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Ray is focused on his game but he can’t help but be distracted by the flurry of movement that is Gerard, walking back and forth in front of the small bunks muttering to himself. He tries to focus on the screen but any time Gerard walks by again, it makes Ray unintentionally look up.
When he finally gives in and puts the PSP down to lean over the bunk and look at Gerard, he sees him digging into his little suitcase, dragging out shirts to smell them before making a face and putting them back in. Everything he takes out looks wrinkled and worn down and Ray can smell them all the way here, that signature Way stench that makes your nostrils burn.
“Ran out of shirts?” He asks, getting up and stretching his legs a little.
Gerard looks up, looking a little surprised to see Ray. “Yeah. Man, I don’t even know the last time I did laundry.”
“That’s because it was probably a year ago,” Ray replies, walking over to his own bag and taking out a clean t-shirt. He hands it to Gerard who takes it a little too gratefully.
“Thanks,” Gerard mumbles, scrunching the fabric up in his hands. “I don’t want to be disgusting. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Ray frowns. “You’re not disgusting,” he assures, leaning over to pet Gerard’s hair, greasy strands sliding all over his hand. “Tour life is just hard.”
“I guess…” Gerard replies, looking unconvinced. “Be honest, man. Do I really smell that bad?”
Ray watches Gerard lift an arm to sniff his own armpit, face screwing up in disgust when he gets a whiff. Ray can’t quite smell Gerard from where he is but he can imagine it. He winces a little.
“It gets bad sometimes,” he admits, “but it does for all of us. I think at this point people just make a big deal out of it because it became a thing, y’know?”
Gerard sighs. “Maybe I should shower.”
Ray makes a face. If the Way brothers weren’t so bad when it comes to hygiene, Ray would have been dubbed the disgusting one for sure. “You can just do it after the show,” he offers. “Since you’re gonna sweat anyway.”
Sometimes, thinking like that gets to a point where you’re putting off showers for a week straight, but it’s not like it’s back at home where you have the comfort that comes with having a shower. All you get is the chore instead, rushing through it while trying to clean your pubes, and Ray isn’t this bad with it off tour but on tour, he is a firm believer that they should all be allowed to be disgusting just a little.
“Okay, turn around then,” Gerard says, hands on the hem of his t-shirt, ready to take it off.
“I’ll close my eyes,” Ray replies, smiling just a little. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Gerard shirtless, it’s just that Gerard has a strict policy about being naked outside of sex, read: you’re not allowed to see him naked, period.
With his hands over his face, feeling a little ridiculous and also maybe like he should be saying something about how Gerard is convinced seeing his chest and belly outside of fucking will put Ray off, he gets a whiff of that smell when the t-shirt is off, landing on the floor with a soft sound.
He opens his mouth and tries to breathe through it instead, but he can’t help but breathe in a little deeper through his nose too, even though it makes his nostrils burn, the smell strong to the point of being disturbing.
Gerard doesn’t smell worse than any other guy who’s sweated a bunch, but there’s layers to it, new sweat on top of stale sweat all mixed in for a week now, and the way it clings to Gerard’s hair, especially in the armpits and his crotch.
Ray can’t help the way his body takes a little interest either. He’s maybe started associating a sweaty Gerard with getting his dick wet, like Pavlov’s dog, and now, getting a whiff means his body is gearing up for something that isn’t coming.
“Okay,” Gerard says, and when Ray opens his eyes again, Gerard is flushed the tiniest bit. “You know you’re not gonna be able to wear this again, right? My stench is gonna stink to it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ray mumbles, a little distracted by the way the t-shirt is both too big and too small on Gerard, loose on the arms but tight on the chest, sticking to his tits.
In a moment of bravery, Ray braces himself and leans forward, arms around Gerard as he buries his head right in Gerard’s armpit and inhales.
It’s a stupid decision. He can smell the fabric softener on his t-shirt, but overwhelmingly, underneath that, only Gerard, and what he describes as his stench. There is no other way to describe it other than sweat and musk, to the point where it feels like Ray might gag from it. Aside from it smelling bad, it smells so strongly that Ray is almost surprised by it, taking another whiff in the process as Gerard laughs real high, trying to push him away.
Ray goes stumbling back a little when Gerard succeeds, breathing in the stale air of the bus that still manages to smell fresher. It feels like the scent sticks to his nose and he almost goes to wipe it before he stops himself. His dick twitches inside his pants ridiculously, his body gearing up slowly, heat starting to pool in his belly, like his brain got the wrong message for sure.
“You’re insane,” Gerard says, grinning a little happy, a little embarrassed.
Ray just shrugs, trying to distract himself from the way he can still smell Gerard, only Gerard, and the way he is responding to it like the opposite of what he expected. He was ready to fight down a gag to convince Gerard he is not as disgusting as he thinks, and here he is, trying to fight down a whole boner instead, because the more he focuses on it, the more he just wants to bury his head back in there. Half of it is morbid curiosity. Half of it is definitely something else.
Gerard’s brows furrow, grin settling down as his gaze flicks between Ray’s eyes and his lips. “C’mon,” he says, getting up and offering a hand to Ray after, even though he stumbles each time Ray actually lets him pull him up. “Let’s go get breakfast while we can. And some cigarettes.”
“And coffee,” Ray replies, following Gerard outside.
*
Gerard is pure electricity on the stage that day, strutting from one corner to the other, head held high and hair plastered all over his face with sweat, wet strands whipping back and forth when he comes over to where Ray is to headbang, and his eyes dark each time he catches Ray’s gaze.
He’s wearing that one black shirt again, the one that has gone stiff with sweat and then softened back up, the collar all discoloured from make-up over the years, and Ray stares just the tiniest bit at Gerard’s armpits whenever he raises his arms, even though he can’t even make out a sweat stain at all in the dim light mixed in with the fabric being so dark.
Still. He finds himself thinking about it, over and over, and when he goes over to Gerard and leans over, putting his forehead on Gerard’s shoulder, there he can smell it, so fucking pungent like it’s being wafted towards his face as he inhales, and he has to shake his head to clear it when he walks away, feeling his eyes burn.
He can’t believe he is discovering something completely new like this. Arousal pools in his belly and as soon as he is out of smelling range, he craves going back again. It’s like pressing down on a bruise, there is something so addicting about it, like, even though Ray can say with one hundred percent honesty that Gerard smells fucking awful, it’s like Ray’s still being called over to him like a moth to flame.
A little deliriously, he thinks of those cartoon characters floating in the air towards the smell of pie, but it’s Ray, floating towards Gerard’s stench drawn in wiggly green lines over his body.
After the show, Gerard keeps looking over his shoulder at Ray as they both walk towards the bus with a singular focus, and Ray can tell Gerard knows something is up but doesn’t know what exactly. He watches the way sweat dries on Gerard’s body in real time, beading up on his collar before sinking into the fabric as his wet hair curls the tiniest bit at the ends from the humidity.
As soon as they close the door behind them, Ray flips them over, crowding Gerard against it and kissing him wetly all over his sweat slick face.
“Oh, Jesus,” Gerard breathes out, head going back and hitting the door with a small thunk. He licks into Ray’s mouth and then around it too, tongue pointed on the rim of Ray’s lips, following that line and making Ray almost shiver with it.
Ray digs his hands into Gerard’s love handles through the shirt and feels how wet Gerard is everywhere, damp wherever Ray ends up touching him. He pulls him closer and licks a line up from his chin to his eye, tasting only that sweat and smelling it too. It’s tangy against his tongue, and it makes him grimace, his eyes closing shut tight as he licks his lips, tasting his own sweat. His dick is filling out in his jeans and he grinds against Gerard, letting him feel it.
“Fucking, fuck—” Gerard says intelligently, biting at Ray’s throat and grinding back helplessly. “Did you get possessed?”
“Maybe,” Ray replies, trying to unbutton Gerard’s stupid shirt, telling himself that he is in no way allowed to rip the buttons off because Frank is the only one who’ll be able to sew them back on and Ray doesn’t want to see the smug look he will give them for weeks. “Fuck, c’mon…”
Gerard pushes him back a little, taking over with the buttons and undoing them with deft fingers all the while he is staring at Ray. Ray takes this opportunity to get rid of his own shirt, throwing it somewhere far away. Gerard’s eyes move appreciatively over Ray’s body, and his hands slow down a little as he gets distracted by his own staring.
Ray reaches over and kisses him some more as he untucks the shirt from Gerard’s pants, then lowering it down Gerard’s arms. While he is there, he can’t help but lean down a little, following the shirt’s path down Gerard’s shoulder with little kisses until he is at Gerard’s biceps.
It smells strong here, the scent, and Gerard leans a little back, body curling in on itself against the door. Ray follows with his head, and finally manages to bury his nose in that crease at Gerard’s armpit.
The first inhale makes his eyes burn, his nose protesting vehemently as he leans in even closer, trying to get more, and his dick fills out so fast that it makes him dizzy, like, one to a hundred in a second.
“What are you—” Gerard yells just a little, his hand clutching Ray’s hair and trying to pull him back. “Ray, that’s—fuck, seriously?”
Ray can’t be deterred. He uses his grip on Gerard’s hips to pull him in until Gerard’s back is arched, torso pushed up while he tries to lean back with his shoulders, giggling helplessly with an embarrassed tinge to it.
Gerard smells like battery acid and moldy pickles mixed in with a stale rag and something you find under your bed after it’s been there collecting dust for years. It’s a strong stink, enough to make Ray’s teeth clank together as he clenches his jaw shut, taking another sniff before he has to come up for fresh air, burying his head in Gerard’s neck and panting.
He can taste Gerard’s sweat against his mouth and he licks it, unable to stop himself from sucking on the pale skin. Gerard’s strangely quiet, petting Ray’s hair.
“You don’t have to do that, man,” he mumbles in the end, raising his head so Ray can suck wetly behind his ear.
“I know,” Ray replies, and his voice is shot. His whole face burns with some distant shame as he shifts his hips forward, letting Gerard feel just how hard he is. “I want to, though.”
“Fuck,” Gerard breathes out, giggling again. It still sounds unsure. “You… Seriously?”
Ray nods, grinding against Gerard as his breath hitches. He’s so fucking hard that he can feel himself leaking, his dick throbbing with each beat of his heart, this constant ache in his balls like they’ve been at it for hours and not just minutes.
“Get your pants off,” he says, but doesn’t even wait for Gerard to process it as he moves his hands to Gerard’s belt, unbuckling it. Looking down he can see Gerard’s hard too, straining against his skinny jeans, and it makes him whine, his hips rocking forward again.
“Fuck, this is…” Gerard looks a little helpless standing there as Ray gets down on his knees, peeling the jeans off of Gerard’s thighs. “I’m like, disgusting right now, dude.”
Ray doesn’t even care. Actually, he cares, but in the opposite way he should. “C’mon, c’mon,” he urges. He gets stuck on watching Gerard’s cock, trapped behind his boxers, fabric worn down and a bright red, some little holes in the waistband. Gerard’s dick looks obscene behind it, so hard to the point where Ray can make out every small detail.
Gerard toes off his shoes, stepping out of the jeans, and his shirt is still pooled around his elbows, like Gerard forgot it even was there.
Ray leans forward and finally gets his mouth on Gerard’s bulge, lips open and wet as he traces the outline.
Gerard moans, laughing a little. “Ray,” he says, a hand in Ray’s hair. “Oh my god, let me… I can just wash up—real quick.”
“No,” Ray replies, inhaling deeply. Gerard smells so strong here, all unwashed dick and sweat and musk. He smells like pure sex and Ray is so turned on that he can’t even think, just lick the fabric like he is trying to lick it off.
Gerard keeps making these noises, pulling on Ray’s hair and grinding forward as Ray sucks on the head through his boxers, trying to catalogue the smell inside his mind even though it’s impossible. He has smelled nothing like this before. Sparks keep shooting off his spine and he feels a little crazy as he reaches down and starts rubbing himself through his jeans, making noises like an animal.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Gerard keeps chanting, his voice choked off and breathless. When Ray looks up, all he can see is the underside of Gerard’s chin, his head thrown back, panting towards the ceiling. “Oh, fuck.”
“Gonna blow you,” Ray promises, reaching up to tug Gerard’s boxers down and letting them pool on the floor. Gerard’s cock bobs up, flushed a pretty pink at the tip and looking dark and huge next to his pale thighs and belly. “Fuck yes.”
“This is crazy,” Gerard says, all high pitched. He’s looking down now, his grip tight on Ray’s hair and pulling him back with force. “Dude, you… It’s… Seriously?”
Ray’s face is so hot that sweat is beading up on his forehead, his upper lip, and he nods, making eye contact as he leans forward again. Gerard lets him this time, his eyes huge and dark as he watches Ray grab him from the base and lift up so he can get his mouth on Gerard’s balls.
The eye contact is broken as Gerard’s head goes back again, his hips kicking forward when Ray sucks on one testicle before moving to the other, Gerard’s trimmed pubes against his lips. It tastes like sweat, balls, and ass. It tastes somehow better than it even smells.
“Oh, god,” Ray breathes out, following the line of Gerard’s cock with his nose, his tongue licking all the way up to the head before he takes it into his mouth, swallowing it down and sucking. “Mhhm—”
Gerard’s hand is still pulling on Ray’s hair, a distant sharp pain, and his other hand is clenching down pretty hard on Ray’s shoulder as his thighs tremble. Ray rubs down on his dick and he is so close to creaming his pants that it’s not even funny.
He bobs his head down, swallowing and slurping the saliva pooling in his mouth, so much more than normal like he is close to throwing up. The little bit that trickles out of his mouth pools on Gerard’s pubes, his balls, leaving them all shiny and sticky.
He keeps going, shifting his head from side to side when Gerard bumps against his throat, and he swallows with difficulty, trying to get more, so he can bury his nose in Gerard’s pubes.
“You’re crazy,” Gerard whines, his hips shifting forward to contradict his words. “Fuck, Ray, you’re insane—ah, ah, yes, yes—”
When Ray finally succeeds in burying Gerard down his throat, so big inside his mouth like it shouldn’t even fit in there, all this throbbing warmth and hard as a rock, he inhales deeply from his nose. All he can smell and taste is Gerard, that disgusting musk scent, and it makes him dizzy.
He whines again, his eyes slipping shut completely as he just stays there, not letting Gerard slip out an inch as he slurps on his cock, inhaling his dick stink. His back is arched, his cock throbbing like he might cum any second now, any second and he’s there, his thighs so tense that it feels like he is vibrating in place.
“Please,” Gerard mumbles, hands urging Ray this way and that, “please, please, fuck.”
Ray pulls back, sucking on the head as he strokes the shaft, and Gerard keens, his hand running down to Ray’s face so he can feel himself through Ray’s sucked in cheeks.
“Gonna,” Gerard chokes out, and precum spills on Ray’s mouth, such a different taste than Gerard’s cock, almost sweet in comparison like sugar water. “Ray, I’m gonna—gonna—”
Ray pulls off with a pop sound, watching Gerard’s cock bob up, spit slick and shiny, and some thick saliva hangs in a thread between Ray’s lip and the tip before it breaks off, falling down wetly on Gerard’s thigh.
“Oh, fucker!” Gerard groans, shaking his head.
“Turn around,” Ray says, but his voice comes out completely silent so he has to clear his throat and try again. “Turn around, Gee, please, c’mon.”
Gerard’s eyes manage to go wider as he gapes at Ray, mouth wide open. “No,” he says, a gut instinct. “I mean. You…”
“Don’t ask me if I’m serious again,” Ray half begs, urging Gerard to turn around by grabbing him by the hips and pushing.
Gerard resists, planting his feet and looking at Ray like this is the most unbelievable thing to ever happen to him. “No fucking way,” he breathes out. A beat where Ray can’t take it anymore, unbuttoning his jeans and not even bothering with the zipper as he shifts in place just until he can get his dick out, moaning with it as he almost bites a hole in his tongue from how good it feels. “Oh my god.”
Ray bites Gerard’s thigh, the inner part, hard enough to hurt, and Gerard jumps in place, yelping. “Wanna eat you out so bad, Gee,” Ray says, stroking his cock shallowly because if he touches with even a sliver of intent, he’s going to cum his brains out. “C’mon, c’mon, just let me.”
Gerard gasps, shaking his head in disbelief. A beat. “Okay,” Gerard says in reply. “Fucking. Okay. Fuck.”
And he finally turns around. Ray’s hands move instantly, settling on Gerard’s ass to grope and squeeze the pale flesh, listening to the way Gerard sighs, his own hands up on the wall for balance as he arches his back and sticks his ass out. Ray’s dick complains about the lack of attention, aching distractingly, but Ray can’t even care.
He separates the cheeks, and Gerard’s body is so tense under his hands that he wants to say something to help but it’s like he is a man possessed as he leans forward and licks the pink furl of muscle, circling around it.
“Je-sus,” Gerard breathes out, shuddering. “You’re… I can’t…”
Ray almost laughs but he’s too busy relaxing his tongue and licking over and over. He’s eaten Gerard out before but that was all after they took a shower. He’s surprised that it doesn’t make much of a difference to him.
Gerard does taste a little different, more musky, the sweat tangy on Ray’s tongue and making his mouth water, but he also tastes the same inside, when Ray licks in, making Gerard get up on his tippy toes and then fall back down, keening.
Ray keeps licking all easy like that until Gerard stops tensing up, relaxing like he might fall down as his hole opens up around Ray’s tongue, finally letting him in when he flexes it and points it inside, pushing.
“This is so—so fucking hot, oh my god,” Gerard is babbling, his shoulders shaking as he jerks himself off desperately. “Ray, oh, please, please, I can’t—”
Ray thrusts his tongue in and out, his hands so tight on Gerard’s ass that he is sure to leave bruises, and his mind is so focused on this one thing that his own cock aching for release feels like a distant echo. All he can hear and smell and taste is Gerard and it’s making him lose his mind as he eats Gerard out like a man starved, licking in so much that he’s fucking Gerard with his tongue.
“Yes, yes, god, yes,” Gerard is chanting. “I’m gonna… gonna cum—please, oh, like that, yes, yes—”
Then he tenses on Ray’s tongue and shivers from top to bottom, gasping and babbling breathlessly as his body rocks forward and back, fucking into his fist while trying to ride Ray’s tongue.
Ray eats him out until he goes quiet, thighs trembling and knees weak as his body curls forward, head hanging low between his shoulders.
When he pulls back, Gerard collapses down onto the floor, turning around and getting stuck in his own shirt a little as he lunges forward, pushing Ray down and climbing on top of him so he can lick into Ray’s mouth.
“Gee,” Ray mumbles against his lips, trying to get a hand on his dick because it’s not gonna take anything, he is so close already, “fuck, c’mon, c’mon—”
Gerard reaches down, grabbing Ray’s cock and stroking, so wet because Ray’s been leaking like a faucet, and all the while he is staring down at Ray with this look in his eyes, like awe and pure adoration, his pupils still blown and his eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah, yeah, c’mon,” Gerard urges, his hand wet with his own cum as he jerks Ray off, “come for me, wanna lick it, wanna eat it, Ray, so bad—”
Ray’s body arches off the floor as heat travels through his balls to the tip of his cock, and he is coming, like that, and he can’t even think as he cries out, his eyes squeezed shut even though he can still see Gerard behind his eyelids, like an imprint. He’s babbling something as Gerard milks him through it but he doesn’t fucking know what, and his balls throb like he is going to come for days as he shudders and shudders, feeling like he is falling to pieces.
It leaves him all strung out after, weak and body achy, especially his knees, and his ankle where he is sure he pulled a muscle because he was kicking around while Gerard jerked him off. When he finally opens his eyes, eyelashes a little wet, Gerard’s watching him.
His hand is wet, cum sliding down his fingers and in between them, sticking to his palm, and as soon as Ray is looking, he puts it up to his mouth and starts licking each single digit, cleaning them up and letting spit shine them instead.
Ray’s head goes back as he groans, feeling the heat in his belly roar. “Jesus… Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Gerard says, laying down beside Ray and holding his hand up to the light, so they can watch his spit drool down from his palm to his wrist. “Fucking… Crazy.”
What’s crazy is that Ray still has his pants on, and Gerard still has his shirt on his elbows like a little cardigan, his boxers hanging off of one foot, and the door isn’t even locked.
Ray looks down at his spent cock for a second before he tucks himself back in, so if anybody makes the mistake of walking in, it will only be Gerard getting traumatized for life.
“So, like,” Gerard starts, because of course he has questions. “That’s a thing?”
Ray shrugs, feeling his face go hot stupidly, like he didn’t just suck off and then eat out Gerard, like he needs to be blushing about shit like this. “I guess.”
Gerard grins a little. “Fucker! And I was convinced I was gonna gross you out one day. I washed myself with a hose behind the van before our first date.”
By their first date, Gerard means the time Ray took him out into the woods and they both ate sandwiches crouched on the floor but not sat down because there were a million bugs climbing up on them, and watched the stars, way back in 2002. Then Gerard had climbed on top of Ray and made out with him for what felt like hours, the bugs all forgotten.
“This is not an incentive to stop washing,” Ray jokes, pulling Gerard into his chest when he predictably pouts.
“I wash,” Gerard complains. “Was gonna, today. Before you ambushed me.”
“Ulterior motives,” Ray explains. “If we can claim the restroom real late at night, we can wash each other’s backs.”
Gerard honks out a laugh, his body shaking in Ray’s hold. Ray knows he is smiling stupidly but he can’t even stop himself. “Wash each other’s backs,” Gerard parrots, giggling. “Fuck. Yeah, sure, man.”
Ray hums, content for the time being. And he’s thinking, after the shower, he can lick Gerard all over while he is clean this time. To compare, for scientific reasons, and no ulterior motives at all.