Archive of Our Own

“We should hang out more.”

Gerard paced the hotel room, counting steps in his head. His head was spinning, reeling from the aftershocks of having just played with My Chemical fucking Romance again, the adrenaline crash would soon start slowly creeping in. He'd tried distracting himself with something mindless on TV but every channel seemed to grate on his nerves. It was a nice place – a coffee machine complete with Starbucks pods, a big-ass TV mounted opposite the bed above a desk, fancy wooden panels decorating the wall the bed was against. The room was silent except for the low hum from the AC and the distant sounds of the city below, the barest of white noise in contrast to the riot going on in his head.

He'd been people-watching from a corner of the green room when Frank broke through the crowd with a Red Bull and cigarettes outstretched. Their fingers brushed when Gerard took them, smiling softly and cracking the can.

“It's fucking loud out there,” Frank laughed, just loud enough to be heard over the chaos of the room.

“It's loud in here,” Gerard snorted, taking a sip and bringing the cigarette to his lips.

A silence fell and Gerard's eyes scanned the room, praying for someone to come up and start talking, praying for Frank to say something. For a long time now, silences between them had held that slight air of awkward. Gerard just... never knew what to say, didn't want to cross any lines. It wasn't like they'd ever really stopped talking after everything happened, but it felt like walking on eggshells. He didn't want to cross some boundary – the idea of fucking up and not having Frank around him anymore at all, ever, was so fucking terrifying he'd rather deal with the most awkward of silences.

“We should hang out more,” Frank said, lighting his own smoke. “Like, just us.”

Gerard's heart jumped into his throat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, like tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, blowing his hair out of his eyes as he exhaled. “What room are you in?”

Gerard hesitated for just a split-second. “Yeah, uh, sure. I'm in 616.”

There hadn't been much time to discuss precisely what Frank meant by hanging out because they started making calls and countdowns and suddenly the room was abuzz with a new level of chaos, the clusterfuck before the curtains rose.

So far they'd managed to skirt around the topic, conversations pointedly polite and professional and full of awkward exits. They'd barely been left in a room alone together for long enough to get into any serious non-business, in fact. Everything was fixated on the band, and that had been working out great so far. But Gerard knew, and he knew Frank did too, that they couldn't just sweep it under the rug and keep tiptoeing around landmines with each other when they were bringing the band back together.

They'd been split into two vans after the show, Gerard squeezed into the backseat with Mikey and Worm. In the post-show chaos he'd managed to lose sight of Frank entirely until he saw the second van pull out ahead of them and caught just a glimpse of him through the back window.

“He's fine and you're fine,” Mikey murmured, nudging him in the ribs.

Gerard nudged him back, giving a pointed glance at the full car around them and Mikey shot him an apologetic look. The rest of the ride back was silent, Gerard's head against the cool of the window, eyes closed against the city lights whipping past them.

Once they'd pulled into the hotel, Gerard and Mikey huddled against the side of the building, cigarettes in their mouths. The other van had beat them to the parking lot and was sitting locked and empty next to the one they'd just tumbled out of. Ray was probably already in bed, hair wrapped in a towel, drinking minibar wine and watching infomercials. Frank was probably making a valiant effort to drain the hotel of all the hot water it had. Worm hung back briefly to let the brothers know what the plans were for the next morning, and Gerard rocked on his heels until he was out of earshot.

“He wants to hang out,” Gerard blurted as soon as it was safe, and Mikey rolled his eyes. “Hey, you brought it up, I-”

“So go hang out with him, you'll be fine,” Mikey interrupted, resting a hand on Gerard's shoulder. “I know it's you and Frank but it's you and Frank, Gee.”

Gerard looked down at his feet, blowing out a cloud of smoke and resting his head back on the wall. “I don't even know if that's a good thing.”

“If shit goes bad, you know where I am. Ray's just down the hall,. But I'm pretty sure you won't need me,” Mikey sighed, the slightly frustrated expression Gerard knew all too well from so many years of fucking life. “You should really see how he still looks at you, when he thinks no one's watching.”

Gerard huffed, tossing the butt in the direction of the gutter. “This is fucking terrifying.”

“It'll be okay,” Mikey repeated, stomping his cigarette out with his shoe and leading the way inside. “Just... try not to overwhelm each other.”

And Gerard had been in his room a good twenty minutes now, the idea of distractions abandoned. He wasn't even sure if Frank was gonna come knocking, let alone what time. He glanced at his phone, considering sending a message for a split second, but he didn't want to come across annoying or pushy. They'd literally just played their first show back as My Chemical Romance for fuck's sake – Gerard really wouldn't blame Frank if all he did was come back and faceplant into the king-sized bed, dead to the world in minutes. It was a tempting idea for himself, if his adrenaline-riddled anxiety brain hadn't been in overdrive.

So he continued his pacing, chewing his thumb nail, because it was the only thing he could do. Everything was loud, loud and complicated, and he was losing his rhythm.

He was about two minutes away from messaging Mikey to meet him downstairs for another cigarette and maybe throwing himself in the shower when there was a small knock at his door.

Gerard's heart was immediately in his throat again, ten times worse than back in the green room. For a moment he hesitated – maybe it wasn't his door, maybe it was housekeeping – but a second knock came.

“Gee, you in there?”

There wasn't anywhere to hide.

Gerard swallowed hard, taking a deep breath through his nose as he stepped towards the door and pulled it open.

“Hey.”

Frank was in the hall, his hair still damp from the shower he'd probably made a run for, dark sweatpants slug low on his hips and a shirt that was almost more hole than fabric. Gerard swallowed again and prayed it wasn't obvious, because it'd been a really fucking long time since he'd seen Frank like this. He stepped aside and let Frank slip through the door, clicking it shut behind them.

Frank crossed the room and settled on the foot of the bed, and Gerard followed, sitting up near the pillows. He started picking at his nails and stared at his feet, still in socks, not exactly sure what the fuck he was meant to do.

“We did good tonight,” Frank said, and Gerard let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. “You did really good.”

Gerard felt the blood rush to his face. Praise. Praise from Frank always, always got him, right in the gut, no matter the context.

“It was time,” he muttered, shrugging. “I dunno. We need to be back.”

Another awkward silence settled over them. Something in Gerard wanted to scream.

“Can I ask a dumb question?” Frank asked, running a hand through his hair.

Gerard shrugged. “Sure, but you might get a dumb answer.”

Frank let out a soft laugh and seemed to hesitate for a moment, and Gerard looked up at him.

“Do you miss us?”

Gerard's eyes dropped and if his heart had been in his throat, it was knocking at his back teeth now. He really, really wasn't expecting that straight up and out of the blue, and he felt his hands start shaking. He hadn't rehearsed some script in case it popped up and now he was a deer in headlights.

“All... all the time,” Gerard replied, his voice barely audible even in the deafening silence. “Like... all the fucking time.”

He dared to glance at Frank, hoping there was some tell in his body language, in his eyes. Some inkling as to whether this was what he was meant to say, if it's what Frank wanted to hear, and Gerard caught the quickest glimpse of what could've been a smile before staring straight at his mismatched socks again.

Frank cleared his throat, and Gerard felt him scoot a little closer on the bed.

“I do too, y'know,” Frank murmured, reaching his hand out to lay between them.

Gerard couldn't help but watch the movement, and there was a flurry of vicious butterflies in his guts. Such a small, seemingly insignificant gesture. He stared at Frank's hand, the lines and shapes he knew so well, stark colors against hotel-white sheets. The hands he'd held for so fucking long and had missed so desperately it hurt.

It wasn't as if they'd had nothing to do with each other, they'd always stayed close. It'd just been... different, for a long time. A long time with no us. A long time of missing those hands, that voice, the closeness that only ever felt right between them. Gerard couldn't explain it in any terms but love, he'd never been able to, just knew the hole in his chest when things suddenly changed and there was no Frank, not like before. They made damn sure and fought their own issues to stay in each other's lives, but there was an undeniable missing piece, something that wasn't right.

“Gerard?”

Gerard looked Frank in the eyes, blinking back tears he didn't realize had even formed. “Yeah?”

The silence wasn't so awkward anymore.

“I missed you, angelboy.”

Gerard felt a heavy shudder run through his spine and he took Frank's hand, intertwining their fingers. He snaked his other arm around Frank's bicep, almost wrapping himself around Frank's arm. Gerard pressed his forehead to the curve of Frank's shoulder, his pulse at a hum just like it had been walking onto that stage tonight.

“I fucking missed you,” he said, his voice breaking a little, and it was taking all his self control not to just jump and tangle himself up with Frank, feel all his warmth and solidity and breathing against him. “Daddy.”

Frank's whole arm tensed as he squeezed Gerard's hand, the small movement silent reassurance and so familiar. It'd been so fucking long since Gerard had felt that sensation, the spark Frank's touch sent through his nerve endings, even when it was, on the surface, the most innocent of gestures. Gerard pressed his eyes shut and squeezed back, then he felt Frank place a soft kiss to the top of his head and he shuddered again.

“We're fucking stupid, aren't we?” Frank said, the slightest hint of a laugh in his voice. Gerard just smiled a little into Frank's arm, nodding in agreement.

“Really fucking stupid,” he murmured, his voice slightly muffled by the sleeve of Frank's shirt. This kind of closeness, the intimacy... Gerard had fucking yearned for it for so long. “You smell good, you smell like you.”

Frank laughed and ruffled Gerard's hair with his free hand. “You smell like you totally avoided the shower, nerd.”

Gerard pulled back, flustered, because he probably should've put those twenty minutes to better use than pointless pacing. “I was just anxious and-”

“Hey, no, I'm making fun,” Frank interrupted, bringing his hand to rest on the back of Gerard's neck. It was an awkward position, but his hand felt warm, comforting. “You know I don't give a fuck, I can deal.”

Gerard loosened his grip in Frank's arm, sighing. “No, I should go shower. Is... is that okay?”

Frank smiled. “Of course, Gee.”

Gerard squeezed his hand and as he went to let go to head to the bathroom, Frank pulled him in for a kiss. Gerard fucking melted, a jolt running straight to the pit of his stomach and his grip on Frank's arm tightening again. It was familiar, something he'd missed so much it fucking hurt, Frank's mouth hot and warm, tongue exploring Gerard's mouth like it was the first time in the back of the van again, but now he knew the fucking things that tongue was capable of. Gerard's head was spinning – it'd been so long, so fucking long, and they'd both been so fucking stupid, but here they were in the aftermath of a fucking reunion show, clinging to each other on a pristine hotel bed and the world could end around them and they wouldn't even notice.

When Frank pulled away, Gerard hoped he didn't hear the tiny, desperate moan from the back of his throat.

“Shower time, Gee,” Frank said, pressing another soft kiss to Gerard's forehead. “I'm gonna go grab us a movie from my room, where's your key at?”

Gerard made some grumble of agreement, squeezing Frank's arm again before letting him go. “'S near the coffee machine.”

He rose from the bed and stretched, feeling the knots in his shoulders grind, and he had to admit there was probably going to be more than one benefit from a shower. There was still adrenaline rushing in his bloodstream, and even he had to admit he fucking reeked when he lifted his arms.

Frank's fingertips skittered across the small stretch of skin between Gerard's shirt and jeans, laughing when he yelped and jumped away.

“Fuckin' nerd,” Frank laughed, rising off the bed with a nod towards the bathroom. “Go get clean. I'll be back, promise.”

Gerard scratched his head and nodded, shuffling towards the bathroom and shutting the door softly behind him. He heard the room door click shut behind Frank and stuck his arm into the shower to turn the water on.

As he stripped off his stale, stage-sweaty clothes he noticed his hands and legs still shaking, just a little. It'd been so fucking simple. It was like... two, three sentences and suddenly everything was en route back to some kind of normal. Maybe that's what Mikey had meant about him and Frank back in the parking lot. It felt like they didn't have to say anything. In that moment, it didn't feel entirely real. Part of him expected to wake up any minute now.

Gerard stepped under the shower and let out a deep breath, feeling the almost-too-hot water beat down on his shoulders, his head dropped forwards. It was too quiet for his liking, but he'd left his phone on the desk and he definitely wasn't running ass-naked across the carpeted room for three songs worth of background music. He could feel his skin flushing red under the heat. It was happening - he wasn't dreaming this time around.

Lingering in the shower was not a Way trait, and he squeezed out a glob of the fancy hotel shampoo, running his fingers through stringy-greasy hair and rinsing out the grime. Then conditioner, which he let soak in while he upended almost the entire tiny bottle of shower gel.

Out in the room he heard the door open and shut again. As he rinsed off once more and brushed his teeth, his mind ticked over what was going to happen when he stepped back out. Sure, that kiss had been enough to send shockwaves and make his cock twitch in his jeans, but that was how Frank almost always kissed. Gerard felt that little twinge of anxiety in his gut again, because he didn't know how far things were gonna go – if they were even gonna go at all. He spat out the toothpaste and took another deep breath. If it just ended up with the two of them watching some god-awful movie, in a comfortable silence, that was more than enough. Anything else... that was a bonus.

He found himself really, really hoping they'd end up with some kind of bonus.

Gerard stepped out onto the stark white bathmat, picked up a towel off the rack and wrapped it around his shoulders. The bathroom air was freezing against his thighs and he felt the goosebumps rise up on his skin. There were a pair of fluffy robes hanging on the back of the door, so he slipped into one and towelled his hair dry enough that it stopped dripping. He realized in that moment that he'd not brought any clothes in with him – he'd been so abuzz with electricity from Frank's kiss that he hadn't even brought in new socks.

'Whatever, go out, come back, get dressed,' he thought, taking another deep breath and giving himself a final glace in the mirror.

When Gerard opened the bathroom door Frank was kicked back on the far side of the bed, one arm above his head. It raised the hem of his shirt just enough for Gerard to make out part of the search scrawled in ink on his hip. He'd turned off the main light in favor of the bedside lamps, the room now just dimly lit by their warm glow and the TV screen. A glance at the TV and it turned out Frank's movie choice of the night was Dawn of the Dead, the DVD menu a technicolor nightmare.

“Forgot to take my clothes in,” Gerard said, shuffling towards the duffel bag full of clothes under the desk. “I'll be like, two min-”

“Don't,” Frank said, and Gerard jumped when he felt Frank's hand on his elbow through the fluffy fabric of the bathrobe. When Gerard turned, Frank was on his knees on the bed, and Gerard knew the kind of look he had on his face.

“I-I gotta get some kinda-”

Frank shook his head. “Just come cuddle. Please.”

The butterflies flurried in Gerard's stomach and he knew that he wasn't gonna wind up in his sweatpants any time soon. If nothing else Frank was stubborn and knew what he wanted, and he was incredibly well-versed in going after it, whatever it might be. There was no chance Gerard was gonna curl up in bed wrapped in a damp towel and bathrobe though, that shit was just uncomfortable no matter how soft the fabrics were.

“Just lemme get some underwear,” Gerard murmured, leaning down to grab the Star Wars boxer briefs that were conveniently at the top of the bag.

Frank made some grumbly noise but settled back where he'd been laying, and Gerard slipped on his underwear under the robe before hesitating. It'd been a long time. Like, a really fucking long time, since they'd done anything like this, the air in the room between them laced with intimacy. It'd been so long since Frank had seen him in less than a t-shirt and (admittedly, sometimes incredibly short) shorts, and Gerard's heart was fucking racing at the idea of being so vulnerable.

“Gee?”

Gerard swallowed hard, pressed his eyes shut, and let the robe fall from his shoulders. He could feel goosebumps over his skin and Frank's eyes on him as he set it down on the desk. 'Just get in bed,' he thought, staring at the corner of the screen where the DVD menu was still playing. 'Just get in bed and it'll be okay.'

Frank hadn't huddled down under the covers yet so Gerard just flopped on the bed beside him gracelessly. Before he could even get properly situated Frank's arms were wrapping around him, pulling them close together. Gerard could feel the heat of Frank's skin through the thin fabric of his hole-ridden t-shirt, a warmth he'd missed like an addict. He wrapped one hand around Frank's arm that was slung over his waist, the other hand clutching at the pillowcase because he just didn't know what the fuck to do with his hands.

“I thought we were watching a movie,” Gerard murmured, and he couldn't help the slight smirk, a tease in his voice.

Frank grumbled again, pressing his face into the back of Gerard's neck. “We will.”

“You've got the remote.”

“I've also got you,” Frank chuckled, his breath tickling just a little. “And I missed you.”

Gerard could feel his face blush red. Frank's breath was hot against his skin, and they both knew one of Gerard's total weak points was his neck. Maybe it had something to do with the obsession with horror – especially vampires - since he was a kid, maybe it was the other way around. He'd be lying if he didn't admit one of the things he missed most about Frank was the way he knew how to sink his teeth into his throat just right, leaving heavy bite marks that bloomed into bruises. The sensation of Frank's breathing was like some teaser trailer.

“We don't have to do anything except the movie,” Frank mumbled, his thumb tracing circles where it rested on Gerard's stomach. “Like, I don't wanna push too much too soon.”

Gerard paused before he answered. He was human, he had needs or whatever, and he didn't want to think about or admit how long it'd been. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind, despite the nervousness and hesitation taking off the robe, that he wanted what Frank was talking about. He'd be a liar if he said he hadn't been hoping for Frank to bring it up. It felt almost like it was their first time all over again with the awkwardness and anxiety. There'd been so many nights Gerard had spent wishing for this again, countless imaginary scenarios that despite their different settings and scripts, at their core, were all the same.

Words kind of escaped Gerard in the moment, so instead, he rolled his hips, grinding his ass against Frank's crotch and he could feel the heat through those thin sweatpants. The arm around Gerard's waist tightened as Frank pulled them close together, so close Gerard thought they might just morph into one Cronenburg-ian creature if they weren't careful. He could feel Frank's sternum against his spine and cock against his ass, and he couldn't not roll his hips again.

“Use your words, kitten,” Frank said, his voice low, and every time he slipped in a pet name Gerard found himself melting all over again. He'd fucking missed it so much – the nicknames, the rules, the way Frank knew how to tear him to absolute fucking pieces and then wrap him in blankets and put him all back together.

'Rip off the fucking bandaid,' Gerard thought as he swallowed his nerves. “I. I want you to fuck me, Daddy.”

A low groan escaped Frank's lips and he pressed his face into the crook of Gerard's neck. “Fuck I've missed hearing that, Gee. C'mere.”

The arm around Gerard's waist tensed with his words, like a nudge to roll over. And he did, but not before a deep, shaky breath he knew Frank felt.

Gerard wanted to just hide his face in Frank's chest, grab his ratty old shirt in his fists and just... revel in him. Revel in the feeling of finally being so fucking close, together again after so fucking long – too fucking long – and just stretch out the moment forever. Frank's hand settled on his ass, his thumb toying with the elastic of Gerard's underwear as he kissed him again. It was more than enough to make Gerard's head spin, all his blood rushing south at full tilt.

They were stripped back, raw, no toys or outfits or anything else. Just the two of them, their tongues exploring each others' mouths like it was the first time ever all over again. Making out like they were dumb kids stealing snippets of privacy whenever and wherever they could, endless backseats and bus bunks and truckstop bathrooms. Desperate. It felt like the van days, and if Gerard couldn't feel the luxury thread count in the ghost-white bedsheets he'd think history was repeating itself or something.

Maybe it was.

Frank squeezed Gerard's ass hard, digging in his fingernails, his thumb slipping under the waistband of Gerard's underwear. A soft whimper escaped Gerard's throat and he felt Frank smile against his mouth.

It was Gerard who pulled away first, breathless as he rolled his hips against Frank's, feeling their hard ons brush together as he moved. “Please, Daddy.”

With a low groan from the back of his throat, Frank rolled the both of them so Gerard was on his back, kind of awkward to make sure they didn't fall off the edge of the bed. Frank straddled those soft, pale thighs, one hand still resting with his thumb teasing Gerard's underwear, the other finding its way to tangle in Gerard's damp hair as he leaned down for another kiss.

Gerard's arm snaked around Frank's back and his other hand grabbed at the front of Frank's ratty old shirt, pulling them even closer together. He couldn't get close enough, even with Frank's tongue chasing his and nothing but a few thin layers of fabric at most between them.

“So fuckin' pretty, angelboy,” Frank whispered, moving to press wet, open-mouthed kisses to Gerard's collarbones as the pet name shot straight down his spine again. “Fucking... perfect.”

Frank sunk his teeth into the crook of Gerard's neck, almost like it was punctuation, eliciting some kind of yelp-moan from the back of his throat and a desperate grind from his hips. Gerard could feel Frank's smile as he swiped his tongue over the bite mark, soothing, and let his fingers slip just inside the elastic of Gerard's boxers.

“You sure this is okay?”

Gerard nodded, a shiver running through his whole body and goosebumps on his legs as Frank's fingers barely brushed his skin. So fucking close but still so far.

“Words, Gee,” Frank repeated.

Gerard's tongue darted out to wet his lips, breath shaky. “Please... just. Frankie.”

He felt the shudder run through Frank this time as familiar, calloused fingers finally – fucking finally – wrapped around his cock, and he couldn't stop the breathy gasp or the way his hips tried to roll into the touch. Not that he could really move, not with Frank's weight solid across his thighs. Pinned. Vulnerable. Safe.

Frank started moving down, the hand on Gerard's cock stroking slowly, almost too slowly. He started pressing a trail of kisses as he moved across the expanse of soft, pale flesh, his still-damp hair tickling Gerard's stomach as he moved, his free hand and shiny spots of drool trailing behind.

“What're you-”

“Shh,” Frank hushed, scooting down a little, briefly pinching Gerard's nipple and making him squeak and look down. Gerard could feel Frank laugh against his skin as he pressed sloppy kisses to his hips and thighs.

Gerard opened his mouth to speak again, but whatever words that had been in his head promptly flew out the window as he watched Frank take his cock into his mouth. He paused for a moment to tease the head with his tongue before taking Gerard's length as far as he could in one movement.

“Fuck!”

That'd been loud. A little too loud, maybe, but with Frank not even pausing before starting to move Gerard could really care less. His head dropped back, eyes pressed shut. Frank was so good, so god-fucking-damn good at sucking dick and he knew it, always had. But back in the day, Gerard having his dick sucked – by Frank, by anyone – was one of Frank's favorite rewards. It wasn't like, an everyday thing, it was a treat. Gerard could see the sly glint in his eyes when he forced himself to make eye contact, watching him take that little bit more every time his head moved down.

When Frank brought the hand not on Gerard's cock to tug his underwear further down his porcelain white thighs and play with his balls, Gerard couldn't stop the high-pitched moan he let out.

Frank pulled back for just a moment, just enough to flash Gerard a mischievous smile. “So fuckin' cute.”

Gerard let his head fall back on the pillow again, hands clutching at the soft, stark white sheets as his cock hit the back of Frank's throat, the slight gag sending another jolt through Gerard's entire body. Frank's weight on his legs kept him pinned, no matter how much his hips tried to move.

'Just like old fucking times.'

Without stopping Frank grabbed Gerard by the wrist, pulling his white-knuckled grip out of the blankets and bringing his hand to rest on Frank's head. Permission. Gerard's fingers tangled in the damp mess of his hair, and pulled, hard. Not in any attempt to take control, never - just so Frank could feel the sharp pull at his roots. He'd always liked when Gerard tugged on his hair, and it gave Gerard something to do with his hands that was more than holding onto the bedsheets.

Frank settled into a rhythm, his head bobbing up and down, a little sloppy just how he knew Gerard liked it. Gerard didn't even bother trying to hide the moans and breathless noises coming from the back of his throat. He needed more, but more than that he needed to savor it, every movement of Frank's tongue, the slight roughness of his fingers. Everything was so familiar, Frank had his every fucking weakness mapped out and so perfectly exploited by now, but somehow it almost felt like it was brand new all over again.

“Please,” Gerard whimpered, his eyes pressed shut and his grip on both Frank and the sheets tightening just that little bit more. “I... I need.”

Frank pulled back and chuckled lowly, moving his hands to rest on Gerard's hips, and Gerard would never, ever grow tired of seeing the contrast between the ink and white.

He'd never fucking take it for granted again either.

Before Frank could continue Gerard let go of the bedsheets and grabbed the collar of his shirt, tugging at it in a wordless plea for it to come off, for him to come closer. Frank rolled his eyes, smile across his lips, as he sat back on Gerard's legs and tugged it off, tossing it aside before moving to hover over him again.

“Need what, kitten?” Frank asked, pressing a soft kiss to Gerard's jaw.

Gerard swallowed hard, his breath shaky. So fucking long.

“I need. I n-need you to fuck me, D-Daddy,” he stuttered, looking up at Frank like he was the only thing that mattered, the only thing that existed, because in that moment, he was. “Please.”

Gerard felt the shudder run through Frank, felt the teeth at his throat before his mind caught up. Frank bit down fucking hard, hard enough to earn another pained yelp that was probably erring on the side of too-loud, right where he knew it'd make Gerard's whole body shake in response. It'd be a deep bruise by morning, with tiny darkened crescents in a perfect impression of Frank's teeth.

Fucking owned.

Frank pulled back, pressing a soft, wet kiss to the blooming bruise, catching Gerard's earlobe between his teeth just briefly, just enough to pinch. “You got lube?”

“Side p-pocket of the duffel,” Gerard whispered, tugging softly at Frank's hair for just a second before he started to move.

A sudden lack of Frank meant a sudden case of goosebumps as his weight and warmth disappeared, replaced by the cool air of the hotel room, still slightly humid from Gerard's scalding shower. It felt colder than it was and Gerard busied himself with getting his underwear off as Frank grabbed the lube from the bag under the desk.

There were so many new tattoos to learn, far more obvious now Frank was bent over and shirtless. He was a fucking work of art incarnate, a canvas filled line by line over so many years, from that stupid (perfect) scorpion paid for with scrounged up five dollar bills and quarters to the detailed portraits his younger self had only dreamed of ever affording. Gerard found himself wishing he could just sit there and stare at Frank like that forever – sweatpants so low they threatened to slip off his hips, the soft humming as he dug through the pockets of the bag, the way his ass looked so damn good in the worn-thin fabric. He was a mixed media piece of raw heart and soul wrapped in ink.

“Really, kitten?”

Gerard snapped out of the daydream he hadn't realized he'd slipped into. Frank had a shit-eating grin on his face, the lube in one hand, the other holding Gerard's favorite vibrator – that he totally fucking forgot about - by the base. It wasn't particularly small either, made from black silicone, and Frank was lucky he hadn't accidentally turned it on with the way he was holding it.

“I. Fuck. I. I just-”

“I'm being a dick, Gee, you're okay,” Frank laughed, dropping the toy back on top of the duffel and kicking off his sweatpants before making his way back to the bed. He nudged Gerard's legs apart with his free hand and settled between his bent knees. Gerard shuddered when Frank pressed more open-mouthed kisses along the inside of his thigh as he fumbled to get the lube open.

“Tell me if I go too fast,” Frank murmured, and Gerard couldn't help but squirm when he felt Frank's cold-slick fingers brush his skin.

“I won't – fuck!” Gerard began, his words cut off as Frank slid one finger inside him and he tensed at the sensation. Frank chuckled lowly, and Gerard let his head fall back on the pillow. “I won't break.”

“I know, not tonight anyway,” Frank said, pressing another kiss to Gerard's knee as a second finger joined the first, curling inside Gerard and drawing a desperate moan from his throat despite the stretch, his hands clutching at the bedsheets again. “I can't fucking wait to break you again, angelboy,” Frank breathed, smile made of pure sin dancing across his face.

Gerard could feel the flush in his cheeks as he grabbed at Frank's hair again, trying to pull him closer. He didn't move though, just pressed another kiss to Gerard's leg and moved his fingers just fucking right and Gerard stuck his lip between his teeth, biting back the noises he knew Frank was so determined to hear him make.

“Fucking.” Kiss. “Missed.” Kiss. “You.”

Gerard tugged at Frank's hair blindly, a low whine in his throat. “Please, Daddy.”

Then Frank's fingers were gone and the room felt colder again. Gerard heard the tell-tale clicking of the lube being opened and shut, and swallowed hard. This was it, now or fucking never. His eyes were still pressed shut when he heard the familiar, wet sound of Frank slicking up his cock.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Gerard felt Frank crawl back up the bed, felt him descend to hover over him, one hand on the pillow next to his head.

“Hey, you good, Gee?” Frank asked, tracing the line of Gerard's throat with the fingers of his free hand.

Gerard nodded before Frank had the chance to finish the question, let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. “I'm good. 'S just... it's been a while. And, y'know,” he gave a half-assed shrug. “A... a lot longer since it was us. Too f-fucking long.”

“I know,” Frank murmured, his thumb moving to brush Gerard's bottom lip. “If you don't want-”

Gerard shook his head, but still didn't open his eyes. “I want it,” he said, finality in his voice. Part of him was still screaming that all this – the build-up, the show, the drive back, this – was just some incredible lucid dream. He knew that wasn't possible, but it'd been so long, so fucking long since they'd been like this.

Frank's hand disappeared from the pillow briefly, and he grabbed at the soft flesh of Gerard's hips and thighs. Gerard hissed when he felt Frank's cock brush against his ass, wet and warm. The grip Frank had on his hips told him to move, change angles. There was an audible hitch in both their breaths when Gerard felt the head of Frank's cock pressed against his hole.

Frank came back to hover over Gerard, but this time was so much worse than the last when he could feel him right there, so, so fucking close. He felt Frank's fingers trace veins across his throat, the curves of his cheekbones.

“Look at me, Gee, ” Frank said, his voice low and sweet like molasses. Gerard took a deep breath and opened his eyes, greeted by wide brown ones and a smile of Frank's only he'd ever seen. It was definitely reality. “You gotta tell me if it hurts, alright? D'you remember the safeword?”

'Fucking of course, how could I ever forget?'

Gerard nodded. “Jersey.”

“Jersey what?” Frank asked, cocky attitude in his voice. His thumb was tracing Gerard's bottom lip again and he could feel Frank's dick right fucking there.

“Jersey, Daddy.”

Frank slipped two fingers into Gerard's mouth, and he immediately started working them over with his tongue. Zero hesitation, an automatic response, just like it always used to be. He didn't want to know what that meant, that it was still his first reaction to Frank's fingers in his mouth, even after so fucking long. It'd be an outright lie if he said he didn't love it though, the roughness of Frank's fingers was just really fucking nice against his tongue and teeth, and somehow, he always tasted good.

“Gotta stay quiet for me now, alright angelboy?” Frank breathed, pressing another kiss to Gerard's jaw. “Don't need any noise complaints.”

Gerard couldn't help the way he held his breath. He didn't mean to tense up and bite softly into Frank's fingers as his hips moved and he felt his cock slip inside, that initial stretch and burn still somehow so familiar and perfect.

“Breathe, Gee,” Frank murmured. Gerard was heavy on the exhale, hissing as Frank inched further in, his movements maddeningly slow.

Gerard's teeth dug into Frank's tattooed knuckles – sometimes he wished he could taste the ink - hard enough for Frank to huff out a slightly pained laugh. It was an adjustment as Frank slowly worked his way inside, and Gerard was internally screaming at his own body, willing himself to fucking relax. He couldn't deny the nerves were probably still getting to him, and definitely not helping. The vibrator in his bag was what he was most used to and it wasn't anatomically correct and was definitely smaller than Frank – a piece of silicone, no matter how nice or expensive, was completely different than a real, hot, thick cock.

Frank snapped his hips forward and finally bottomed out, sudden enough that Gerard really had to bite down in an effort to quieten the slightly pained moan from the back of his throat. He broke the eye contact, pressing his eyes shut and biting harder than he meant to. Frank's laugh quickly became a hiss, his fingers tensing but not pulling away.

Gerard looked up at Frank and made an attempt at some kind of mumbled apology around his fingers, running his tongue over the tiny crescents his teeth had made.

“Lemme know when you're ready,” Frank murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Gerard's forehead. He nodded, tongue still working over the fingers in his mouth. It took a minute, maybe two, that felt stretched out into five or ten with his eyes closed, for him to adjust, and he felt Frank's cock twitch inside him and couldn't hold back the shudder that ran straight up his spine.

“'M good,” Gerard mumbled around Frank's fingers, his breath catching in his throat as Frank started moving, slow and deliberate, dragging it out until Gerard let out a little huff around his fingers and wrapped his legs around Frank's waist.

Frank laughed softly, pressing another kiss high on Gerard's cheekbone before snapping his hips forward harder. The slight change in angle was fucking perfect, and Gerard's teeth closed around Frank's fingers again, shutting himself up as the head of Frank's cock hit his spot dead-on, smirk on his lips.

“So fuckin' cute, angelboy,” Frank breathed, picking up his pace as Gerard let tiny moans escape from the back of his throat, still muffled by Frank's fingers in his mouth. “I can't fucking wait,” he continued, pausing to bury his face in Gerard's neck, kissing the blooming bruise he'd left. “To have a fucking collar back around your neck.”

Gerard felt the shock that ran through his entire body at Frank's words, because fuck. If there was anything in their old stashes of sex toys that Gerard missed, beyond anything else, it was that collar. He missed every part of it. The weight of it around his neck was a physical reassurance, like having Frank's hand on his throat. He even missed the way it pinched his skin, on the rare times that happened, and the way it made his neck sweat in summer. There was the undeniable and almost sacred intimacy that came with the whole process - Frank carefully brushing his hair out of the way, the sound of the buckle being done, the tentative tug to make sure it wasn't too tight. The calm before the storms.

He fucking craved it all over again.

Gerard grabbed at Frank's hair again and his fingers left Gerard's mouth, leaving a faint trail of spit and settling on his throat instead. Their lips crashed together, clumsy and heated and making Frank stutter ever so slightly in his rhythm as Gerard's legs tightened around him.

“D'you want-”

“Don't ask,” Gerard interrupted, wrapping his fingers around Frank's wrist and squeezing, egging him on. “Just. Just do whatever you want. Like... like we used to.”

Frank's breath hitched, another slip in his rhythm. "Do whatever you want, who?” Frank teased, his hand tightening around Gerard's throat, thumb against his pulse.

Gerard swallowed again, voice wrecked, needy. “What... whatever you want, Daddy.”

Frank kissed him, all tongue and teeth and desperation as he picked up his pace, biting down hard on Gerard's bottom lip. It dragged him out of the breathless fog as Frank's grip relaxed, but his hand remained in place, like it was always meant to be there. It was always meant to be there.

“So fucking good for me, Gee,” Frank breathed, dropping to rest on his elbow, his hand tangling in Gerard's hair. “So fucking perfect.”

Gerard keened, arching up against Frank, dragging his bitten-down nails across his back, leaving faint trails of red that weaved through the spaces between all the ink. His bottom lip was between his teeth, a somewhat-vain attempt to keep quiet, just like Frank asked. It wasn't doing much though, not with Frank hitting Gerard's spot with every thrust, drawing short, sharp moans against Frank's longer ones.

“Gonna make it up to you, Gerard, promise,” Frank said, the hand around Gerard's throat cutting off his air again, and fuck.

Everything hit Gerard at once, the pang in his gut and the swell in his heart making him shake as he tightened his grip on Frank, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He could feel the tears, tried to blink them back, but the reality was hitting hard and fast. They were back, Frank was back, it wasn't some fucking trip or fever dream.

“Fucking love you, angelboy.”

Gerard's orgasm fucking blindsided him, coming with a desperate moan, almost too loud, as he threw his head back onto the plush pillow, come warm and sticky between them as Gerard's whole body shook.

“So fucking perfect.”

It took a second of blind fumbling for Gerard to find Frank's mouth again, tangling both hands in his hair and pulling him in for a bruising kiss. A shudder ran through Gerard, suddenly hypersensitive, and Frank was groaning into the kiss, his own grip tightening around Gerard's throat as he came, rhythm erratic as he filled him, riding it out.

Frank's movements came to a stop, cock deep inside Gerard's ass as he pressed their foreheads together, fingers tracing the line of Gerard's jaw as they caught their breath and the world came back. Just silent, a stray tear or two Frank swiped from Gerard's cheek with his thumb.

“Gee-”

“Happy tears,” Gerard interrupted, breathing starting to even out. “I promise.”

Frank smiled softly, pressing an almost-chaste kiss to Gerard's temple, another to his mouth. He swallowed hard and let out a heavy sigh as he pulled out, Gerard whimpering at the sudden cold and emptiness as Frank flopped back on the bed. He felt Frank's jizz pooling under him, a wet spot he'd have to deal with – gladly – as his own come dried on his stomach. There was no way in hell he was taking another shower tonight, he didn't care how gross that made him.

Gerard let his eyes fall closed, sinking into the softness of the pillow as he felt Frank's fingers drag through the drying streaks of come, laughing when Gerard twitched as it tickled. Frank nudged him with an elbow and he looked over, eyebrow raised, and a soft whimper escaped his lips again as Frank licked his fingers clean, smirk on his face.

Frank pressed another kiss to Gerard's cheek and got up off the bed, picking up Gerard's underwear from the floor and handing it over. He picked up Gerard's towel from near the desk, wiping the come off his stomach and tossing it in Gerard's direction - he cleaned himself off lazily, dumping the towel next to the bed and tugging his underwear back on.

They were equally graceless as Frank pulled on his sweats again, still slung teasingly low on his hips, and Gerard shoved back the covers and huddled down beneath the thick hotel quilt. Frank tossed him the shirt he'd been wearing, and Gerard felt the flush in his cheeks as he pulled it on without question – it smelled like Frank, felt soft and comforting against his skin.

As he joined Gerard under the covers Frank hit play on the remote, finally starting the movie Gerard had honestly forgotten about. The familiar soundtrack started, the wild drums as the newsroom descended into chaos on the screen, and Gerard let Frank pull him into the middle of the bed, arms wrapped tight around him, fingers laced together against Gerard's chest. They were tangled together, legs entwined, breathing falling into sync.

“You're so fuckin' perfect, Gerard,” Frank murmured against Gerard's shoulder, and he felt the blush hit his cheeks again. “You did so good tonight, with everything.” He kissed him through the shirt. “So proud of you, kitten.”

“'M proud of you too,” Gerard blinked back tears again, pressed a gentle kiss to Frank's fingers held between his own. “L-love you, Daddy Frankie,” he whispered against the tattooed skin, rough against his lips as he spoke.

“Love you too, Gee,” Frank murmured, nuzzling into Gerard's back as flesh started being torn to shreds and heads started exploding. “I ain't ever letting you go, angelboy.”