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Entry tags:
Fic: Hot Metal (Frank/Gerard, dustverse)
So I wrote some Dustverse porn...
Fandom: Bandom - MCR
Title: Hot Metal
Rating/Pairing: NC-17, Frank/Gerard
Length: 3 688 words
Warning: Reference to off-screen character death
Summary: Desert Trans Am porn.
Author's Note: Follows on from This Might Get Messy, Kids, so it'll make more sense if you read that one first. Dustverse with a nod to some of the new Killjoys canon we got from Art Is A Weapon. Huge thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shiningartifact for the incredibly thorough beta.
Cover Art by the supremely talentedaneas
Hot Metal
The steering wheel of the Trans Am vibrates under Gerard's fingers, wind rushing in from the open window whipping his hair into a frenzy, strands smacking over his face as he tears down the road. He's not looking at the dial, but they're going fast enough that everything outside is a blur. It's a rush but it's not enough.
Every atom of his body is still singing with adrenaline, still feeling the shouts of the crowd as the surging mass of bodies screamed up at him, not even knowing the words half the time but baying for more and he fucking gave it. He gave it all.
He hadn't forgotten what it felt like, not really, except he had, because fuck, it was amazing. Everything he's been missing, everything he's been aching for, throwing his voice out on the airwaves and getting nothing back. No, this rush, every cell of his body fizzing like It's gonna explode, it's too much for a memory, it's got to be experienced.
Frank's caught it too, he's been riding it since they left the venue, twitching and climbing on anyone and anything. He's got his head hung out the window now, hair whipping, howling into the wind like a dog, and Gerard can't help but laugh. Frank collapses back into the passenger seat, giggling, and Gerard tears his eyes from the road long enough to shoot him a wide smile. They're invincible like this - all of them. Nothing can stop the message now.
"Gee hold up." Frank shoots an arm up, pointing toward the horizon, and the flash of pink and blue is enough for Gerard to yank the steering wheel and hit the brake, spinning the Trans Am and taking them off the road. They're barely at a standstill when Frank tears the door open, climbing out, and Gerard rushes to follow him. By the time he's got the driver door closed, Mikey's roared up beside them, the engine of his motorcycle grumbling as it idles.
Mikey flips his helmet visor up, whites of his eyes flashing in the twilight. "Car trouble?"
"No, just sightseeing." Gerard answers, his voice light but strangely guilty.
Mikey just 'hmph''s, shooting a sideways glance at Frank, who's got his ass on the hood of the Trans Am, flipping off Ray as he glides by on his Yamaha.
There's a smile in Mikey's eyes that doesn't make it to his mouth as he glances between his brother and Frank. "Right." He revs his bike, engine growling. "Don't take too long. And watch your backs."
"We always do." Gerard responds, the words familiar on his tongue. He barely gets to see the quirk of Mikey's eyebrow before he's flipping his visor down, silver lettering flaring pink and blue from the sky. His back wheel slides across the dirt, kicking up a dustcloud before he tears off down the road.
Gerard walks through the dirty mist to join Frank, his eyes drinking up the sky. He drops his ass beside Frank's on the warm metal of the car hood.
"Fucking amazing." Frank's voice is awed. Gerard fixes his eyes on the distant horizon, where the meltdown of society has spewed its gaseous breath into the sky, a heavy haze hanging over the landscape, above the dark road with Mikey and Ray's taillights dancing like fireflies as they weave away, back towards base.
With the barest rays of twilight filtering through the noxious fumes, the sky's lit up and glowing, pink, green, blue and purple, dotted with the early stars.
"Who'd think poison could look so fucking pretty?" Gerard muses, twitching a hand through his hair. His blood's still fizzing, his heartbeat rattling in tempo with Stump's quick-fire drumming on their encore track. Na na fucking na.
"Not everything pretty is poisonous." Frank says, and his voice is raw from screaming at the crowd, but something in his tone is solid and warm. When Gerard turns his head to see Frank, he's not looking at the horizon. His eyes are on Gerard, lit by the sky, and they're like mirrors into his own soul.
Gerard's breath catches, heart quivering in his chest, his throat blocked up. Fuck. He can still taste Frank on his mouth, has been licking his lips since the venue, since the mad moment when he grabbed a handful of Frank's sweaty hair and dragged him in for a kiss, the baying crowd urging them on, Ray at his back, guitar spewing beautiful noise, Mikey behind them shredding, blinded by his blonde hair. It was brave and stupid and daring, the kind of thing he used to do before the world fell apart and his life filled with ghosts. He'd torn his heart out and thrown it on the stage for all the crowd to see - for Frank to see - and the fucker had kissed back, his lips sliding, teeth catching, and it's a wonder Gerard hadn't combusted right there on stage.
He'd found his mind in the end, pushed Frank away with a theatrical arm and turned to prowl the stage, screaming back down the mic, but as much as he might like to shake it off and call it showmanship, he can still feel the squeeze of Frank's fingers on his waist where he'd clung on, burned on his skin like a scar.
Frank had smiled at him gleefully for the rest of the set, sweat-bathed and lit up like a firecracker. That same smile is on his face right now, as he reaches up to push a clump of Gerard's neon hair out of his eyes. Gerard knows the strands are soft and brittle under Frank's fingers, stripped and painted a vibrant scarlet in the name of bringing colour, sound and passion back into the world.
There's no noise now but the tick of the engine under his ass and the distant drone of Mikey and Ray's two wheelers as they scream away. No noise but the deafening beating of Gerard's own heart in his ears as Frank's eyes look right through him and his hand falls to the back of Gerard's head.
Gerard doesn't fight the pressure of Frank's hand, lets himself be pulled in, needing this again, more than he should, more than is healthy. Frank's lips meet his, soft and a little dry, then he's licking his way into Gerard's mouth and Gerard's opening up for him like a fucking flower to the sun, all hot and wet and wanting. He sinks into Frank, tasting him, eyes squeezed shut and sucking breath through his nose as their lips slide. Frank tastes like cigarettes and sand, wind and sin. Gerard wants more, wants everything, wants to open Frank up and crawl inside.
Frank makes a noise that's simultaneously satisfied and needy and his fingers tighten on Gerard's neck. It's an edge of pain, and Gerard lets himself be pulled closer, hands braced on the warmed metal of the car hood, wanting to reach up and touch but holding back even though he can't remember why. Because there's a why, a reason niggling at his mind, and he can't find it, can't think, can't absorb anything except the rightness of Frank's mouth on his, the stroke of his tongue.
Frank catches Gerard's lip between his teeth and tugs; the slight pain wakes up his brain, reminding him of a cracked mug, soft eyes, tiny hands. Fuck. Fuck. He pulls back panting, choking on his own breath.
"Fuck, Frank, no we can't. Jamia-" Words out, he waits for Frank to pull away. He doesn't.
"What, you think she doesn't know?" Frank's lips curl around the words, incredulous. "You think I'd be doing this if she wasn't cool with it?"
"But you guys are-"
"We're what? Picket fences? You're thinking like a droid, Gee."
Frank's palms are warm on his cheeks as he tilts Gerard's head up, forcing Gerard to look at him, and what he sees sets him sparking like a bullet-riddled bot. Any words Gerard had die on his lips.
"You're so fucking busy telling everyone to open up their minds, you forgot to deprogram your own." Frank's lips are wet and hovering so close to Gerard's, it would take nothing to breach that distance. There's a screaming in Gerard's head but he can't tell if it's yelling stop or go. Frank's talking over it, words dancing hot wind over Gerard's mouth.
"We're not living by their rules anymore, Gee. I say who my family is now. And that's Jamia and my girls. That's Mikey and Ray and Bandit, and that's you, you fucker."
It's not just the shoulder holster strapped over Gerard's chest that's making his breath come short. His heart's squeezing up like Frank just reached into his chest and grabbed hold of it. He can't fucking think.
Frank eases closer, right in Gerard's face now, their noses brushing, and he's not giving in, not backing down, because it's never the fucking easy way. No, not with him. Gerard can't even focus on Frank's eyes anymore - they're so close they blur - but his voice is unavoidable. Frank tilts his head, not even an inch between their lips, his words a dare and a command.
"Tell me you don't want this."
"I can't." Gerard barely chokes the words out, a desperate whine in his voice because fuck, he can't remember ever not wanting this. It's been there so long it's part of him now, as much as his voice, his hands, his skin - a permanent ache lodged in his chest.
Frank's smile is more a snarl, "Good." He fists his hands in Gerard's shirt and kisses him hard and Gerard just melts. He's got nothing left. He grabs handfuls of Frank's jacket and hangs on, pulling him closer, pushing up against him, needing contact, needing more. There's a dirty chuckle in the back of Frank's throat, a smile stretching his lips even as he continues to nip and suck at Gerard's because he's fucking won this round, and Gerard's never been happier to lose.
Frank shoves Gerard back against the car and straddles him, pressing him down onto the warm metal, lips never leaving his, hands covering Gerard's and sweeping up his arms, down his chest. When Frank's hands slip under Gerard's shirt, calloused fingers tracing over rib lines and up to press over his nipples, Gerard can't contain his moan. He arches into Frank's touch, groaning against his lips, hips bucking up, needing pressure, needing more.
Frank grinds down on him, their lips separating briefly, and he's smirking at Gerard, no doubt at the stupid noises he's making, the way his mouth is hanging open, wet from Frank's tongue. But fuck, that's it, that's the contact he needs. Gerard grimaces, grips Frank's hips and rolls up into it, so fucking hard behind his zipper already, and it's too much but not enough, not even close.
Frank leans his forehead against Gerard's, breath coming in sharp pants as he rolls his hips again.
"Frankie, fuck." Gerard stutters, tipping his head up to kiss him again, shutting off his mouth with Frank's and stroking Frank's tongue with his own. He's got one hand up the back of Frank's shirt before he's even processed it, the other sliding down the back of his jeans, fingers pressing down into the too-tight opening between cloth and skin, stroking over the sweat damp flesh of Frank's ass. When Frank grinds his hips down again, his hand gets trapped there, Frank's belt pressing painfully across his knuckles, but it's good, so fucking good; he can feel everything. He catches Frank's bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently.
Frank hisses, tossing his head free, muttering, "Fucker. You fucking fucker." He slams Gerard back against the hood, then there's hard metal against Gerard's shoulder blades and Frank's panting into his face, scrabbling between their bodies for Gerard's belt. He gets it open and his hand into Gerard's jeans before he's ready and Gerard whimpers, his limbs suddenly heavy as his body goes weak. His head drops back against the hood with a thump as Frank's fingers shape him through his underwear.
Fuck, it's been too long since anyone's touched him like this. No one since Lyn, and it was never like this then, stripped raw and tasting of dust, light rasp of stubble against his cheek, hard body crushing down on his. Frank's hand shoves inside Gerard's underwear and the feel of Frank's fingers on the hot skin of his cock has Gerard jack-knifing, nearly head-butting Frank as he keens out a desperate noise. His fingernails are digging into Frank's back, hips shoving into Frank's hands, needing friction.
Frank kisses along Gerard's jaw and his hair tickles Gerard's cheek, falls across his eyes. Frank's panting and muttering as his hand finds a breath-stealing grip and a punishing rhythm. "Fuck Gee, waited so fucking long for this."
Gerard chokes out a needy noise, wanting to say "me too," but he's so far past words now all he can do is catch a handful of Frank's hair and pull him down for a kiss. Frank's tongue plunges into his mouth in pace with the movement of his hand on Gerard's dick, and Gerard's pushing gasps and moans out between their joined lips. Frank is playing him like a fucking guitar, pulling moans from him that echo out into the desert, for the bugs and the lizards and the fucking dracs to hear. Gerard can't touch enough, can't feel enough. His hand slides further into Frank's pants, gripping his ass, and Frank rolls down against him, rubbing his hard-on on Gerard's hip with no trace of shame.
Frank tears his mouth from Gerard's, breathing hard. "Motherfuck." He gasps it into the air and then he's gone, body sliding down Gerard's, hands grabbing Gerard's thighs and pulling him forward until his feet hit the ground. Gerard sits up, panting and panicking, wanting Frank back. He blinks his eyes open just in time to see Frank drop to his knees with a wicked smile on his face, and he nearly whites out all over again.
Frank tugs Gerard's pants down roughly; they only get down as far as his thigh holster, but it's enough. Gerard's bare ass is on the warm, dusty surface of the hood and his cock is out, straining and leaking.
"Make some fucking noise." Frank says gruffly, before he dives in, no hesitation at all.
They're the same words Gerard screamed to the crowd earlier tonight, and he starts to laugh but chokes on it the moment Frank's lips meet his dick. Then it's wet heat all over him, pleasure spiking right up his spine, and he drops backwards, arms splayed, head banging on the car as a long throaty moan spills from his lips.
"Oh fuck Frankie. Oh fuck."
Frank pulls off, breath bouncing down the side of Gerard's cock as he sucks in air, his hand moving in place of his mouth. He looks like sin, dark eyes peering through his long locks, messy and dishevelled and absolutely beautiful. "Tell me." Frank demands, a moment before he swallows Gerard's cock again.
Gerard's fingers rise to grip Frank's skull. Holy fucking shit, Frank is amazing. His fucking mouth. It's made for this.
It's not until Frank hums around his cock that Gerard realises he's speaking aloud, panting and whining out the words. He doesn't stop. He doesn't care.
"Fuck. Holy fuck, Frank. Suck it. Yeah, like that. So good. So fucking good."
Frank shifts his hands, cupping Gerard's balls and pulling his mouth up to lick around the sensitive head of Gerard's cock, his hand taking over the rest, slick skin sliding. "Fucking louder, Gee. Can't fucking hear you." His voice is wrecked and his mouth is twitching with a smirk or a smile.
Gerard whimpers, and it turns into a desperate keen when Frank's lips sink down again, taking Gerard right to the back of his throat. Frank's hands are hard on Gerard's hips, keeping him from bucking up off the car, trapped against hard metal. Frank doesn't let up and Gerard doesn't want him to. He locks his fingers in Frank's hair and lets his mouth fall open, moaning loud and long into the night sky.
They're fucked if they get caught out like this, dead meat for the white suits, but he can't bring himself to care. Frank's mouth is magic, sucking him off hard, fast and perfect. One of Frank's callused fingers slips between Gerard's cheeks to press at his hole, and that's it. That's fucking it.
Gerard arches up off the hood, the constant moan leaking from his mouth pitching up, getting louder. His fingers lock in Frank's hair and he can't help the motion of his hips, humping at Frank's mouth, fucking it. Frank's not holding him down anymore, and when Gerard can focus his eyes long enough he sees Frank's got one hand down his jeans, cock rude and leaking in his hand as he jerks himself off. The sight's too much. Gerard's gonna whiteout, he's gonna expire.
"Oh fuck, Frankie. Fuck, Frankie." His hips buck up, shoving into Frank's mouth, his hot, wet, incredible mouth. Fuck, he hopes he doesn't choke him. He looks down and Frank's looking back up at him, face sweaty, hair stuck to his skin, eyes glazed and wanting as his head moves, taking it all. He hums around Gerard's dick, fingertip pressing at his hole and Gerard gasps, chokes, heat flushing through him as his hips leap upwards. He comes with a shout, his whole body stiff, Frank's hot mouth around him and the dusty wind whipping at his face. It's like dying and being reborn, and he rides it out, shaking, his torso hunched forwards, curved over Frank's head, fingers twitching in his greasy hair.
He's still catatonic when Frank stands up, licking his lips, one hand still jerking his cock. His eyes are slitted, his lips in a snarl and he's not shy about it at all. Gerard's staring. Fuck, he's gorgeous .
Gerard shakes himself awake, scrambling to his feet and grabbing Frank by the shoulders, turning him and pushing him back against the Trans Am. He licks his palm and shoves Frank's hand out of the way, taking Frank's dick and pumping it. Frank groans beautifully, hips bucking into Gerard's hand. Gerard takes his mouth, kissing him hard and wet, tasting the bitterness of his own flavour on Frank's lips and loving it. He plunges his tongue into Frank's mouth as his hand moves, feeling Frank shaking under him, twitching and bucking and moaning into Gerard's mouth.
It doesn't take long for Frank to lose it. Gerard breaks the kiss, leaning up to watch it. Frank's eyes flutter and he curses loud and harsh. His hips buck up erratically, dick humping Gerard's hand until he freezes, every muscle tense, eyes locked hot on Gerard's for one long moment, teetering on the brink, all heat and need under Gerard's hands. Gerard can feel his lips stretching into a smile as he flicks his wrist, breaking the frozen moment and Frank chokes, melts, groaning brokenly as his cock pulses, spilling hot release onto Gerard's fingers.
Frank collapses back onto the hood of the car, his head hitting metal with a thump that he probably won't feel until tomorrow. He grabs Gerard around the shoulders, tipping him forwards to land on Frank, their bodies crushed awkwardly, Gerard's hand trapped between them.
Frank kisses him, sloppy and smiling, and Gerard can't help the answering grin that creeps onto his own face. He feels light, like he wants to run, like he could fly. He's high, on adrenaline, on sex, on Frank. He tugs his hand free, licking it clean and Frank watches, awe and disgust painted across his features.
"What?" Gerard asks, tip of his thumb still on his lip. "Tastes better than lizard."
Frank's grin lights up his whole face. "Sure it does." He tugs Gerard down for a kiss, slow and lingering, the taste mingling between them. Gerard feels like he could melt all over him, their legs tangled against the cooling engine as he gives back as good as he gets.
He doesn't want to hear it, but he does, the distant hum of motors. He breaks the kiss, sitting up, listening. They're getting closer.
"We should hop. I smell latex."
"And, as usual, their timing fucking sucks." Frank retorts, scrambling up and hoisting his jeans over his ass. The distant engine noise gets louder and Gerard tugs his own pants up. He makes a dash for the Trans Am, climbing into the driver's seat without even buckling up his pants or his seatbelt. He sparks the engine and the moment Frank slams the passenger door he hits the gas.
The radio blasts as they scream down the road, frenetic drums, wailing guitar, snarling lyrics. Gerard's face splits into a smile, red hair whipping in his eyes.
"I like the new doctor. He's got good taste." Frank calls the words out over the blare of the stereo.
Gerard turns his smile on Frank and Frank sends one right back. He still hasn't bothered to buckle his pants either.
"What do you think happened to the old one?" Gerard asks, eyes checking the rearview for headlights and seeing none.
"I heard he had bigger things to take care of." Frank says, not missing a beat.
"Like family?" Gerard's heart skips over the word in a way it hasn't in a long time.
"Yeah. Like family." Frank confirms, with a smile that pinches the corners of his eyes. His fingers brush Gerard's on the gearshift as he reaches for the stereo, sending a tingle up his arm. Gerard smiles, chest ready to burst, the ache he's known too well, too long, conspicuously absent.
Gerard doesn't know, can't know, their ultimate destination. But he knows who he's travelling with, and that's all that matters for now.
Frank cranks the volume. The music blares, and the world blurs as they speed down the road.
~end
Fandom: Bandom - MCR
Title: Hot Metal
Rating/Pairing: NC-17, Frank/Gerard
Length: 3 688 words
Warning: Reference to off-screen character death
Summary: Desert Trans Am porn.
Author's Note: Follows on from This Might Get Messy, Kids, so it'll make more sense if you read that one first. Dustverse with a nod to some of the new Killjoys canon we got from Art Is A Weapon. Huge thanks to
shiningartifact for the incredibly thorough beta.Cover Art by the supremely talented
aneasHot Metal
The steering wheel of the Trans Am vibrates under Gerard's fingers, wind rushing in from the open window whipping his hair into a frenzy, strands smacking over his face as he tears down the road. He's not looking at the dial, but they're going fast enough that everything outside is a blur. It's a rush but it's not enough.
Every atom of his body is still singing with adrenaline, still feeling the shouts of the crowd as the surging mass of bodies screamed up at him, not even knowing the words half the time but baying for more and he fucking gave it. He gave it all.
He hadn't forgotten what it felt like, not really, except he had, because fuck, it was amazing. Everything he's been missing, everything he's been aching for, throwing his voice out on the airwaves and getting nothing back. No, this rush, every cell of his body fizzing like It's gonna explode, it's too much for a memory, it's got to be experienced.
Frank's caught it too, he's been riding it since they left the venue, twitching and climbing on anyone and anything. He's got his head hung out the window now, hair whipping, howling into the wind like a dog, and Gerard can't help but laugh. Frank collapses back into the passenger seat, giggling, and Gerard tears his eyes from the road long enough to shoot him a wide smile. They're invincible like this - all of them. Nothing can stop the message now.
"Gee hold up." Frank shoots an arm up, pointing toward the horizon, and the flash of pink and blue is enough for Gerard to yank the steering wheel and hit the brake, spinning the Trans Am and taking them off the road. They're barely at a standstill when Frank tears the door open, climbing out, and Gerard rushes to follow him. By the time he's got the driver door closed, Mikey's roared up beside them, the engine of his motorcycle grumbling as it idles.
Mikey flips his helmet visor up, whites of his eyes flashing in the twilight. "Car trouble?"
"No, just sightseeing." Gerard answers, his voice light but strangely guilty.
Mikey just 'hmph''s, shooting a sideways glance at Frank, who's got his ass on the hood of the Trans Am, flipping off Ray as he glides by on his Yamaha.
There's a smile in Mikey's eyes that doesn't make it to his mouth as he glances between his brother and Frank. "Right." He revs his bike, engine growling. "Don't take too long. And watch your backs."
"We always do." Gerard responds, the words familiar on his tongue. He barely gets to see the quirk of Mikey's eyebrow before he's flipping his visor down, silver lettering flaring pink and blue from the sky. His back wheel slides across the dirt, kicking up a dustcloud before he tears off down the road.
Gerard walks through the dirty mist to join Frank, his eyes drinking up the sky. He drops his ass beside Frank's on the warm metal of the car hood.
"Fucking amazing." Frank's voice is awed. Gerard fixes his eyes on the distant horizon, where the meltdown of society has spewed its gaseous breath into the sky, a heavy haze hanging over the landscape, above the dark road with Mikey and Ray's taillights dancing like fireflies as they weave away, back towards base.
With the barest rays of twilight filtering through the noxious fumes, the sky's lit up and glowing, pink, green, blue and purple, dotted with the early stars.
"Who'd think poison could look so fucking pretty?" Gerard muses, twitching a hand through his hair. His blood's still fizzing, his heartbeat rattling in tempo with Stump's quick-fire drumming on their encore track. Na na fucking na.
"Not everything pretty is poisonous." Frank says, and his voice is raw from screaming at the crowd, but something in his tone is solid and warm. When Gerard turns his head to see Frank, he's not looking at the horizon. His eyes are on Gerard, lit by the sky, and they're like mirrors into his own soul.
Gerard's breath catches, heart quivering in his chest, his throat blocked up. Fuck. He can still taste Frank on his mouth, has been licking his lips since the venue, since the mad moment when he grabbed a handful of Frank's sweaty hair and dragged him in for a kiss, the baying crowd urging them on, Ray at his back, guitar spewing beautiful noise, Mikey behind them shredding, blinded by his blonde hair. It was brave and stupid and daring, the kind of thing he used to do before the world fell apart and his life filled with ghosts. He'd torn his heart out and thrown it on the stage for all the crowd to see - for Frank to see - and the fucker had kissed back, his lips sliding, teeth catching, and it's a wonder Gerard hadn't combusted right there on stage.
He'd found his mind in the end, pushed Frank away with a theatrical arm and turned to prowl the stage, screaming back down the mic, but as much as he might like to shake it off and call it showmanship, he can still feel the squeeze of Frank's fingers on his waist where he'd clung on, burned on his skin like a scar.
Frank had smiled at him gleefully for the rest of the set, sweat-bathed and lit up like a firecracker. That same smile is on his face right now, as he reaches up to push a clump of Gerard's neon hair out of his eyes. Gerard knows the strands are soft and brittle under Frank's fingers, stripped and painted a vibrant scarlet in the name of bringing colour, sound and passion back into the world.
There's no noise now but the tick of the engine under his ass and the distant drone of Mikey and Ray's two wheelers as they scream away. No noise but the deafening beating of Gerard's own heart in his ears as Frank's eyes look right through him and his hand falls to the back of Gerard's head.
Gerard doesn't fight the pressure of Frank's hand, lets himself be pulled in, needing this again, more than he should, more than is healthy. Frank's lips meet his, soft and a little dry, then he's licking his way into Gerard's mouth and Gerard's opening up for him like a fucking flower to the sun, all hot and wet and wanting. He sinks into Frank, tasting him, eyes squeezed shut and sucking breath through his nose as their lips slide. Frank tastes like cigarettes and sand, wind and sin. Gerard wants more, wants everything, wants to open Frank up and crawl inside.
Frank makes a noise that's simultaneously satisfied and needy and his fingers tighten on Gerard's neck. It's an edge of pain, and Gerard lets himself be pulled closer, hands braced on the warmed metal of the car hood, wanting to reach up and touch but holding back even though he can't remember why. Because there's a why, a reason niggling at his mind, and he can't find it, can't think, can't absorb anything except the rightness of Frank's mouth on his, the stroke of his tongue.
Frank catches Gerard's lip between his teeth and tugs; the slight pain wakes up his brain, reminding him of a cracked mug, soft eyes, tiny hands. Fuck. Fuck. He pulls back panting, choking on his own breath.
"Fuck, Frank, no we can't. Jamia-" Words out, he waits for Frank to pull away. He doesn't.
"What, you think she doesn't know?" Frank's lips curl around the words, incredulous. "You think I'd be doing this if she wasn't cool with it?"
"But you guys are-"
"We're what? Picket fences? You're thinking like a droid, Gee."
Frank's palms are warm on his cheeks as he tilts Gerard's head up, forcing Gerard to look at him, and what he sees sets him sparking like a bullet-riddled bot. Any words Gerard had die on his lips.
"You're so fucking busy telling everyone to open up their minds, you forgot to deprogram your own." Frank's lips are wet and hovering so close to Gerard's, it would take nothing to breach that distance. There's a screaming in Gerard's head but he can't tell if it's yelling stop or go. Frank's talking over it, words dancing hot wind over Gerard's mouth.
"We're not living by their rules anymore, Gee. I say who my family is now. And that's Jamia and my girls. That's Mikey and Ray and Bandit, and that's you, you fucker."
It's not just the shoulder holster strapped over Gerard's chest that's making his breath come short. His heart's squeezing up like Frank just reached into his chest and grabbed hold of it. He can't fucking think.
Frank eases closer, right in Gerard's face now, their noses brushing, and he's not giving in, not backing down, because it's never the fucking easy way. No, not with him. Gerard can't even focus on Frank's eyes anymore - they're so close they blur - but his voice is unavoidable. Frank tilts his head, not even an inch between their lips, his words a dare and a command.
"Tell me you don't want this."
"I can't." Gerard barely chokes the words out, a desperate whine in his voice because fuck, he can't remember ever not wanting this. It's been there so long it's part of him now, as much as his voice, his hands, his skin - a permanent ache lodged in his chest.
Frank's smile is more a snarl, "Good." He fists his hands in Gerard's shirt and kisses him hard and Gerard just melts. He's got nothing left. He grabs handfuls of Frank's jacket and hangs on, pulling him closer, pushing up against him, needing contact, needing more. There's a dirty chuckle in the back of Frank's throat, a smile stretching his lips even as he continues to nip and suck at Gerard's because he's fucking won this round, and Gerard's never been happier to lose.
Frank shoves Gerard back against the car and straddles him, pressing him down onto the warm metal, lips never leaving his, hands covering Gerard's and sweeping up his arms, down his chest. When Frank's hands slip under Gerard's shirt, calloused fingers tracing over rib lines and up to press over his nipples, Gerard can't contain his moan. He arches into Frank's touch, groaning against his lips, hips bucking up, needing pressure, needing more.
Frank grinds down on him, their lips separating briefly, and he's smirking at Gerard, no doubt at the stupid noises he's making, the way his mouth is hanging open, wet from Frank's tongue. But fuck, that's it, that's the contact he needs. Gerard grimaces, grips Frank's hips and rolls up into it, so fucking hard behind his zipper already, and it's too much but not enough, not even close.
Frank leans his forehead against Gerard's, breath coming in sharp pants as he rolls his hips again.
"Frankie, fuck." Gerard stutters, tipping his head up to kiss him again, shutting off his mouth with Frank's and stroking Frank's tongue with his own. He's got one hand up the back of Frank's shirt before he's even processed it, the other sliding down the back of his jeans, fingers pressing down into the too-tight opening between cloth and skin, stroking over the sweat damp flesh of Frank's ass. When Frank grinds his hips down again, his hand gets trapped there, Frank's belt pressing painfully across his knuckles, but it's good, so fucking good; he can feel everything. He catches Frank's bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently.
Frank hisses, tossing his head free, muttering, "Fucker. You fucking fucker." He slams Gerard back against the hood, then there's hard metal against Gerard's shoulder blades and Frank's panting into his face, scrabbling between their bodies for Gerard's belt. He gets it open and his hand into Gerard's jeans before he's ready and Gerard whimpers, his limbs suddenly heavy as his body goes weak. His head drops back against the hood with a thump as Frank's fingers shape him through his underwear.
Fuck, it's been too long since anyone's touched him like this. No one since Lyn, and it was never like this then, stripped raw and tasting of dust, light rasp of stubble against his cheek, hard body crushing down on his. Frank's hand shoves inside Gerard's underwear and the feel of Frank's fingers on the hot skin of his cock has Gerard jack-knifing, nearly head-butting Frank as he keens out a desperate noise. His fingernails are digging into Frank's back, hips shoving into Frank's hands, needing friction.
Frank kisses along Gerard's jaw and his hair tickles Gerard's cheek, falls across his eyes. Frank's panting and muttering as his hand finds a breath-stealing grip and a punishing rhythm. "Fuck Gee, waited so fucking long for this."
Gerard chokes out a needy noise, wanting to say "me too," but he's so far past words now all he can do is catch a handful of Frank's hair and pull him down for a kiss. Frank's tongue plunges into his mouth in pace with the movement of his hand on Gerard's dick, and Gerard's pushing gasps and moans out between their joined lips. Frank is playing him like a fucking guitar, pulling moans from him that echo out into the desert, for the bugs and the lizards and the fucking dracs to hear. Gerard can't touch enough, can't feel enough. His hand slides further into Frank's pants, gripping his ass, and Frank rolls down against him, rubbing his hard-on on Gerard's hip with no trace of shame.
Frank tears his mouth from Gerard's, breathing hard. "Motherfuck." He gasps it into the air and then he's gone, body sliding down Gerard's, hands grabbing Gerard's thighs and pulling him forward until his feet hit the ground. Gerard sits up, panting and panicking, wanting Frank back. He blinks his eyes open just in time to see Frank drop to his knees with a wicked smile on his face, and he nearly whites out all over again.
Frank tugs Gerard's pants down roughly; they only get down as far as his thigh holster, but it's enough. Gerard's bare ass is on the warm, dusty surface of the hood and his cock is out, straining and leaking.
"Make some fucking noise." Frank says gruffly, before he dives in, no hesitation at all.
They're the same words Gerard screamed to the crowd earlier tonight, and he starts to laugh but chokes on it the moment Frank's lips meet his dick. Then it's wet heat all over him, pleasure spiking right up his spine, and he drops backwards, arms splayed, head banging on the car as a long throaty moan spills from his lips.
"Oh fuck Frankie. Oh fuck."
Frank pulls off, breath bouncing down the side of Gerard's cock as he sucks in air, his hand moving in place of his mouth. He looks like sin, dark eyes peering through his long locks, messy and dishevelled and absolutely beautiful. "Tell me." Frank demands, a moment before he swallows Gerard's cock again.
Gerard's fingers rise to grip Frank's skull. Holy fucking shit, Frank is amazing. His fucking mouth. It's made for this.
It's not until Frank hums around his cock that Gerard realises he's speaking aloud, panting and whining out the words. He doesn't stop. He doesn't care.
"Fuck. Holy fuck, Frank. Suck it. Yeah, like that. So good. So fucking good."
Frank shifts his hands, cupping Gerard's balls and pulling his mouth up to lick around the sensitive head of Gerard's cock, his hand taking over the rest, slick skin sliding. "Fucking louder, Gee. Can't fucking hear you." His voice is wrecked and his mouth is twitching with a smirk or a smile.
Gerard whimpers, and it turns into a desperate keen when Frank's lips sink down again, taking Gerard right to the back of his throat. Frank's hands are hard on Gerard's hips, keeping him from bucking up off the car, trapped against hard metal. Frank doesn't let up and Gerard doesn't want him to. He locks his fingers in Frank's hair and lets his mouth fall open, moaning loud and long into the night sky.
They're fucked if they get caught out like this, dead meat for the white suits, but he can't bring himself to care. Frank's mouth is magic, sucking him off hard, fast and perfect. One of Frank's callused fingers slips between Gerard's cheeks to press at his hole, and that's it. That's fucking it.
Gerard arches up off the hood, the constant moan leaking from his mouth pitching up, getting louder. His fingers lock in Frank's hair and he can't help the motion of his hips, humping at Frank's mouth, fucking it. Frank's not holding him down anymore, and when Gerard can focus his eyes long enough he sees Frank's got one hand down his jeans, cock rude and leaking in his hand as he jerks himself off. The sight's too much. Gerard's gonna whiteout, he's gonna expire.
"Oh fuck, Frankie. Fuck, Frankie." His hips buck up, shoving into Frank's mouth, his hot, wet, incredible mouth. Fuck, he hopes he doesn't choke him. He looks down and Frank's looking back up at him, face sweaty, hair stuck to his skin, eyes glazed and wanting as his head moves, taking it all. He hums around Gerard's dick, fingertip pressing at his hole and Gerard gasps, chokes, heat flushing through him as his hips leap upwards. He comes with a shout, his whole body stiff, Frank's hot mouth around him and the dusty wind whipping at his face. It's like dying and being reborn, and he rides it out, shaking, his torso hunched forwards, curved over Frank's head, fingers twitching in his greasy hair.
He's still catatonic when Frank stands up, licking his lips, one hand still jerking his cock. His eyes are slitted, his lips in a snarl and he's not shy about it at all. Gerard's staring. Fuck, he's gorgeous .
Gerard shakes himself awake, scrambling to his feet and grabbing Frank by the shoulders, turning him and pushing him back against the Trans Am. He licks his palm and shoves Frank's hand out of the way, taking Frank's dick and pumping it. Frank groans beautifully, hips bucking into Gerard's hand. Gerard takes his mouth, kissing him hard and wet, tasting the bitterness of his own flavour on Frank's lips and loving it. He plunges his tongue into Frank's mouth as his hand moves, feeling Frank shaking under him, twitching and bucking and moaning into Gerard's mouth.
It doesn't take long for Frank to lose it. Gerard breaks the kiss, leaning up to watch it. Frank's eyes flutter and he curses loud and harsh. His hips buck up erratically, dick humping Gerard's hand until he freezes, every muscle tense, eyes locked hot on Gerard's for one long moment, teetering on the brink, all heat and need under Gerard's hands. Gerard can feel his lips stretching into a smile as he flicks his wrist, breaking the frozen moment and Frank chokes, melts, groaning brokenly as his cock pulses, spilling hot release onto Gerard's fingers.
Frank collapses back onto the hood of the car, his head hitting metal with a thump that he probably won't feel until tomorrow. He grabs Gerard around the shoulders, tipping him forwards to land on Frank, their bodies crushed awkwardly, Gerard's hand trapped between them.
Frank kisses him, sloppy and smiling, and Gerard can't help the answering grin that creeps onto his own face. He feels light, like he wants to run, like he could fly. He's high, on adrenaline, on sex, on Frank. He tugs his hand free, licking it clean and Frank watches, awe and disgust painted across his features.
"What?" Gerard asks, tip of his thumb still on his lip. "Tastes better than lizard."
Frank's grin lights up his whole face. "Sure it does." He tugs Gerard down for a kiss, slow and lingering, the taste mingling between them. Gerard feels like he could melt all over him, their legs tangled against the cooling engine as he gives back as good as he gets.
He doesn't want to hear it, but he does, the distant hum of motors. He breaks the kiss, sitting up, listening. They're getting closer.
"We should hop. I smell latex."
"And, as usual, their timing fucking sucks." Frank retorts, scrambling up and hoisting his jeans over his ass. The distant engine noise gets louder and Gerard tugs his own pants up. He makes a dash for the Trans Am, climbing into the driver's seat without even buckling up his pants or his seatbelt. He sparks the engine and the moment Frank slams the passenger door he hits the gas.
The radio blasts as they scream down the road, frenetic drums, wailing guitar, snarling lyrics. Gerard's face splits into a smile, red hair whipping in his eyes.
"I like the new doctor. He's got good taste." Frank calls the words out over the blare of the stereo.
Gerard turns his smile on Frank and Frank sends one right back. He still hasn't bothered to buckle his pants either.
"What do you think happened to the old one?" Gerard asks, eyes checking the rearview for headlights and seeing none.
"I heard he had bigger things to take care of." Frank says, not missing a beat.
"Like family?" Gerard's heart skips over the word in a way it hasn't in a long time.
"Yeah. Like family." Frank confirms, with a smile that pinches the corners of his eyes. His fingers brush Gerard's on the gearshift as he reaches for the stereo, sending a tingle up his arm. Gerard smiles, chest ready to burst, the ache he's known too well, too long, conspicuously absent.
Gerard doesn't know, can't know, their ultimate destination. But he knows who he's travelling with, and that's all that matters for now.
Frank cranks the volume. The music blares, and the world blurs as they speed down the road.
~end
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