Chapter Text
“You don’t have to do this anymore, y’know,” Gerard says carefully, his voice quieter than usual, like he’s testing the words before fully committing to them. “N-Not that I don’t like it, or that I’m trying to—”
“I know.” Frank sighs into his chest.
His fingers trace along Gerard’s happy trail without much thought, slow and absentminded. “I like it, though,” he admits softly. “But I get why you wouldn’t want me to continue… now that we’re together and all.”
Gerard hums, uncomfortable. His arm tightens around Frank just slightly before he realizes it. He doesn’t want to be in the way of Frank’s work, doesn’t want to sound like some bitter, jealous boyfriend who draws lines out of insecurity.
They had gotten into an intense argument about whether Frank’s camboy agenda was considered cheating—especially since he interacted with his viewers and all, even though he had stopped taking private requests after he and Gerard got into a relationship.
“I can’t just stop it like that,” Frank admits, embarrassment curling his shoulders inward. “It’s still my main… um, source of income.”
“I get that, and—”
“However,” Frank cuts in, turning to face him before Gerard can finish. “I thought of an idea to make it less… awkward for you. As my boyfriend.”
Gerard furrows his brows, blinking like he’s been yanked out of a thought. “Yeah?”
“You don’t have to agree. At all. I won’t feel hurt if you don’t,” Frank says quickly—too quickly. “But what do you think about joining my livestreams for now?”
Silence stretches between them, heavy enough that Frank starts to regret speaking at all.
“Are you serious?”
Frank nods, small but certain.
“I don’t know, Frank. I need time to think about it, especially with my work and all,” Gerard says honestly, already running through worst-case scenarios in his head. “Remember, a guy recognized you once at Ray’s store—what if someone recognizes me? Work is over.”
“To be fair,” Frank says, grinning, trying to sound lighter than he feels, “I was recognized because I’m full of unique and very, very remarkable tattoos. Your skin is way too boring for that.”
“My skin is boring to you?!” Gerard gasps, startled by the unprovoked attack for a second. “You know what, fine. I’ll give you that.”
“Your skin is—thank God—too boring for that,” Frank corrects himself, softer now. “And I love it the way it is. All soft, like baby skin.”
“Good save.” Gerard pats his head, and Frank leans into the touch without thinking, almost instinctively, humming quietly. “I’m in.”
“So,” Gerard says later, curiosity creeping into his voice, “do you follow a script? Or—”
“God, no.” Frank laughs. “I have a broad idea or theme. Like, ‘today I feel like dressing up as a nurse’, so I do it. Or if a viewer asks me to wear a collar,” he teases as memories of Countfagula flicker through his mind. “Then I freestyle from there. Follow my instincts.”
Gerard shakes his head, impressed despite himself. “All this time, you were really just… that good? No practicing, no nothing?”
“Some might say I was born with talent,” Frank chuckles. “But it’s easier than you think. Besides, the main attraction will be me. You don’t have to worry about putting on a show.”
“What a gentle way to tell me I’m just a dick for you to use.”
“That’s not—I was trying to ease your nerves, my God.”
“I know, puppy.” Gerard chuckles. “Can I choose our first livestream’s theme?”
Frank’s eyes light up instantly. “Yeah?”
“Puppy-play,” Gerard smirks, “with a twist. Ever heard of Alpha and Omega dynamics?”
“Fuck.”
“And I want a leash. And we’ll both wear leather dog masks.”
“Oh my God.” Frank feels heat rush through him, low in his stomach, pulse spiking. It’s genius—not only is it creative, but also practical. Having their faces covered means more freedom to do whatever the fuck they want. “Where can we even find those?”
“Don’t worry, puppy. I ordered them a while ago. Was planning on introducing them to you eventually.”
Frank feels giddy, bouncing on the edge of his seat. “Can I see them? Do you have a leash, too? Can I see? Please! Show me!”
“Alright, alright.” Gerard pulls up his phone, showing him a set of black puppy masks with spiked whiskers. “They’re back home. I’ll bring everything next weekend.”
“Ugh. Why do you live so far away?”
“Work, puppy.” Gerard kisses the top of Frank’s head. “But, hey… one day you could move there. With me?”
Gerard knows it’s too early to say something like that, feels the risk as soon as the words leave his mouth—but he doesn’t take them back. Meanwhile, Frank tries to hide the way his heart almost jumps out of his chest.
“If I get Ray and Mikey to come with me,” Frank pouts. “But yes. One day.”
“Mikey will move eventually, I’m sure. As for Ray, well, he has a place to stay. Guest room.”
“Can’t wait to see your place,” Frank says, excitement bubbling over. “Every time you talk about it, it sounds huge and fancy. A guest room? Pfft.”
“Well, it’s decent,” Gerard shrugs, shyly. Then, quieter, “Hey, what if you came with me today? Stay the week. You can record from the guest room. When I’m off work this weekend, we do the live. You get to explore New York and have free food.”
“Do I get to have you?”
“I’ll arrange time for that.” Gerard winks. “What do you say?”
“Of course, yes!” Frank throws his arms around him, heart racing at the idea of finally stepping into the other side of Gerard’s life (and seeing how comfortably he lives, given that he has enough money left to spend on a random whore on the internet). “Wait—today?”
“Yes, pretty boy. Go pack. Bring the dildos, collar, all that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir…” Gerard mutters to himself as the honorific awakens something dangerous in his body. “Y’know what, Frank, come back—” He nearly runs after him. “I think I have an idea for our second live!”
The week flies by. Frank explores the city, deep-cleans Gerard’s apartment, cooks different meals for dinner and breakfast every day, and welcomes him back home every night in a new costume—sometimes in nothing at all.
Gerard’s place is even nicer than Frank imagined: modern, spacious, three bedrooms, one converted into an office and another into a guest room.
“Walk me through our first live,” Frank says.
“Yes—um, you know the basic puppy play.” Frank nods, breath hitching already, as Gerard continues, “I want it heavy. Crate—it’s arriving today, actually. Dog bowls. Leash. Masks with muzzles. Maybe tail plugs, though I’m not sure how that’ll work if I’m fucking you.”
Frank’s breathless by the end.
“You won’t be allowed to talk,” Gerard continues, calmly, noticing his boyfriend’s figure stiffening. “Because, well, you’re a dog. All the talking will be done by me unless I grant you permission to speak.” Frank nods, trying to hide the almost imperceptible tent growing in his sweatpants. “I want you to bark or cry occasionally, since it’ll be your only way of communicating.” He pauses. “To sum up—You behave like a puppy. I’m your handler.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. As for the twist: I’ll call you Omega, not only puppy. If I grant you permission to speak, you’ll call me Alpha. And beg for my knot because you're in heat.” Gerard smirks. “Ah, and I’ll give you mating bites. They’ll hurt, but you’re a masochist, so.”
Frank swallows. “Right. That I am.”
“We’ll role-play before the live to get you used to it,” Gerard adds. “What do you think?”
No words.
What does Frank think? He can’t think at all.
Instead, he kisses Gerard hard, pushing him onto the couch. “I guess you like it, don’t you, puppy?” Frank nods frantically, grinding against his boyfriend's thigh and distributing kisses down his neck. Gerard’s hands slide to his ass, a moan escaping Frank’s lips—one interrupted by a doorbell.
“What the—”
“The crate.”
Oh. As Gerard answers the door, Frank watches the massive box come inside, nearly half Gerard’s size. “Mind grabbing the scissors, pup?”
Frank nods, lazily shifting his weight before getting on his feet. A sharp, disapproving sound of Gerard clicking his tongue instantly fills the room. He freezes on spot.
“Be a good puppy. Crawl. Hold the scissors in your mouth.”
Frank stares, wide eyed—he blinks once, twice, brain finally processing what's coming.