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“Uh- I-” Frank stammers, not sure what Gerard wants.
He’d just been getting dressed before a show, Mikey and Ray are out scavenging the barbeques.
And Gerard is.
Gerard is sitting on the kitchen counter, grinning evilly.
Because they’d just asked Frank to lift up his shirt like girls do in porn.
When their words are just followed by expectant silence, Frank laughs disbelievingly.
“Dude, what?”
Gerard huffs. “You heard me.”
“Alright, why?”
They shrug. Real convincing.
Frank sighs and tries to fix the swoop of hair across his face. It’s misbehaving because it’s been way too hot today, therefore all he’s done is lie in his bunk; fucking up his hair.
And it’s greasy because they’re on tour.
The bus is a little humid, but it’s worse out in the beating sun. At least he isn’t actively soaking through his shirt in here, but everything is just a touch too sticky. He doesn’t want to be surrounded by anything other than cotton. Maybe that’s why Gerard is sitting on the counter and not the leather seats.
The counter is gross, though.
Frank has his back to them, leaning over to look in the shitty little mirror. His hair still isn’t doing what he wants, so he leaves it and turns to them.
Gerard looks much the same as always, tight jeans, tight shirt, hair messy, eyeliner at least three days old and just re-drawn, bulletproof vest off to one side.
This tour has been interesting. Warped while Gee is sober.
“C’mon,” They say. “It’ll be quick. Doesn’t even matter.”
Frank thinks it might.
The last drunken hookup they had was before Tokyo, and Gerard would not stop pinching and pulling at his nipples, trying to cup them like he had real boobs.
But Gerard is never this forward. And there hasn’t been anything between them since.
Except for maybe Frank’s stupid pining, but that hasn’t actually gone anywhere. He hasn’t wanted to push something that might’ve only stemmed from intoxicated bad decisions.
And he doesn’t want to fuck up the band.
He sighs.
“So…what? Just lift it?”
“Slowly,” Gerard specifies. “Really tease it. You know, like in porn.”
Frank has a weird feeling that only girls do it in porn, and he doesn’t really have enough cleavage for the desired effect.
His hands are reaching for the bottom of his shirt anyway.
He lifts it slow, dragging it up his body and feeling exposed. Just…standing in the middle of the bus, with an unlocked door, their bandmates coming back at an undisclosed time, suddenly hyper-aware of every little soft part of his torso as the fabric lifts from it.
But Gerard is…their eyes have gone all big, like they’re trying to get as much of this in as they can, and they’re biting their lip.
And one of their hands is real high up their thigh.
By the time it’s right underneath his nipples, Frank is feeling unusually nervous. It’s nothing Gerard hasn’t seen before.
Nothing quite a lot of people haven’t seen before, he doesn’t really care about going shirtless unless he’s running the risk of sunburn.
“Um,” Frank starts, though he’s not sure where it’s going. “Is…this fine?”
“So fine.” Is the answer he gets, and Gerard’s gaze stays low. Not on his face. Very much on his chest.
This is…weird. This works on girls because they, like, have boobs. He doesn’t. Does he?
Well. It’s clearly enough to get Gerard going, because they’re palming shamelessly at their cock now, hard and obvious in those tight jeans.
“Gee?” Frank squeaks out.
“Mmh?” They say, weirdly low and husky, sliding off the counter. Frank hasn’t heard that tone from them in a while.
It’s making his cock stir.
“I wanna see more,” They continue, hands coming to Frank’s hips. “Will you let me?”
Speechless, and maybe drooling a little, Frank nods. His face is so fucking hot. Burning up all the way to his ears.
And, yeah, maybe he whimpers when Gerard undoes his fly. Maybe he just stands there and takes it when his jeans and boxers get pushed down just enough to expose his ass, to have his cock spring up, pink and already leaking.
Maybe he just obediently keeps his hands on his shirt, holding it up like Gerard told him to.
“Oh, good boy,” he coos. “Look at that…perfect for me, huh?”
Their dirty talk is different when they’re sober. A lot less mumbly and a lot more coherent.
Frank doesn’t know if that’s better or worse for his stamina.
“Gee-”
“Shh. Don’t worry. I just wanna look..”
Frank’s breathing is getting real fast. In a good way. Panting.
He doesn’t know if he can take them just looking. He wants their big, pretty hands on his cock, like, yesterday.
“You’re so fucking pretty, Frank,” Oh, God. He’s gonna die. “Especially these..”
They trail off, and now they’re definitely not just looking. No, they’re reaching up and cupping his chest so, so gently.
It’s warm enough that his nipples haven’t really peaked, staying nice and soft and rosy.
He moans when they pinch one. Jesus.
“On your knees.”
It’s embarrassing, really, how fast he complies.
Frank drops to his knees right there in the middle of the bus, shirt still held up, pants around his thighs, staring up at them with his best puppy dog eyes. There’s a thud when he hits the ground, but he doesn’t feel a thing.
All his focus is on them.
“Shit,” They breathe, pupils so big he can hardly see their irises. “Yeah. Look so good like that.”
Frank tongues at his lip ring not so absentmindedly. He knows they watch when he does that.
“Mmn?”
Gerard twitches a little. And then their hand goes to their fly.
“Gonna fuckin’ cum on you and take pictures.”
Yeah, so, maybe Frank’s hips twitch upwards at that.
He’s so fucking gone for them. Always has been.
And now, both of them sober, clear-headed, not fumbling around in the dark. This is incredible. He can fucking see the pretty length of their cock once they free it from their jeans.
“Commando?” He giggles. “You’re such a slut.”
“Careful,” Gerard warns, a new glint in their eye. “I’ll leave you here.”
Frank whimpers.
They adjust their stance, breathing through an open mouth as they jerk off right over Frank’s face, hair starting to stick to their forehead in places.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Gorgeous,” He says, the word tumbling from his lips before he manages to stop it. “Gee, please. Wanna see you cum. Wanna feel it.”
That makes them groan, head lolling off to one side, hand speeding up, starting to produce these kinda silly shlick, shlick sounds, because they’re just leaking that much.
Frank is so fucking lucky that he gets to see this.
“Mmh,” He continues. “Wanna be sticky with it. Just fuckin’ rub it in and go on stage. Claimed. You could lick it off.”
That does the trick.
Gerard’s eyes roll back, and they make the prettiest fucking sound ever, cumming in spurts over Frank’s face and chest, soft moans escaping as they keep pumping, milking everything from themself for him.
Frank groans, lapping at what he can reach. “Thank you…”
They swallow hard, collecting themself for a moment. And it’s quiet. Frank feels sated, even if he’s still rock fucking hard.
Until he’s getting pulled up, made to stand on weak, shaky legs, pushed up against the counter and his shirt tugged off of him.
So much for his hair.
He’s about to complain, but then there’s a hand on his cock, and Gerard presses in all close, and fuck.
They’re so warm, and he’s covered in their cum while they lick at his throat, tongue hot.
Frank is so fucking close already, hips rolling pathetically into their touch, hands now free to cling to them as they jerk him off perfectly, rubbing the head of his cock with their thumb, wet and slick and so good.
“Gee,” He stammers, way higher pitched than he’d like. “Gerard, holy shit, m’gonna fucking cum.”
“Do it,” They mumble. “Come on, Frankie. Let go for me.”
Frank moans, uncontrollably loud, jerking in their hold as the heat in his gut fucking explodes, and he cums all over their hand, sticky white dribbling over their fingers.
He feels his eyes go wide and spit drip down his chin, and he has to lean on them almost entirely while he rides it out, and Gerard doesn’t fucking stop.
They keep moving their hand, barely even slowing down, even wetter than before, not letting him get soft.
Frank can’t.
He can’t. Not so soon.
He tries to tell them as much.
“Gerard-”
Their name comes out shaky and weak and real pathetic.
All he gets in return is a sly grin and their other hand moving to cup one of his tits, massaging gently, thumb rubbing the nipple.
The extra stimulation makes Frank writhe with overstimulation.
“Oh, fuck,” He gasps. “Hah, shit, Gee-”
Gerard smiles and lifts up to kiss his forehead. It’s so gentle, such a contrast to the rough, zinging sensation on his cock that he does…something.
Maybe Frank cums, it sort of feels like he does, but he’s definitely shooting blanks.
It feels good, and his eyes close on their own, and…maybe he blacks out a little.
When he comes to again, he’s breathing more normally, and totally being held up by Gerard, who’s put their dick away now.
“Hey.” They say.
Frank giggles, exhausted and gross. “Dude.”
Gerard snorts. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go sit down.”
He nods, and does up his own jeans, letting them guide him over to the bus seats so he can collapse down onto them, grimacing at the leather against his sticky back.
“Uh…let me go see if I can find a towel or something..” Gerard says.
But he stops them.
“Nah,” He says. “Meant what I said. Wanna go out on stage like this.”
Gerard grins, all wicked, and Frank knows that they’re gonna have a good fucking show.