Archive of Our Own

“I have a big, big favour to ask you, but if you say no, I need you to promise to never fucking tell anyone.” 

Frank’s immediate instinct was to laugh,but Gerard’s expression was dead serious. 

“What is it?” 

“You’ll be sworn to secrecy,” Gerard reiterated. “Seriously, I am putting my life in your hands.” 

So dramatic. 

“You know I’m not a tattle tale,” Frank said. 

It’s true – he’s kept his mouth shut about a few Gerard-related oddities. Like when Gerard cut his balls and begged Frank to look because he was convinced he was going to bleed out. Or when he called Frank hammered in the middle of the night because he’d gotten himself locked in the storage room at Frank and Mikey’s apartment. 

“Please don’t tell Mikey,” he’d whispered. “I was here to steal from him.” 

There really wasn’t a reason why he kept Gerard’s secrets, other than because Gee asked him to. 

But Gerard was being really shifty now, his face flushed as he bounced back and forth between his feet. “It’s kind of… freaky,” he said. 

“Whatever you’re going to say, is it appropriate to tell me at the Staples copy counter?” Frank asked. 

Gerard thought about it for a moment. “Definitely not,” he admitted. 

Frank sighed. The end of his shift was coming and he was burning out hard. He always smoked a joint on the walk to work, but on an eight hour shift, it just wiped him out by the end of the day. 

“I’m done in 40 minutes,” he said. “Can you hang around the plaza?” 

There was a Michaels a couple stores down, so Frank knew the answer was yes. 

“Yes.” 

He watched Gerard lurch out of the store, wearing that big black leather jacket that made him look kind of like a total scumbag, and wondered if he could convince Gerard to drive him home when his shift was over. And if he could get him to stop at the drive thru. 

Depending on whatever favour he was going to ask, maybe he could get him to pay, too. 

The store was pretty much dead over the holidays, especially for the copy counter, so Frank ended up making photo copies of himself giving the middle finger, then sat on the counter shooting the shit with the 17-year-old girl who was technically his boss. 

By the time Gerard came stalking back into the store, it was starting to snow and getting dark. 

He took a couple minutes to show Frank and his co-worker some of the pens he bought, because despite the scum bag jacket and brooding black dye job, Gerard was a sweetie-pie who loved to describe art supplies to anyone who would pause long enough to listen.

Frank left him with Taylor the Teenage Store Manager while he grabbed his coat and bag from the back, then dragged Gerard back out into the gathering snow. 

“Okay, so the favour — ”

Frank was making a beeline for Gerard’s car. “You’re driving me home, right?”  

Gerard cleared his throat. “The favour involves coming over to my place.” 

His place was a smoky basement apartment in the neighbourhood they both grew up in, under his Grandma’s apartment. They negotiated that Gerard would give him a ride back across town, to his apartment with Mikey, when they were done whatever mysterious task he still hadn’t just spit out. 

And Gerard would buy him McDonalds. 

Frank sparked up a joint as soon as they pulled on to the main road, Gerard rolling both their windows down despite the cold and snow, while Frank got himself nice and post-work baked. 

Perfect. 

He really couldn’t fathom what Gerard wanted, and when he started stuffing his face, he kind of forgot to care. Gerard wasn’t acting weird or anything either, just blabbing on about some Christmas movie he hated while he rolled every stop sign in Belleville and mashed fries into his mouth. 

He didn’t start acting nervous again until Gerard was unlocking the door at the bottom of the basement stairs, and suddenly Frank started picking up a Hansel and Gretel vibe, like maybe he’d been lured there with a Big Mac. 

Gerard’s place was surprisingly clean. A couple coffee cups in the sink, a few art supplies spread out on the table, but no food filth or overflowing ash trays. 

Frank kicked off his shoes and padded over to the wood-paneled living room, dropping down onto the couch and patting his pockets for the mint tin where he kept his joints. 

“Alright,” he said. “Hit me. What is it this time?” 

Gerard was still in the kitchen, out of his jacket now and looking kind of small and awkward. “You won’t tell anyone,” he said again, “if you don’t want to do it.” 

Frank mimed zipping his lips, locking it, and throwing away the key. Then he unzipped his lips to shove the cardboard end of his joint in his mouth and grabbed at the barbecue lighter on Gerard’s coffee table. 

“I promise,” he said, muffled as he kept his lips closed around the filter. 

Gerard came into the living room and snapped the light in the corner on, making the whole place feel a little warmer and more welcoming. Frank took a long draw off his joint and held it out to Gerard. He surprisingly took it. 

Gee was a chain cigarette smoker, but sometimes when he smoked weed, his anxiety shot through the roof and he ended up subjecting everyone to his nervous ramblings about… well, everything. 

He took the tiniest hit, blowing it out fast through his nose, then gave it back to Frank. 

“Okay,” Gerard said. “So I’ve been scamming this guy online for a couple months.”

Whatever Frank thought Gee was going to say, it definitely wasn’t that, and he choked on a lungful of pot smoke and started laughing hard. 

“You what?!” 

Gerard loosened up a little, laughing a bit himself. “It’s harmless! Mostly. I was on this fetish website a couple months ago and I saw an opportunity.” 

Fetish website? Frank’s stomach did a little flip flop. 

When Gerard got onto the fetish topic, Frank didn’t always know how to react. Part of him wanted to beg Gerard to shut up and not tell him anything, because a bigger part of him wanted to hear everything. 

Even the real freak shit Frank had no actual interest in. Like the puking stuff. 

“It’s about being vulnerable,” Gerard had explained on a hot summer night months ago. “I don’t want to, like, drink puke or whatever. But when I see someone throw up the thought of taking care of them gets me hard.” 

And Frank, a known frequent puker, had let the other guys bust Gerard’s balls because he didn’t trust himself to say anything. 

Was Frank attracted to Gerard? 

Definitely, but he didn’t know what that meant for him in the grand scheme of things, so it was easier to just not think about it too hard. 

“Anyway, this guy has been paying me to cum on my stomach and send him pictures,” Gerard said. “But I’ve been upping the ante to get him to pay me more.” 

The words were going in one of Frank’s ears and out the other. What the fuck was Gerard even saying? 

“So I told him I would get a friend to cum on my face for $1,000, then I sent him a picture of me with moisturizer on my face, but he totally called me out on it,” Gee was saying. “He won’t give me the money unless I send him a video and show him it’s real. That’s a total rip, you know? But he’s right, I was scamming him.”

Frank didn’t realize his mouth was hanging open until he started choking on his own dry throat. He sat up and stubbed the joint out on the pasta jar lid Gerard kept on the table as an ashtray, struggling to breathe. He shoved the straw of his Coke into his mouth, suddenly unable to look at his friend. 

“Gerard, what?!” he gasped. 

Gerard groaned, dropping his head into one of his big hands. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Please don’t tell anyone?”

Frank’s face was fucking burning, but so were his guts. Was Gee seriously asking…? He couldn’t even think of it. 

But his mind started filling in the blanks for him, of Gerard snapping photos of his own stomach covered in cum. He bet he got really flushed when he finished, like how dark liquor made his cheeks red and his eyes shine. 

“Oh my God,” Frank whispered. 

He was too high for this. His skin felt sensitive and his brain was struggling to school his reactions into whatever was appropriate after your friend asks you to cum on their face. 

“Frank, please don’t tell Mikey,” Gerard was begging him. “Dude, I shouldn’t have even told you. It’s too weird. I just really needed the money.” 

Well… 

Frank finally looked at him. 

Gerard’s face was pale and a little sweaty, partially from the weed anxiety, Frank figured. He’d knotted his hands together till his knuckles went white, and he was leaning forward, eyes so big and pleading. 

Frank thought of those big, pleading eyes looking up at him while he stroked his fucking —

“Oh my God,” Frank said again. 

His dick was getting hard. He could feel a flush creeping up his own neck and his mouth getting cotton-y. Frank shoved the straw of his drink back in his mouth and chugged until he was just sucking the air between the ice cubes. 

“I’m sorry for asking,” Gerard said. “That was fucked up of me. I would have given you half of the money. But yeah, that’s fucked. I’m sorry.”

Frank took a deep breath. Fuck, he was cooked. 

Gerard brought me back here to cum on his face, he kept thinking. He’s offering me $500 to cum on his face. 

“Why, uh,” Frank started. “Why me?” 

Gerard screwed his mouth up a little, thinking. “You’ve helped me out before,” he said. Then, maybe because that seemed like a lame reason, he quietly added, “And, y’know, you’re not a tattle tale…” 

“Oh,” Frank said softly. “Um, okay.” 

A little disappointed that the answer wasn’t “because I’m soooo horny for you Frank”, but whatever. 

Gerard shifted in his chair, looking somewhere left of Frank’s face. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I knew it would be weird to ask. I don’t know why I went through with it.”

Frank swallowed thickly. He was openly staring at Gerard’s face. God, he was pretty. He had such nice skin and beautiful eyes. Frank thought about last Halloween, when Gerard dressed like a chick and a bunch of the guys got weird around him, like he was calling everyone’s sexuality into question. And how by the end of the night, he was so wasted all the make up ran down his cheeks…

“Fuck,” Frank gasped. 

Suddenly Gerard’s eyes were locked on his face. Frank knew how he must look, breathing heavy, his own eyes glazed and his lips parted, hunched over on himself just enough to hide that his cock was fucking hard, but the hunch itself kind of gave him away. 

Fuck it. 

“Have you ever…” Frank’s brain stopped the words and he had to give himself a little shove to get the thought out. “Have you ever fucked another guy?” 

Something shifted in Gerard then. 

The anxious energy seemed to ease. He licked his lips, making them shine a little, and leaned back in the chair. 

“I’ve sucked cock before,” he said. “Have you?” 

Frank felt embarrassment creeping up on him but the way Gee was looking at him…

“No,” he said. “Never.” 

An awkward silence filled the room. 

Gerard was so far away. Maybe he needed to be because Frank wanted him in his lap, wanted to push Gerard’s head down against the bulge in his jeans. 

This was crazy. 

Finally, ears burning with shame, Frank said, “And I get $500?” 

“Yeah,” Gerard almost whispered. 

Frank’s throat made a little nervous noise against his will. He cleared the sound away, meeting Gerard’s heavy gaze with what he hoped looked like professional resolve. 

“I could really use that $500.” 

Amps and pedals weren’t cheap. And he still needed to get his mom something for Christmas. 

Gerard’s face broke out into a wicked little grin. “Alright,” he said. “Follow me.” 

Frank felt like his ghost was leaving his body the whole way into Gerard’s bedroom. 

He’d been in here before too, not often or for long, but it was surprisingly tidy for Gerard. Probably because he was planning on filming. 

Holy fucking shit. 

He stood in the middle of the room, boiling in his hoodie and Staples uniform, while he watched Gerard strip off his own sweater and fuss around with a digital camcorder. 

“I can put the video right on my computer,” he said cheerily. “No tape!” 

“You should bring that to one of my shows,” Frank said. It felt like someone else was speaking with his mouth. “That’s cool, Gee.” 

Gerard turned his head and threw him a grin. Frank was down to a semi now, and the nerves were kicking in. 

What if he couldn’t get hard? What if this ended up being one of the most embarrassing moments of his life? 

For some reason, he thought of omertà, the mafia code of silence, and a snort ripped through his nose. 

Gerard looked back at him again, puzzled but amused. 

“What’s so funny?” 

Frank bit at his lip ring. “You’re not going to tell anyone about this, right? We have, like, a pact of silence?” 

Gerard turned around with the camcorder wrapped around his hand. The blue light from the screen made him look ghostly, his white t-shirt only making him all the more pale. 

“I wouldn’t tell a soul,” he said seriously. “This is between us.” 

Frank sucked the ring into his mouth again, hands toying with the hem of his sweater. “Okay, cool,” he said. “So… how are we doing this?” 

God, he hoped Gee had a plan. 

“Okay, you film from above. I’ll get on my knees. And just, like, jerk off onto my face?” 

Frank felt like he’d been punched in the guts. He fought desperately to sound normal. 

“I’m filming the whole time? And, like, doing it over your face the whole time? Or just when I’m… close?” 

Gerard bit his lip. 

“It’s probably better if you… do it the whole time,” he said. 

Frank took a shaky breath and then peeled off his sweater, leaving him in his red Staples polo. “Okay,” he said, and held his hand out for the camcorder. 

Gerard stepped a little closer, almost into his personal space, and pressed the camera into his hand. “Do a test recording,” he said. 

Frank’s hands were starting to shake. He hoped Gerard didn’t notice. He slid the strap around his right hand and immediately knew this wasn’t going to work. 

He needed that hand. To… uh….

But instead he pressed record and trained the camera on Gerard’s face. The light was low in his room and his eyes glinted darkly, lips looked even more pink through the camera. 

“Lookin’ good,” Frank said. 

Gerard batted his eyelashes, then smacked his hand over the lens. “Alright, alright,” he said. 

He stopped the recording. 

When they played it back, Frank felt struck with how fucking nervous he sounded and how… hungry Gerard looked. 

Frank dragged his gaze up from the screen, but Gerard was looking down at the floor. “The lighting's probably best if I face the desk,” he said. “And you can lean against it.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Frank said. He got into position. “Do you mind if I, um, take off my shirt?” 

Gerard nodded, still not looking at Frank. 

“I just don’t want to, like, get anything on it,” he said. 

Gerard took a shaky breath. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. 

Frank set the camera down, slowly pulled his work shirt over his head and tossed it on the bed. Gerard’s room was hot, stuffy almost, and Frank felt a little sweaty. 

He looked down at himself, his slender chest, the smattering of dark tattoos, the still visible tan lines on his arms, where olive skin gave way to the pale skin of his torso. 

Gerard was looking at him. At his chest. 

Frank took his shirt off in front of people all the time, he never really thought much of it. Now, he felt totally exposed. 

And he hadn’t even whipped his dick out yet. Oh god. 

“Okay,” Frank said into the heavy silence between them. “You can… Can you get on your knees?” 

Gerard dropped like a marionette with its strings cut. The thud against the floor was loud and painful sounding, enough that Frank winced. 

He instinctively reached out and put his hand on Gerard, on his shoulder, and squeezed. “Are you okay?” 

Gerard nodded and then he was looking up at Frank, and Frank knew he was fucked. 

His dark hair framing his face, the light in his big eyes almost glowing… He looked so innocent, soft and baby faced and —

“So pretty,” Frank mumbled. 

Gerard’s eyes fluttered shut. He shuffled closer on his knees until Frank could feel his breath on his lower stomach. This was so fucked up. Frank was starting to realize he probably wouldn’t have a problem with getting hard at least. He could see himself starting to strain against the front of his work slacks. 

He wanted to touch Gerard’s face. Wanted to lean down and kiss him. But he was frozen. 

“The camera,” Gerard said quietly. 

Oh yeah. Oh fuck. Oh Jesus fucking Christ. 

He fumbled with the camera, a knot forming in the pit of his guts. He pointed it down, wanting to groan when he saw the little screen show him what was happening in front of his own eyes. 

Gee on his knees, looking up through those long dark eyelashes, bottom lip caught in his teeth, face a couple inches from the bulge in Frank’s pants. 

He pressed record. 

“Okay, it’s going,” he said. 

Frank knew he had to figure out how to get his pants off now using his non-dominant hand while keeping the camera steady. 

“Just focus on recording,” Gerard said, like he was reading his mind. 

Then Gerard’s hands were at his pink belt, the one his boss was always bitching at him for wearing, and fingers were pulling it open and popping the button on his fly. 

“Okay,” Frank said, with a shaky breath. 

He bit his lip, realizing the weird guy getting this video was going to hear everything he said. 

Gerard pulled down his fly and then tugged at the legs, letting them fall and pool around Frank’s ankles. 

He was left in a pair of tight grey boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his half hard dick. He was sure the camera was picking up his near hyperventilating breaths, the way his throat kept clicking when he swallowed. 

Frank was watching all of this through the camera and that was only making it feel more intense, a layer of sleaze on top of watching his friend pull down his pants on his fucking knees. 

“Oh my God, Gee,” he said and his voice was so husky. 

Gerard smiled up at him through the camera and Frank watched his cock jump in his boxers.  He kept his arms steady but closed his eyes, gathering himself for a second. 

“Can I touch you?” Gerard asked. 

“Yeah. Please.”

He thought Gerard was going to pull him out of his underwear or something but instead, he opened his eyes and watched his friend rub his cheek up against his cock through his underwear. 

Frank’s voice cracked with a moan. 

“Dude,” he whispered. 

Gerard just nuzzled him, eyes closing a little, then turned his head and kissed Frank’s dick through his underwear. 

Frank hissed in a breath. His arm dropped a little with the camera but kept it even, while his other hand slid into Gerard’s hair, drawing out a sweet little moan from him. 

“That’s so hot,” Frank said. 

He pushed Gerard’s hair back from his face while he kept kissing him through his underwear, until the kisses got slower and longer and wetter and he was sucking him through the fabric, the camera picking up his dark and wet his spit was making Frank. 

“Fuck.” 

Frank’s hand slid from his hair to his face, hooking his fingers under his jaw and making him look back up at the camera. 

Frank was still watching him through the little screen, knowing he probably looked like a slack jawed idiot with 10 chins from this angle. 

He pressed his thumb against Gerard’s lips, moaning when it slipped into his mouth and ran over the tip of his tongue. 

Gerard whimpered, a noise that made Frank’s knees want to buckle, and started sucking his thumb into his mouth. 

“Good boy,” Frank heard himself say. 

Where was this coming from? 

It was the right thing to say though because Gerard moaned again and took the digit deeper. Frank pulled his thumb out and replaced it with two fingers, pressing on Gerard’s tongue as he immediately started deep throating them. 

“Oh fuck,” Frank whispered. 

The wet sucking sound filled the room and Frank could feel himself starting to leak, his dick almost throbbing at the need to have that sweet, wet, soft feeling around his cock. 

“You look so pretty,” he said again, and Gerard opened his eyes, looking back up into the camera. 

Frank pulled his fingers out of his mouth, glistening wet now, and grabbed Gerard’s face. Not hard or rough or anything, but… possessive. 

Gerard leaned into the touch. 

“Are you gonna suck me off?” Frank asked. 

It was an honest question but it came out sounding kind of condescending and… depraved. 

Gerard’s eyes fluttered shut again and Frank felt him shiver. “Yeah,” he said, voice already sounding so rough and fucked. 

Frank ran his thumb along Gerard’s wet bottom lip then pulled it down, showing his bottom teeth. He didn’t know why he was doing it, just wanted to play with him a little. 

He let go of Gerard’s face then. “Okay, get to work,” he said. 

Gerard groaned and pressed his face back into Frank’s crotch, kissing him through his underwear again as his fingers slid under the waistband. He looked back up at the camera as he pulled them down and Frank sprung free. 

“Fuck,” Gerard hissed. “You’re so hard, dude.” 

His hand wrapped around Frank easily, and he gave his cock a couple slow pumps, thumb swiping over the head to spread the wetness down over him. 

He kissed the tip very politely before he put it in his mouth. 

Frank almost dropped the camera. “Shit,” he hissed. His arm was getting sore from holding it and he had to stretch for a second, probably throwing the whole video into a confusing scramble. 

But Gerard didn’t seem to notice. Or care what was happening to the recording. He was sucking Frank’s cock, moaning on it, cheeks hollowing out. 

Frank got the camera trained back on him and got his hand buried back in his hair as Gerard really started choking him down. 

“Fuck!” Frank half-shouted. 

It was wet and messy and noisy and Gerard kept pushing himself until he gagged on it. Fucking obscene is what it was, and Gerard had tears pooling in his eyes in no time. 

Frank knew he was being loud and that it was all being permanently recorded, that at some point someone was going to watch this and hear how pathetic he sounded, mewling like a lost kitten while Gerard gave him head, and that just made it worse. 

He had sweat beading on his upper lip and pooling on his lower back. He could feel his balls drawing up, his sock covered toes curling against the hard wood.  

“Gee, Gee, hold up,” he choked out. 

Gerard pulled off, mouth so red and wet, staring up at him like a church painting of a martyred saint. 

“My… my arms are shaking, dude. I have to…”

He put the camera down, still recording, and twisted the screen around. Gerard looked at himself in the little screen, blinking for a second at how fucked he looked. 

“Oh,” he said. 

And then he watched Frank dig his fingers into his hair again, watched his face be pulled back into Frank’s crotch. Frank looked lean and hung in the little LED screen, the veins in his hands standing out, swallow tattoos stark against his skin. 

Gerard watched himself kiss Frank’s hip, the skin next to his cock, as Frank used his hair to drag him back to where he belonged. 

“Open,” he said, and Gerard did as he was told. 

He guided him down all the way, Frank watching Gerard, Gerard watching himself, moaning so fucking loud now. 

He pressed the heel of his hand into his own cock and Frank noticed for the first time he could see how hard Gerard was in his sweatpants. 

As Gerard started to gag on him, spit dribbling over his chin and onto his shirt, Frank used his foot to nudge Gerard’s hand off himself and covered his cock with his foot. 

Gerard’s eyes rolled so hard in his head he looked possessed, as his hips jerked up helplessly against the bottom of Frank’s foot. 

Okay, so they were crossing into a new, forbidden territory every five minutes. Frank was just holding on for the ride. 

“Not too much,” Frank cooed. “Not until I cum on your pretty face, right?” 

The noise Gerard made was almost pathetic. He tore his eyes away from the camera screen and when he saw Frank looming over him, a sadistic grin on his sweet, boy next door face, Frank felt his whole cock jump. 

“Come on,” Frank said, tugging at his hair. “Make me cum.” 

Gerard pulled off, gasping for air. “Yes sir,” he whispered. 

Frank groaned, fingers tightening in Gerard’s hair. “Holy fuck, Gee,” he gasped. 

Then he was pulling Gerard back down, letting him get used to having Frank in his mouth again before he started thrusting a little. Gerard moaned again, humping up against Frank’s sock, and Frank let his hips snap forward a couple times. 

“You want me to fuck your face?” 

Gerard’s “Mhm” was garbled. 

“Good boy, good, good boy,” Frank half-growled. 

What the fuck was he even saying? Whatever. He started sinking Gerard’s head down by his hairs while his hips pushing his cock closer and closer to the back of his throat with each thrust. 

Gerard gagged hard once and Frank eased off, feeling his orgasm building and his toes curling against. When Gerard got some air, a thick, sticky string of spit came with him and whatever demon had possessed Frank had him saying, “Don’t worry, baby, if you puke I’ll take care of you.” 

He felt Gerard’s whole body tense and his head connected with Frank’s hip, breath hitching as he fucking sobbed. “Oh my God, oh my God,” he ground out, pressing his hard cock so hard to Frank’s sole. “What the fuck…”

Gerard’s hand curled around Frank’s spit-sticky cock, as he started jerking him off fast and hard. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Frank chanted, grabbing for the camera. “Oh fuck I’m gonna...” 

He got the lens trained back on Gerard’s face, so ruined now, Frank’s slick cock almost resting on his whole face. Gerard’s cheeks were soaked with spit and tears, he was dazed and desperate, the fucking way he was rutting on Frank’s foot while jerking his cock off…

“Please cum on my face,” Gerard begged. “Want it so bad.” 

Frank slipped his thumb back into Gerard’s mouth and the second Gerard hollowed his cheeks he was done. 

His eyes slammed shut as he lost it, but he opened them again in time to watch him shoot three thick ropes of cum across Gerard’s face. 

“Oh fuck, so fucking pretty Gee, oh my god, look at you,” he was ranting. 

Frank’s thighs were shaking, thumb still caught in Gerard’s mouth. 

“Open, sweetheart,” he gasped, and Gerard stuck out his tongue for Frank, let him run his cock over his tongue as the last drops fell into his mouth. 

Gerard was fucking dripping with it. It was in his hair, eyelashes, sliding over his lips as he sucked on the head gently. 

Gerard was rutting hard against his foot now, and Frank applied just enough pressure, feeling himself flood with exhaustion as he watched Gerard fucking humiliate himself. 

“So fucking beautiful,” Frank rasped. “Please cum for me?”

Gerard gasped, Frank’s cock slipping from his mouth, and thank God because he gritted his teeth and screamed, fingers grabbing and digging at Frank’s thigh as he shot his own load into his sweatpants. 

Frank could feel it, through his sock. Gerard was clinging to him so tight, cum drying on his face. 

He sagged forward, pressed into Frank’s hip and his breath was so ragged it sounded like he was crying. 

“Hey,” Frank said, cupping the back of his head. “Hey, are you okay?” 

Adrenaline dripping, exhaustion flooding in, suddenly Frank felt like a fucking scum bag holding the camera.

He stopped the recording and set it down. 

“Gee, oh my God.” 

Frank had to half-pry him off his leg so he could drop down to his level. Gerard didn’t sound like he was crying, he definitely was crying. 

Frank felt sick. His whole body was sweaty and cold now and he was shaking a little. Gerard’s hair was covering his face. 

“Gee, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Frank kept saying. “That went way too far.” 

He felt Gerard’s arms wrap around his waist. 

“Woah,” Gerard gasped. “I’m good, I’m good.” 

He looked up then, and goddamn Frank had painted him. He pushed Gerard’s hair out of his face again. 

“Come on, man,” he said, and pulled him to his feet. “Gonna clean you up.” 

He led Gerard to the bathroom and had him sit on the closed toilet lid while he wet a mildewy hand towel and gently scrubbed Gerard’s face. 

Gerard looked like he was slowly coming back online. “I’m okay,” he said.

Frank was feeling so uneasy, the part of him that wanted to bask in the afterglow was bogged down with a sickening guilty feeling. 

“We need to talk about this,” Frank said. 

Gerard nodded. “I promise you, I’m fine.”

Frank bit his lip anxiously. “I’ve never made someone cry during sex. I was being weird and power tripping and so mean and fucked up. I’m so sorry.”

Gerard’s hand wrapped around Frank’s wrist. “You were great,” he said, meeting his eyes. “It was consensual, dude. It was so fucking good.”

Frank made a nervous noise. He wanted to touch Gerard, soothe him. Cuddle him. But he felt so… dirty. 

“You cried…” 

“Yeah, kind of embarrassing. I didn’t think I’d, like, cry.” Gerard’s hand tightened around his wrist. “But it was because, um… You kind of gave me exactly what I wanted.” 

Frank rubbed at his neck, still anxious and jumpy and guilty. “I, uh…” 

Gerard slowly, cautiously wrapped his arm around Frank’s waist. Frank realized for the first time he was fully naked still and Gerard was fully clothed. He shivered, from the feeling of the hug and the exposure and the adrenaline crash and from the cold tile on his feet. 

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked softly. 

Frank wanted to say yes but it would be a lie. “I want to lay down,” he said. 

Gerard pressed a soft kiss to Frank’s sternum and pulled himself to his feet. The kiss felt tender and Frank didn’t know what to do with it. He shivered again. Gerard led Frank back to his bedroom, the camera sitting on the desk like an accusation. 

Gerard pulled the covers back and let Frank slide in, then tucked them over him. 

“Where are you….” Frank murmured. 

Gerard put his hand on the side of Frank’s face and gave a little pressure, another sweet gesture that made Frank’s post-orgasm brain keen. 

“I came in my pants, Frankie, just let me sort myself out.” 

Frank swallowed thickly, the memory making him dizzy. He watched Gerard dig around for pajama pants then slip back out to the washroom. 

When he came back, his hair was wet and he smelled like toothpaste. 

Frank’s stomach flipped when Gerard crawled under the covers with him. “Do you want to — ”

But Frank was already wrapping himself around Gerard. 

God, he was never good with this kind of stuff. Sex always made him clingy and heartsick and anxious. And dirty filthy kinky porn sex with your friend? Where they cried after you got off on degrading them? 

Frank buried his face in Gerard’s shoulder and whimpered a little when Gerard rubbed his back. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Gerard said. 

Frank took a deep breath. “I feel so guilty… for treating you like that.” 

Gerard hummed a little. “It was so hot, Frankie. I loved every second of it.” 

“I just…” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want him to see.” 

“Him?” 

“The guy.” 

“Oh.” 

Gerard didn’t stop rubbing his back, but Frank still felt so fucking guilty. 

“You asked me to do… that…” He had to take a second to gather himself again. “It was to make money. But I just… I don’t want him to see me do that. I want that just for us.” 

Gerard’s arms wrapped tighter around him. “I… wasn’t going to send it to him,” he admitted. 

Frank lifted his head up to look at Gerard, and his face was kind of… bashful. “You weren’t?” 

Gerard shrugged. “He would have been getting way more than he paid for,” he said. He shifted a little, eyeing Frank warily. “Be honest with me. Did you just say yes for the money?” 

Frank considered himself for a moment, butt ass naked in Gerard’s bed after jerking him off with his foot. 

“No, not really,” he said. “I think I just wanted to fuck you.” 

Gerard snorted and planted a big wet smooch on his forehead. “Mission accomplished,” he said. “And I appreciate knowing someone is listening when I talk about my kinky shit.” 

Frank dug a knuckle into Gerard’s ribs and felt satisfied when he yelped and tried to squirm away. “Oh God, you never shut up about it,” he laughed. “It’s always made me kind of curious I guess.” 

“I see that.” 

Gerard eventually turned the old TV in the corner of the room on and put on The Thing. Frank settled down and started drifting off to sleep, crunching up one of Gerard’s flat, yellow pillows into something a little more comfortable. 

He felt Gerard get up and make popcorn, listened to him rustle around the room a bit, typical night owl stuff, but it didn’t really pull him out of sleep. 

But then he heard himself, tinny on the camera, moaning, “So fucking pretty, Gee. Oh my God, look at you,” and his eyes shot open. 

Gerard was staring down at the video with his mouth hanging open, face flushed. 

On the screen, Frank was babbling, “So fucking messy, my good fucking boy, oh God, so fucking good…”

“Gee..” Frank croaked, still half asleep. “What are you doing?” 

When Gerard looked at him, his eyes were dark. 

“I want to fuck the living hell out of you,” he said, matter of fact. 

Frank squeaked. 

That seemed to snap Gerard out of it. He snapped the viewfinder shut on the camera and let out a breath. “Sorry, sorry. That’s just… the hottest fucking shit,” he said. 

“Um, I’d do that,” Frank said. “Maybe not tonight, but… I’m interested.” 

“In me fucking you?”

Frank nodded. 

Gerard snuggled close, and Frank could feel how hard he was through his pajama pants. “I’d be gentle,” he said softly. 

Frank stared at his face for a moment, feeling something well up inside his chest. Considering what they’d done earlier, it was almost silly how nervous he was to press a kiss to Gerard’s lips. 

Gerard kissed back just as soft, held his face in his hands and kept it chaste as his cock started softening against Frank’s thigh. 

Frank pulled back, sleepy and feeling all warm and gooey. 

“I might end up blabbing about this,” he admitted. 

Gerard laughed. “If you’re telling Miley, please spare him the details.” 

“Deal.”