn’t lying. Frank’s cock looked exceptionally thick between his thighs. He feigned nervousness, biting his lip and shutting his eyes.
“Will you put it in me?” He whined into Frank’s neck, “I’ll do the rest.”
Frank was so painfully turned on he was scared he wouldn’t last if he did, but luckily enough the whiskey was keeping him hanging on longer. Frank kissed him deeply, feeling their tongues meet, as he pushed into him slowly. He held Frank’s hands still pinned at his sides.
“Oh f-fuck yeah…” He let out a breathy moan, sitting down the rest of the way on his cock and leaning forward to kiss Frank again, “Daddy…”
“Keep saying that,” Frank growled, feeling him begin to rise and sink down on him slowly.
“Daddy... Feels so good daddy. So good in my tight little hole,” He moved his hands teasingly over his chest, over the dress, never breaking eye contact with him, “Daddy’s so big.”
The stupid baby pink thigh-high boots squeaked as he bounced up and down, and Frank was struck with a brilliant idea.
“Shit baby, turn around for me. Wanna see you get fucked,” He ordered, guiding his hips off him and helping him arrange himself.
He swung a leg around and straddled him in reverse-cowgirl, giving Frank a delicious view of his perky ass, lacey panties to the side, and thick thighs spilling out of the tight boots.
“Oh that’s it,” Frank whispered reverently, pulling him back down onto his cock, “That’s it pretty girl. Work yourself on daddy’s cock.”
He moaned, sinking back down to the base, before beginning a steady rhythm of fucking himself again. He bounced up and down slowly, his ass jiggling and giving Frank a beautiful lapful of it.
“Fuck, oh there! There daddy,” He cried out, hitting his prostate with Frank’s cock.
“Found it baby?” Frank smiled lazily, letting him ride it out.
“Yeah, shit, you’re so so big I can feel every inch of you inside me,” He whined, “”M’gonna cum so fast mm.”
Pretty boy’s voice sounded so familiar in that moment to Frank, he almost forgot where he was and what he was doing.
He had a cross-dressing angel boy riding his cock and calling him daddy in a hotel room.
They met an hour ago. He didn’t know his name. He didn’t know Frank’s name.
Frank was wasted and exhausted and it all started crashing down on him.
“Daaaddy… Daaaddy…” Angel cried out, going deep and hard. He looked over his shoulder at Frank, his delicate features flushed. His swollen lips were parted, smeared in red. His thin, flat chest heaved under the black dress that clung to his figure.
“Cum, sweetheart. You feel so damn good. Cum for me,” Frank sighed, gripping his hips firmly and forcefully sinking him back onto his cock.
And he did.
Pretty boy choked out a strangled cry as he finished, undulating in his lap and palming at his cock from over his clothing.
“A-ah… Want you to cum too, please,” He panted.
That was all the prompting Frank needed to finally sit up, feeing the blood rush from his head and the hotel room spin.
He climbed on top of him, straddling his ass and giving three hard strokes before finishing inside of him.
The last drunken memory Frank had of that night was angel boy cleaning him off, lazily nursing on his cock to get the last of it off him.
“Tastes so good, daddy.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, Frank woke up alone in room 21.
The hangover he had was only slightly shitty, and the light streaming through the window made him wince as he recollected the night’s events.
He sat up, going to take a piss.
And as he stood at the toilet looking down at himself, he saw the red lipstick from the night before still smudged around him. It all came flooding back to him in an instant.
The sing songy laugh. Calling him sugar. The milky white skin. His curvy build. His hazel eyes. The trust. The familiarity.
He should’ve been angry. He should’ve been furious. Maybe when it wasn’t so fresh he would be, but instead his heart panged with pain.
He felt empty.
Used.
He exited the bathroom, looking around for a trace of angel boy, only to find the room totally empty. The suitcases were gone. Not so much as a toothbrush was at the sink.
It was nearly 10 a.m., and call time to be on the bus was 11. He didn’t have the time to linger on it any longer, so he turned to leave, feeling disgusted.
Hanging from the doorknob was the pair of panties.