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Fic: James Cameron Got It Wrong (4/6)
***
"Are you fucking crazy? It's too dangerous. Hell no, Poison. Hell fucking no. That's not what we do." Ray's voice is nearly falsetto in pitch, which means he's really fucking wound up about something.
Frank pads into the kitchen where he and Gerard are locked in what looks like a pretty fucking serious argument.
Gerard says, "Tommy was our last lead to find the hardware. There's pretty much zero chance anyone else out there is gonna have it, let alone be ready to trade it, not with all the raids. And even if they did, we don’t have anything left to trade for it."
Ray ploughs a hand through his curls, frustration in the movement. "We've got the bikes, the Trans Am. We could hock those 'til we come up with something."
"You know we're fucked if we give those up, Star. They're the only thing keeping us on the run and alive."
Ray looks up from his hands, braced wide on the counter. He looks lost. "I fucking know that." His voice sounds too soft.
"What are we fighting about?" Frank asks, eyes bouncing between the two of them.
It's a surprise when it's Mikey who answers. Frank hadn't even noticed him in the room, perched up on one of the benches with his boots resting on the top of the broken dishwasher. He's leafing through a magazine called "Murder", seeming uninvolved in the discussion. "Poison wants to break into B.L. industries to try and use their hardware to send you home. Star thinks it's a shitty idea."
Ray chimes in, "It is a shitty idea."
Mikey turns another page, still not looking up from the magazine. "Dude, don't tell me, I'm fucking Switzerland here."
"You don't think we should be trying to get Ghoul back?" Gerard argues, and Frank's chest caves in a little. He never thought he'd be jealous of himself.
"We are trying," Ray grits out.
"Well obviously this course of action is getting us nowhere, so I am proposing a new one."
"Which I am voting down."
"Fine. Vote counted." Gerard tosses his head, turning to look at Mikey. "Kobra?"
Mikey's eyes stay glued to the page, but he's eerily still as he simply repeats, "Switzerland."
Both Ray and Gerard turn their eyes on Frank then, and the combined force of their looks nearly has Frank taking a step backwards. Oh, great. He's the tie-breaker. He doesn't even know the full plan and he's going to have to call it.
"Is it possible?" he asks.
"Yes." Gerard nods decisively. Frank turns to look at Ray, questioning.
"In theory," Ray admits.
"Is it dangerous?" Frank asks.
Ray's already nodding, but Frank's waiting for Gerard's answer. "Yes," he says finally.
"Can we pull it off without any of us dying?" Frank asks, this time asking Gerard in particular.
"I believe we can," Gerard says, looking as earnest as he ever has and Frank knows he truly believes it.
Frank thinks about what he'd do if it were his Gerard who was trapped in some parallel time, in a world where they're a couple with years of history behind them - what would he do to get Gerard back?
Whatever it takes.
His heart squeezes up as he looks at Gerard, thinking about what could be. No - what will be. This is his future. Them, together, and it's surprisingly not shocking to Frank to realise that he wants it - this - them. Fuck, he wants it, now.
He doesn't want to wait. But the sooner he gets back to 2005, the sooner he can have it.
All those thoughts rattle through his brain, but in the end not one of them makes the decision for him. It's the look in Gerard's eyes, the belief.
That's what has him saying, "Fine. Let's do it then."
No, he's never been able to say no to Gerard.
***
It's a fine plan in theory: fiddle with the tech, see if they can figure out a way to reverse-engineer the time displacement software to bring Fun Ghoul back to 2019, and send Frank back to 2005. Break into BL/ind, run the hacked software on Better Living's hardware, and voila - everyone's back where they belong,
The broad strokes sound fine - that's what Gerard is good at, the big picture. It's the details that are the tricky part.
"It would help if I knew why I had to hack half the fucking code, is all." Mikey's speaking quietly, a sure sign that he's frustrated. He's sitting at the Franken-puter Ray put together, lines of green glowing code open in multiple windows on the screen. Gerard hovers at Mikey's shoulder, rocking from foot to foot like he can't keep still. Ray's underneath the table that holds the computer, fiddling with some wiring. Frank's sitting on his ass on one of the diner booth tables, feeling useless, again.
Mikey turns in his chair to look at Gerard. "If we just use the tech the way it's designed, send Frank back to 2005 - then when the bring-back function kicks in he just makes sure it grabs Ghoul instead. That would be way easier."
"No." Gerard says, sounding very certain. "No, we have to bring Ghoul back first. It's the only way to be sure."
"Be sure of what?" Mikey's voice is low and level, but Frank knows him well enough to hear the exasperation buried underneath.
"That we're sending Frank back to the right 2005."
That gets everyone's attention. Ray slides out from under the computer table, wearing his patented what the fuck, Gerard? expression. "There's a wrong 2005?"
"There are multiple 2005's. And not all of them have Fun Ghoul in them. I mean, ours didn't. Like, Star, do you remember Taste Of Chaos?" Gerard clicks his fingers at Frank, "Frank, what happened the night you got taken?"
Frank shrugs, remembering the lead up to when he first ran into his future self. "There was gonna be a room party, upstairs with Avenged. You didn't go. Pretty sure Mikey and Ray did."
Gerard cocks his head at Ray, "You remember that, Star?"
Ray rubs a hand over his face, looking suddenly tired. "That was a really long time ago now, Poison."
"Niagara Falls, right?" Mikey chimes in, sounding thoughtful, like he's remembering. "Bert brought that absinthe he got smuggled in from... somewhere, and we all got really fucking drunk. God, worst hangover ever. Frank you were throwing up the whole next day."
"Yeah, no. I didn't go to that party." Frank rubs a hand over his face to hide a smile that's threatening. "He's pretty sure even if he hadn't wound up in 2019 he wouldn't have gone either. Not after what he and Ghoul got up to.
"Yeah, you did, remember?" Mikey insists, "Bert was comparing your projectile vomiting to the falls."
"Charming." Frank says.
"You see? It's different." Gerard starts talking faster, excited. "When we sent Fun Ghoul back, Frank's 2005 tangented from the one we remember. So that proves there's more than one. There could be fucking..." Gerard waves a hand, "like, infinite versions of 2005."
Now that's an unsettling thought. What if Frank ends up going back to a shittier version of his life? "Wait, so how the fuck do we make sure I'm going back to the right one?"
Gerard pauses, hand stuck in the air mid-motion. He takes a breath, brow furrowing as he considers his answer. "I've been thinking about that, and I think Fun Ghoul's the key. If we get him here first, we know it's the right one." He turns back to Mikey, "Which is why we have to hack the code to send Ghoul back here first."
Mikey is motionless for so long Frank starts to wonder if he's still breathing.
"Kobra?" Gerard prompts.
Mikey shrugs, and Frank recognises the resigned expression on his face. It's the same one Mikey gets whenever he agrees to get on board with one of Gerard's crazy plans. "Fine. I'll hack the fucking code. On one condition."
Gerard raises an eyebrow, "Hmm? What condition?"
Mikey turns back to the screen, reaching for his mouse. "That you don't ever try to explain this to me again."
***
Frank rubs the butt of his freshly-fired gun against the back of his head. He's got a thin sheen of sweat on his brow and his throat's starting to feel gritty from being out in the open sand for hours. He and Gerard are back up on the ridge again. Mikey and Ray practically threw them out of the diner when Gerard started hovering around the computer too much, talking at them while they're trying to hack the code. Getting kicked out is just fine by Frank, though, he needs the target practice.
He also needs to talk to Gerard.
The ten Power Pup cans are looking worse for wear, battered, burnt and full of holes, scattered around the ridge wherever they last landed. Frank turns to Gerard, "What's say we make this interesting?"
"Interesting how?" Gerard asks, furrowing his brow thoughtfully like he doesn't already know the wager. He's leaning against the back bumper of the Trans Am, the cord for the stopwatch looped around his wrist.
"If I get ten hits in less than twenty seconds - no misses - I get another question."
"Hmmm. Seems a little easy." Gerard glances down at the stopwatch in his hand. Frank's been doing pretty well with his aim, and has been picking up speed. He's already managed nine hits, one miss in less than twenty seconds, so it's a fair bet he can do it. "Ten hits, no misses. In fifteen. One question." Gerard nods, satisfied with the odds.
"One question." Frank repeats, shifting his stance so his feet are comfortably apart behind the jagged line in the sand. He turns to look at Gerard. "No vetos."
A flicker of doubt crosses Gerard's face, almost too quick for Frank to pick up on it. But Gerard still nods. "Okay. Shoot."
Frank lines up, narrowing his focus to just the cans and his guns. From the moment Gerard shouts "Go!" he's moving like his gun is an extension of his arm, fast, precise. He's at the point where he almost doesn't have to think about it - like when he's got a handle on a new chord progression and his hands just move without conscious thought.
When the last can goes flying and Frank calls "stop", he knows he went fast. Damn fast. He's just not sure if it was fast enough.
He holsters his gun, glancing over at Gerard. "Poison?" The name still doesn't fall naturally from his tongue, but he's trying.
Gerard looks up from the stop watch. His grin is a little sideways. "Twelve point seven. You fucker." There's a breathless note of pride in the gentle insult.
Frank throws up an arm in victory, bouncing on his toes and stirring up a small dust storm. Gerard just laughs at him, shaking his head. "You're the worst sportsman ever."
Frank just raises his middle finger, grinning gleefully at Gerard from behind it. "You're just pissed because you lost. Again."
"Fuck you." Gerard says brightly, no trace of malice.
"Later," Frank retorts, reaching out to grab Gerard's hand and tug him to his feet. "First you get to answer my question. No vetos." Even as Frank says the words, his heart starts to trip. He's known since last night what he was going to ask. It was practically the entire point of coming out today, but now that he's actually about to do it, he's a little nervous.
Okay, a lot nervous.
He pushes the squirmy, apprehensive feeling down, wetting his dry lips with his tongue. He doesn't miss the way Gerard's eyes catch on that quick movement, lingering briefly on Frank's mouth. Fuck, this is stupid. He should just say it.
He's still got Gerard's hand in his and his fingers are squeezing Gerard's just a little as he phrases the sentence, keeping his voice as neutral as he can manage. "Why didn't you tell me you and I got together?"
Gerard's brow immediately furrows. "Frank, don't."
He starts to step away, but Frank holds tight to his hand, keeping him there. "No vetos."
It takes a long time for Gerard to meet his eyes. When he does Frank is certain he's seeing the same hot want he's feeling reflected right back at him.
"You know why." Gerard says simply, a little desperately.
"Because it's dangerous? That's bullshit, Gee."
"You're not ready, Frankie. It doesn't happen for another two years where you're from. It's too soon."
"Bullshit," Frank says. "Bullshit I'm not ready. That's just an excuse." Frank doesn't even realise the truth of the words until they're out of his mouth. "You're scared." His voice lifts in realisation.
"Of course I'm fucking scared!" Gerard argues back, wrenching his hand out of Frank's grip and turning away. There's a push behind his words, coloured with panic. "You were the best thing to ever happen to me. Having you, it makes all this-" he waves an arm at the baked California landscape in front of him, "I can deal with all this. As long as I've got us. But it's not. I can't fuck this up for you, for your version of me. I can't take what's not mine."
Frank stares at Gerard's back. His hunched over shoulders. The tangle of his unwashed hair. The way his hands twist in the air, as he talks... well, rambles. He's never looked more like the Gerard Frank knows. The Gerard Frank's known forever.
The Gerard Frank's already in love with.
His own laugh at the sudden realisation startles him. Gerard still stubbornly refuses to turn around, so Frank catches his shoulder, turning him physically until he reluctantly meets Frank's eyes.
"You don't get it, do you Gee?" Frank's grinning around the words, settling his hands on Gerard's shoulders, wondering how he could've been so blind this whole time. Gerard doesn't pull away from the contact, but he doesn't welcome it either, just stands stiffly under Frank's hands.
Frank sucks in a breath, his voice coming out rough. "I'm already yours."
Frank can see the moment Gerard processes the words - the way his eyebrows quirk and his mouth twitches somewhere between confusion and shock. Then Frank's leaning in, sliding his fingers up to cup the back of Gerard's neck and covering his mouth in a kiss.
Gerard's mouth falls open under his, meeting his lips, kissing back with an urgency Frank's not ready for. He was expecting hesitation, but all he gets is Gerard's mouth melting open under his, kissing back hard, his hands sliding up to grip Frank's shoulders, clinging to his shirt.
Frank's just starting to relax, to really let go and fall into it, when Gerard suddenly breaks the kiss, wrenching free.
Frank blinks his eyes open and it takes a moment for his vision to adjust enough that he can focus on Gerard. His eyes are huge, his lips wet, fuck he's gorgeous. "Don't. Frankie, please. I can't. We can't."
"Why not?" Frank throws back, challenging Gerard. "What? Because it's too soon? Because I'm not ready?" Frank takes a step closer, until his chest is pressed against Gerard's. He doesn't hold back, getting right into Gerard's face. "Because I'm fucking ready, Gerard."
He slides his hands up Gerard's arms, skimming over skin and fabric to rest his palms on Gerard's shoulders. They're shifting with every harsh breath Gerard sucks in. He's not moving away from Frank, but he's not moving closer either. There's a crease between his brow and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth. It's like it's taking everything he's got not to move, like he's a grenade Frank wants to pull the pin on, already.
"I'm ready." Frank repeats, tilting his head up and leaning in, until his lips are a breath away from Gerard's. "So just, let me." he whispers, a moment before he kisses him again.
Gerard does let him. He makes a noise that sounds like a whine and his lips meet Frank's, letting Frank kiss him and kissing him back, hard. It's like something snaps or shifts in Gerard and he stops holding back. His hands come up to fist in Frank's hair, fingernails scratching through the short bleached hairs and tangling and tugging at the long locks of his mohawk. It feels good, good enough to have Frank groaning between their lips, his fingers digging into Gerard's shoulders, holding tight.
Gerard turns them around, pressing Frank back against the Trans Am, sandwiching Frank between his body and the hard metal. The crush feels exquisite and Frank moans into Gerard's mouth, his fingers sliding up into Gerard's hair, holding him to the kiss. Frank's feet stumble in the sand, kicking up a dust cloud as he tries to push closer, to lock their bodies together. He just wants to feel everything.
"Gee." he whines between kisses, writhing up against Gerard. He can't get close enough. It's frustrating.
"Okay, okay." Gerard whispers, his lips brushing Frank's on the words. He grabs Frank's hips, shifting their bodies, sliding his thigh between Frank's and then-
"Yes. Fuck, yes." Frank's muttering into Gerard's lips, because that's it. Now he's got pressure right where he wants it. He can roll his hips up into Gerard and it rubs him exactly the right way. He knows it's doing the same for Gerard, he can feel Gerard's hard-on rubbing on his leg, the way he pants into Frank's mouth, fingers tightening in his hair.
"Fuck, Frankie." Gerard groans out, so soft Frank barely hears it. It's weird, but hearing his name and not Fun Ghoul's flips Frank's heart over. He doesn't know why, but he likes that Gerard knows it's him - Frank - 23 years old with a blank spot on his wrist where Fun Ghoul's got the date of their first kiss - their first real kiss - etched - that this isn't just Gerard kissing him back out of habit, or because he's wearing Fun Ghoul's face.
"You know who you're kissing, right?" Frank can't help asking, words rough against Gerard's cheek. He leans back, meeting Gerard's eyes.
Gerard looks dazed and heady with want, but he answers. "Yeah, I do. And I know why I shouldn't be."
"Fuck shouldn't." Frank says, catching Gerard's mouth again in a punishing kiss. Gerard doesn't put up a fight, kissing back hard, biting at Frank's lips, before separating their mouths again. Frank pushes forwards to claim Gerard's mouth again, but Gerard's fingers catch in his hair, holding him back.
"We shouldn't, Frank." Gerard says. His eyes are clenched shut like he can't even look at Frank, his brow furrowed deep. He looks like he's in pain. His breathing is harsh on Frank's lips, fingers tight in his hair. "If we do this now, I'm taking something away from you. From me - the me in your time."
"You don't know that." Frank argues, trying to pull his head out of Gerard's grip. When that doesn't work he rolls his hips instead, until Gerard chokes out a needy noise. Frank does it again, his mouth twitching up in triumph. "Stop thinking so much." he whispers, feeling the tug of Gerard's fingers loosening in his hair and taking advantage, pressing forward, "don't be so fucking scared."
"Frank-" Gerard sounds desperate. Frank catches a handful of his bright hair, holding his head in place, not letting him look away. Gerard's eyes are huge, blinking fast as he looks at Frank.
"Just let me do this," Frank says, leaning in until their lips are a breath apart. "Let me worry about what happens when I get back. Just let me fucking have this, okay?" He refuses to be embarrassed by just how much need is in his voice. So what if he wants this? So fucking what?
"Frank. Fuck." Gerard's slipping. Frank can tell.
Frank kisses him. Hard. Gerard whines in his throat as he kisses back, his fingers gripping Frank's scalp - holding him to it instead of pulling him away.
"Tell me it's okay." Frank whispers against Gerard's lips, sucking Gerard's plump bottom lip into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. Fuck, Gerard's mouth. He always knew Gerard would have a wicked mouth. It looks almost obscene, his lips swollen and wet from kissing. Frank wants to do so much with that mouth. "Tell me you want this."
"You know I want it, fucker." Gerard grinds out, his voice harsh between panting breaths. "I'm trying to be fucking responsible."
"Fuck responsible." Frank says, grabbing a handful of Gerard's hair and pulling him in - a little roughly - and kissing him hard enough their teeth bump. Gerard's mouth melts open under his with a groan and then he's kissing Frank up against the Trans Am, slipping his tongue into Frank's mouth to stroke his.
Frank whines into the kiss, his fingers tightening in Gerard's hair, clinging. Then Gerard's breaks it, muttering "Fuck it." and grabbing Frank by the shoulders, pushing him towards the open rear door and Frank goes with it, letting himself be manhandled until he's stretched out on his back on the warm leather of the back seat.
Gerard crawls in after him, settling in Frank's lap, a delicious weight. "Fine." he says, his mouth quirked up dangerously at the side. "Let's fucking do this."
Frank doesn't know what hits him. Gerard leans down, his hands firm on Frank's shoulders, pressing him into the leather as he kisses the fuck out of Frank. If that's not enough, he's writhing above Frank, grinding down on him, and fuck Frank's so fucking hard. The pressure is good, not enough, but fucking good. Frank fits his hands to Gerard's hips, hanging on tight, fingers curling into the soft flesh above Gerard's hipbones.
"Jesus, Gerard." Frank chokes out, trying to grind up against Gerard, but he doesn't have any wiggle room, he's just got to take it. Gerard's body presses down over his as he kisses him breathless. Frank's hands slide lower, fitting over Gerard's ass, squeezing through the leather. Gerard makes an appreciative noise and rocks down on Frank. It feels really fucking good. Frank squeezes again, pulling down, wanting more.
Gerard breaks the kiss, panting into Frank's lips. It's hot in the car, fucking hot and Frank's already sweating. He starts to pull his shirt off and Gerard tugs at it, nodding and saying, "Yeah, get it off. Shit Frank, show me."
The shirt sticks a little but Frank gets it over his head. As soon as his chest is bare, Gerard ducks his head, trailing his tongue from Frank's neck to his belly button and back up again. His fingers fit firm around Frank's wrists and trace up his arms, then Gerard turns his head, pressing his lips into the crease of Frank's elbow; the elbow of his right arm, still mostly free of ink.
"Fuck, Frankie." Gerard sounds fascinated. Frank looks down in time to see Gerard run his tongue up from his wrist to his bicep. "So bare." His teeth graze the inside of Frank's upper arm on the way back down and Frank can't contain a shiver. He catches Gerard's head with his free hand, tangling his fingers in Gerard's hair as he paints Frank's skin with his tongue.
"I remember you looking like this." Gerard whispers into his skin, shifting his head to trace his tongue from Frank's belly button up to the centre of his chest. Fun Ghoul's got a huge piece across this spot - a web, a bomb, some roses - but Frank doesn't. Not yet.
Gerard sucks at the clean skin, licking over it with his tongue until Frank's squirming under him. It's just not enough contact. Frank's going insane.
"Fuck Gee, come on. I'm dying here," Frank whines, tightening his hand in Gerard's hair to pull him back up.
"Fucking impatient." Gerard complains, but he moves anyway, coming up to kiss Frank again, settling his hips over Frank's in a very deliberate attempt to make Frank lose what's left of his mind. He sucks a breath in through his nose, gripping Gerard's hair as he kisses back, writhing up off the seat to try to rub against Gerard harder. More. It's just not enough.
"Gee, please. Please." he finds himself begging, wet lips sliding against Gerard's cheek.
"Please what? God, it's not like you aren't getting your fucking way here." Gerard's playful tone takes the sting out of the words and he follows them with a roll of his hips that has Frank gasping. He grabs at Gerard's ass, trying to slide his hands down the back of his pants, but they're too fucking tight.
"Come on, Gee." The words come out rushed, more warm air bouncing off his lips in the already too-hot car. "Want to touch you." He tugs uselessly at the waistband of Gerard's pants.
"You never fucking change," Gerard mutters, going for Frank's belt and zip, which - okay, not what Frank asked for, but he's adaptable. He can totally roll with this. Especially when Gerard gets Frank's fly open and slides his hand inside Frank's underwear. Frank goes boneless, melting back into the seat, hips thrusting up to meet Gerard's hand and - oh god. Just. Fuck.
"Fuck, that's good. Oh fuck, Gee. Oh fuck." Frank whispers between gritted teeth. Gerard's hands are shaping him perfectly, his grip just tight enough without being too much, one thumb rubbing under the sensitive head of his dick.
"Yeah," Gerard whispers, leaning over Frank on one elbow as he works his hand over Frank's cock. Frank's eyelids are fluttering a little, but when he can manage to focus his eyes on Gerard's face he can see how Gerard's watching him, the way his eyes are devouring him. "So gorgeous, Frankie. God, I would've loved to do this to you back then." He lifts his hand to his mouth then, and the loss of contact is worth it for the sight of Gerard licking down his palm and fingers before putting his hand back. When he finds his grip again, his palm slides with the wetness and Frank nearly chokes.
"Oh fuck. I mean-" Frank takes a heavy breath, hips bucking up into Gerard's hand. How the hell is Gerard staying so cool when Frank feels like he's falling apart, anyway? Fuck, he has to get Gerard's pants off. Soon. "Why didn't you?"
"What?" Gerard asks, shifting his grip a little and oh god, Frank reds out for a moment, fighting his way back to consciousness.
"Why didn't you do this to me back then? It's pretty obvious I would've been up for it." He forces the words out when he can find enough breath. He starts to grope for Gerard's belt, because this is seriously unfair.
It takes him a moment to realise that Gerard hasn't answered his question. "Gee?" He looks up from where he's fumbling with Gerard's belt to find Gerard looking down at him, eyes thoughtful and a little sad.
"I had to make sure."
Frank blinks. "Make sure?"
"Just -" Gerard bites his lip. "That it wasn't just swapping one addiction for another."
"Oh." The word leaves Frank's lips on a rush of air. He hadn't thought of it like that. He hadn't thought at all, just barrelled in like some kind of young, stupid dickhead. Which is pretty much what he is.
Frank raises a careful hand to Gerard's face, tracing his fingers from the curve of his eyebrow, down his slightly tanned cheek. So beautiful. So fragile. Everything Frank fell for. "So it wasn't-" Frank's voice croaks and he stops to clear his throat. "It wasn't me who isn't ready. It was you. You weren't ready. In 2005, you're not ready."
Gerard looks apologetic. "Not yet. Soon. You won't have to wait long."
Frank kisses him, hard. When he breaks the kiss, he keeps his hands in Gerard's hair, holding Gerard's face close to his, their noses nearly touching. "It's okay. I can wait," he promises, his eyes locked to Gerard's. "Okay?"
Gerard's mouth pulls into a tiny smile. "Okay."
Frank returns the smile with a wide grin that stretches his mouth. "So, you gonna prove you're worth waiting for then?" He punctuates the question with a roll of his hips, watching Gerard's mouth fall slack as he rolls back down against Frank. Fuck he loves having this effect on him.
Gerard sucks in a shaky breath, his fingers tightening on Frank's hips. "Fuck you, Frankie. Fuck you." he whispers, his eyes sliding shut as he tosses his head.
"Promises, promises." Frank retorts, working his hand between them to get Gerard's belt open. Gerard makes a soft mewling noise when Frank gets his hand inside; Gerard's skin is slick with sweat from the hot leather, and it should be gross, but it isn't. It just lends slip to Frank's fingers when he fits them around Gerard's dick and starts to jack him off, slow and satisfying.
Gerard makes a throaty, gorgeous noise and slumps down on Frank, resting his forehead against Frank's cheek, his breath warm over Frank's lips. "Yeah." The word leaks out long and breathy and Frank can't help the way it makes him grin.
"Yeah?" he whispers, tightening his grip, speeding his hand, just a little. Gerard curls into him more, a whine leaking out of his mouth. His hips are twitching, pushing into Frank's hand. He just can't help himself. He's just taking, responding, pushing back - no shame or embarrassment, just want. Frank's entranced.
He tilts his head, burying his face in Gerard's neck and mouthing behind his ear. Gerard sucks in a shocked breath, catching the back of Frank's head in his hands and holding him there, arching into Frank's mouth. Fuck, Frank could get used to this.
"Fuck, I love you like this," he whispers into Gerard's skin, licking the words away a moment later, feeling Gerard's moan vibrate under his mouth. Gerard rolls into his touches, his skin hot, his body liquid under Frank's hands. "C'mon, flip over," Frank says, grabbing Gerard's hip and trying to manoeuvre them in the limited space of the back seat.
He ends up having to let go of Gerard's dick to physically manhandle him onto his back. They don't really fit and their feet hang out the door, but it's worth it to get their bodies aligned. Frank slides down against Gerard, his ass hanging out of his jeans, and their cocks brush; he has to suck in a shaky breath and remember to breathe.
"Fuck," Gerard groans, reaching down to find Frank's dick, then Frank's echoing him, muttering random curses into his neck as Gerard fits his hand around both their cocks, his fingers firm and tight and fuck. Frank can feel the pulse of Gerard's heartbeat in his dick where it's pressed to his. It's incredible. He folds down over Gerard, needing to kiss him, to taste him, to suck on his tongue.
Gerard moans back between their lips. He's so fucking good with his hands, fuck, Frank can't control his hips. He keeps rocking down into Gerard's grip, needing more pressure, more friction. Frank's own hands are sliding up underneath Gerard's shirt, seeking every inch of skin, wanting to touch it all. He palms them down Gerard's back, the leather of the back seat groaning in protest as he slips his hands under Gerard's ass, gripping his bare cheeks and grinding against him.
"Oh Jesus, Frankie." Gerard's fingers falter for a moment as he pants the words into Frank's lips. Frank can't help it, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of Gerard's ass and rolls his hips down again. It feels amazing. But it's not enough.
"Gee..." Frank whispers, fighting the way his arm sticks to the leather to shift his hand under Gerard, to stroke his fingers between Gerard's ass cheeks. "Gee. Fuck. Gee... can we?"
"You want to?" Gerard's eyes are hazy and he's blinking up at Frank slowly, like the question's not getting through.
Frank strokes again, gently, but lower this time, his fingertip grazing Gerard's hole.
Gerard sucks in a sharp breath, hips rocking down, momentarily squashing Frank's hand into the seat. He keens out a high-pitched noise, losing his rhythm on their cocks and just holding. Squeezing.
When he finally peels his eyes open, he just says, "Yeah Frankie. Fuck. Yes. Fuck me." His voice is shot, his lips are wet and his cheeks are flushed as red as his hair. Frank's never seen him looking this undone.
Frank has to reach down, his hand tangling briefly with Gerard's before he manages to get his fingers around his own cock, low and tight, and take a deep breath. Fuck. He's so close to the edge; he doesn't want to just fire off like some kind of inexperienced teenager, but that's what he feels like right now, and being in the back seat of a car isn't helping at all.
"Glove compartment." Gerard says, his voice is still shot.
Frank stares at him for a long moment, the words a total mystery. "Sorry?"
"There's lube in the glove compartment." Gerard arches a brow, looking amused. He points at the glove compartment like Frank doesn't already know where it is.
"Right, right." he mutters, climbing off Gerard to lean between the front seats and reach for the glove compartment. His hands aren't working quite as well as usual. Fuck. They're really doing this. He gets the compartment open and gropes around in it until he finds something tube-shaped. When he pulls it out, it's bright white and BL/ind branded, but it's lube and it'll fucking do.
When he turns back to Gerard, he's doubled over, his leather pants around his ankles and caught on his boots, which he's tugging at the laces of. His hard dick's squished between his belly and his legs and he's still wearing his t-shirt.
Frank snorts out a laugh."You look ridiculous."
"Your face is ridiculous," Gerard throws back. "Give me a fucking hand here."
Frank squats in the foot well, his undone pants falling off his ass. He shoves the lube under his arm and goes for the buckles on Gerard's boots. It's way more complicated than it should be, but between the two of them, they free Gerard's feet and he manages to kick off his pants.
"You want a hand with yours?" Gerard asks, but Frank's already climbing into his lap.
"Fuck no. They're staying on, I can't wait that long."
Gerard looks like he's about to say something, but Frank gets in before he does. Talking is way less fun than kissing and it feels like far too long since they last kissed. Gerard makes a slightly startled noise into Frank's mouth before turning liquid under his hands and just falling into it.
Frank pushes him down into the seat, pressing their bodies together everywhere he can. Gerard's t-shirt is getting in the way of a lot of skin and Frank wants it off already. He leans back, tugging at it until Gerard gets the idea and pulls it over his head. It catches on his chin and when his head emerges his hair's all fucked up. Frank grins at the view and catches a handful of bright red locks, pulling Gerard in to taste him again.
Then they're making out, skin to skin, and Frank can feel everything. It doesn't take long before they're both groaning into the kiss, rubbing off on each other. The leather of the backseat under their bodies squeaks in protest, streaked with sweat.
Gerard catches Frank's hand at the wrist, tugging it from his hair and guiding it down over his chest, belly, hip. When he raises his legs, locking them around Frank's waist, and guides his hand lower, past his balls to his ass, Frank has to close his eyes and just breathe for a moment. Fuck. They're really doing this.
"Lube?" Gerard asks in a whisper. Frank gropes on the seat for it, popping the lid and squeezing a small amount onto his fingers. He leans on one elbow over Gerard, the tiniest tremor in his hand as he reaches down between them to stroke slick fingers between Gerard's ass cheeks.
Gerard makes a low throaty noise, pushing into Frank's hand. Frank leans his body lower until their foreheads are touching and he can feel Gerard's breath feathering over his lips. He teases one finger at Gerard's hole, just gently, and Gerard rocks into it.
Frank can see every reaction as it plays across Gerard's face. His brow furrows, his lips curling down into a pout. "Come on, Frank. Stop playing."
The sulky command just makes Frank want to play it up more, but his patience level is practically zero now. He gives in, sliding a gentle finger into Gerard's ass.
Gerard kisses him, sucking his lips and shoving his tongue home. Fuck, he's so turned on, Frank can feel it thrumming through him. Gerard breaks the kiss long enough to whisper, "More," and Frank has to comply. He slips his finger out, crosses two and slides them slowly back in.
Gerard groans into the kiss, sucking Frank's tongue and rocking down on his hand. He's shifting his hips as much as is possible in the cramped back seat, fucking himself on Frank's fingers and god, Frank's cock is throbbing against Gerard's hip. He just... god, he just wants it.
He sucks Gerard's lower lip hard, grazing it with his teeth before letting go to whisper, "Gee?"
"Now, Frankie. Now. Now," Gerard babbles, sounding dazed, his eyelids fluttering.
Frank doesn't need to be told twice. He slides his fingers out, stroking some more lube over his cock before he leans over Gerard, lining up. The leather squeaks as he shifts. Gerard's legs are still wrapped around Frank's back, pressed warm around his waist and he's spread wide for Frank. Open and ready.
Frank pushes forward incrementally with his hips, until his dick is just pressing at Gerard's hole. It's... fuck. It's kind of a really big deal. He gets stuck like that for a moment, just caught in the enormity of it, until Gerard's hand slides up to cup his chin, one gentle finger tracing down his cheek.
"Hey. Come on, don't keep me waiting." He says it soft, just a little push.
"Yeah. 'Course, sorry. Fuck. Okay." Frank gives his head a shake and Gerard smiles up at him, eyes sparkling with amusement, but he doesn't tease.
Frank rests a hand on Gerard's hip to steady himself, then slowly, so fucking slowly, he pushes home.
Gerard makes a throaty keening noise, his head falling back, his hand sliding from Frank's cheek to fist in the long hair at the back of his mohawk. Fuck. He feels amazing. So tight. So perfect. When Frank's in to the hilt he has to take a moment, hold still and just breathe, He's sweating like a motherfucker, hair stuck down to his forehead, and he can feel everything. God, he's never gonna last.
"Frankie," Gerard whispers, one hand sliding down Frank's back, grabbing a handful of his ass and pulling forward. "Move, baby, come on." He sounds so desperate, so undone. Frank takes a breath, firms his grip on Gerard's hips and starts to fuck him.
Gerard moans louder, pushing his hips back on Frank's cock, pushing the pace. Fuck, Frank's not going to last like this. Her reaches between their bodies, finding Gerard's cock and gripping it in his still-slick hand. He jacks Gerard off in time with his thrusts, their bodies moving messily and noisily against the back seat.
He can't really get purchase, they keep sliding on the sweat-slick leather, until Gerard reaches above his head, gripping the door handle with both hands to keep them steady. Then Frank really finds his rhythm, thrusting slow and constant, unable to tear his eyes from Gerard's. Fuck - the way he's looking up through his elbows at Frank, cheeks flushed, his hair a wreck, red locks stuck wet to his skin. He's groaning and making delicious breathy noises, sounding like porn, and Frank can't. He can't.
Frank's breath catches in his throat. He's doing this to Gerard. He's making him look like this, sound like this. It's like the idea is too big for his brain to process. He gives up on thinking and just drops his head to take Gerard's mouth, kissing him hard as he fucks him, as he jerks him off, wanting so much to feel him come.
He knows it's close when Gerard breaks the kiss to pant and whine into Frank's ear. He can feel it in the pulse of Gerard's dick under his hand, the way he starts to buck under Frank with abandon, cursing and shoving down on Frank's cock.
"Oh god. Oh fuck. Yeah, Gee. Yeah. Come on." He speeds his hand and his thrusts, wanting to see it - feel it - when Gerard loses it.
Gerard's keening in his ear now, throaty and gorgeous and the more Frank speeds up, the more he can feel himself getting closer. He works his hand and hips harder, faster, locking his mouth to Gerard's throat, feeling every breath Gerard takes under his lips. Feeling the long groan he makes as his body stiffens, his dick feeling huge in Frank's hand.
Frank gives one more thrust, one more jerk of his hand and Gerard just loses it, bucking underneath him, cursing and groaning, his ass clenching around Frank's dick as he spurts between them, heat spattering Frank's stomach. His face is distorted with ecstasy, eyes closed, mouth wide open and fuck. He's beautiful, so undone, and Frank can't tear his eyes away.
Not until Gerard blinks his eyes open, grabs a handful of Frank hair and pulls him in for a wet, demanding kiss. He's sucking on Frank's tongue, fucking his ass down on Frank's dick until Frank takes the invitation and starts to move again, hips working of their own accord, shoving forward fast and hard.
It's so hot inside the car that Frank feels lightheaded, every surface of his skin soaked, but its good, amazing. Gerard's loose and pliant below him, and Frank's lost in his mouth, in his body, nothing else exists right now.
Gerard tears his mouth free, lips wet against Frank's cheek as he groans, "Come on Frankie. Want to feel it."
It's all Frank's got. He gets two more thrusts before he comes, bottoming out and groaning, his face buried in Gerard's neck, his whole body shaking with it. Gerard lets go of the door handle, wrapping his arms around Frank and holding him through it, until Frank's muscles give out and he collapses onto Gerard all hot, sweaty and spent.
For a long time all he can do is breathe, feeling Gerard's chest shifting under him, slowly becoming aware of the buzzing insects - the world outside.
"Fuck, Gee," he says, when he's found enough pieces of his brain, "is it always like that?"
Gerard giggles, his chest bouncing under Frank's. "No. Sometimes, it's intense."
Frank laughs too, and it feels light and free in his chest. He's overheated, covered in sweat and completely disgusting with his pants caught around his knees in a way that's probably going to leave some interesting marks, but he's never felt more relaxed.
He pushes up onto his elbows, looking down at Gerard with his crazy red hair and sloppy smile.
"Thanks Gee." He knows he's grinning like a fucking crazy person and he doesn't care. "Nice to know there's something to look forward to." He shakes out his wet hair, spraying droplets on the windows and Gerard's face.
Gerard turns his head away, nose wrinkled up, but he's still smiling.
***
"This is why I stopped having sex with twenty-three-year-olds." Gerard complains as he checks the - really, very small, hardly even noticeable - purple mark on his neck in the rear view mirror.
"No, you stopped having sex with twenty-three-year-olds when I turned twenty-four," Frank retorts, sprawled on the passenger seat. He's still all buzzed-out and floppy. Orgasm afterglow is better than good weed. Fuck, he needs to get laid more.
"We didn't start going out 'til you were twenty five. Your math is flawed."
"Your face is flawed," Frank throws back. He kneels up on the seat, grabbing a handful of Gerard's t-shirt and pulling him in for a lazy kiss. God, he's never going to get sick of this.
Gerard kisses back, languid, slow and gorgeous. Frank's just starting to think it's time for another round when Gerard breaks it. "We should get back. It's getting dark."
"Are you afraid of the dark?"
"When it's dangerous, I am." Gerard's mouth pulls to the side. "Frank can you just be serious for two seconds? Shit goes down out here after dark, I don't want anything to happen to you."
Gerard frowns and Frank suddenly feels way too young. Again.
"Fine." He drops back into the seat, his foot twitching against the floor.
Gerard being Gerard, he identifies it for the sulk it is straight away. He sighs, scratching a distracted hand through his already-wrecked hair. "I'm sorry. It's just..." He drops into the driver's seat, reaching over the gear shift to take Frank's hands, his thumb playing over the blank space on Frank's wrist where Fun Ghoul's 2007 tattoo will be. "This is all kind of a head fuck for me. It's like. It's you... but it's not you, yet. And there's stuff you don't know, and stuff you do, and..."
He trails off, eyes dropping to his fingers, nails cropped short and edged in dust. Frank's used to the Gerard with chewed-down fingernails and chipped black nail polish. Still, he can read this Gerard too. He knows there's something else.
"What, Gee?" he asks, gently. "What else?"
Gerard's shoulders hitch up uncomfortably. He bites his lip, his fingers tightening on Frank's for a moment before he lets go, finally looking up at Frank, trailing his fingertips through the short white-blond hair above his ear.
"It's just. You." Gerard takes another breath. "This is what you looked like back then. I mean." Gerard closes his eyes, seeming to centre himself a moment before saying the next part. "This is the you I fell in love with."
He says it so simply, so honestly, so fucking earnestly, something inside Frank breaks.
"Gee," he whispers, but Gerard just keeps going.
"And back then, I couldn't. I wasn't..." He sighs. "I just never thought I'd get the chance, to like, I don' t know, be with you. Be with this you." Gerard shakes his head, rubs a hand across his face. "Fuck, I know I'm not making sense."
"It's cool, I mean, it breaks my brain too." Frank offers, leaning across the space between them to kiss Gerard silent.
It works, too - for about ten seconds - before Gerard turns his head to the side, words spilling out. "And it's not real, you know? Any of it. You don't belong here, but you do, and you're gonna go back and then I won't have you anymore."
Frank soothes his fingers through Gerard's scalp. "Yeah, and you'll have Fun Ghoul back, and I'll be back in '05 with the you with the long black hair and a makeup fetish." Frank grins at Gerard, squeezing his fingers, gently. "You know, the one I can't have yet."
Gerard gives Frank a small, weak smile. "The one who's already in love with you."
They're just words. But god, the way they fill Frank's chest with warmth. The way they speed his heart right up. He tightens his hand in Gerard's hair, pulling him in for another kiss, hard, hot and demanding. When they break apart this time they're both panting and Frank has no idea how he's going to deal with being around a Gerard he can't kiss. Not after having this.
"Gee-"
"We should go. We should-" Gerard checks his watch. "Fuck. We should really go. Kobra and Star are gonna think we got ghosted."
And just like that Gerard's sliding into the driver's seat, revving the engine and peeling down the ridge. Running zones, avoiding dracs, living out of an old diner on borrowed time. Having to carry a gun.
Frank's pretty sure going back to play the Taste of Chaos tour is the better end of the deal. Still, as he watches Gerard's hands grip the steering wheel, remembers what they felt like, what his lips tasted like, he can't help envying Fun Ghoul what he's coming back to.
***
"Thought you guys got ghosted," are the first words out of Ray's mouth when Frank and Gerard get back to the diner. He and Mikey are still huddled around the computer - which looks like it's being held together with bad welding and duct tape. Mikey spins in his chair, his eyes sweeping over Frank, and then Gerard, from head to toe. Frank used to think Mikey's psychic vision was down to his thick glasses, but it seems he can do it now with his naked eyes.
Mikey turns to Ray. "Told you they were fucking."
"Kobra-" both Gerard and Ray say it with the exact same tone of dear god I don't want to talk about it. Mikey just shrugs.
Frank giggles, refusing to be embarrassed by this, even if his ears feel a little hot. "So what if we were? You guys should've taken advantage - run of the place and all."
"Oh we did." Mikey says airily and Frank can see the way Ray's head turns, trying to hide his blush behind his 'fro.
"Anyway," Ray says loudly, obviously looking to turn the subject. "We made some progress with the software."
"You did?" Gerard says, looking excited. He walks over to stare at the numbers on the computer display which Frank really can't imagine making sense of.
Ray explains, "Well, we've managed to identify the source and destination codes. So we should be able to isolate the scan information from the source and attach it to what should be the destination, except we'll hack it to make it the source."
"Okay, you lost me at 'well'," Frank says.
"In English?" Gerard asks, hopefully.
Mikey waves a hand. "The problem is that we need to trick the machine to bring Fun Ghoul back, not send him out."
"Right."
"But the tech's only designed to send out - with the bring back built in. So we need to trick the machine to think it's sending Ghoul out from 2005 to come here, and when it goes to bring him back, we make sure it gets Frank instead."
Frank tries to wrap his brain around that notion. It's still kind of slippery. "You might need to draw me a diagram."
Mikey sighs and rolls his eyes. Now that's the Mikey Frank's used to. Not this tech-spouting, knows-too-much Mikey.
"Details aside - can we do it?" Gerard asks, the question directed at Mikey.
Mikey turns his eyes to Ray, who's standing by the computer, leaning on one hand. "There're a couple of down sides."
Frank's stomach sinks. No doubt this is the part where he finds out he might land in an alternate universe where the band bombed and now he's a mechanic. Or that he could end up with his head on backwards. Or something.
Ray continues, "Well first off, we need to be able to pinpoint Fun Ghoul's exact location in 2005 down to like, a hundred yards - the closer the better - at whatever time we want to try to extract him."
"Preferably when he's not on stage, in front of a whole bunch of kids," Mikey adds. "Because that would probably freak people out."
"Way to state the obvious, Mikes," Frank says.
Mikey just stares at him. "You still want that diagram? 'Cause I'm starting to feel less artistic all of a sudden."
Frank sticks his tongue out at him and Mikey doesn't laugh, but the corner of his mouth pulls up a little.
"Guys?" Gerard asks, an edge of frustration creeping into his voice.
Frank rolls his eyes. "Okay, fine. So shows are out. Next best bet is trying to figure out where we're gonna be sleeping. I guess tour bus is out, because we don't have a fucking clue where they're gonna be parked." Frank bites his lip, thinking hard. "Next hotel night's in two weeks, on the thirteenth in St Louis. Wait - how did Fun Ghoul know which room I was gonna be in last time?"
Gerard shrugs. "He didn't. He was just gonna go to reception and pretend he lost his key."
"Huh. Smart."
"Yeah, but it's not gonna work this time, because we need to point the tech at the right place, or it might not find him at all," Ray says
"Okay, so we need to figure that out. You said down sides. Plural. What are the other ones?" Gerard still looks very determined.
"Other one, really." Ray drops back into the rusted old deck chair. He shoves his hair out of his face and looks up at Gerard and Frank. "Frank's going to have to come with us to BL when we raid the tech."
The lack of reaction to that statement is a reaction in itself. Frank takes a steadying breath. Well, fuck. Guess all that target practice won't go to waste.
"Why?" Gerard's voice is carefully level.
"Because we need to scan him. He and Fun Ghoul scan identical and Ghoul isn't here to scan, so we need to do Frank, then point the data to wherever Ghoul is in 2005 - so we can bring him back."
"Can't you just use the scan data from last time?"
"Well for one, we don't have it. And for two, you scanned him with his clothes, his gear and his weapon. Which Ghoul doesn't have right now. We can't scan anything he doesn't have on him anymore." Ray explains.
"So James Cameron was right." The realisation pops out of Frank's mouth the moment it registers. Gerard and Ray turn to look at him, confused. "I'm gonna have to go naked. Like in Terminator."
Mikey snorts, "Way to focus on the important stuff, Frank."
"My junk is totally important." Frank flips him the bird. Mikey's response is to wrinkle his nose at him.
"Guys?" Gerard's starting to sound really annoyed now.
"Sorry." Frank grins, not even bothering to pretend to be sorry.
"So what, we bring Ghoul back and he's gonna land on his bare ass in the middle of BL? That doesn't seem like a good plan." Gerard directs the comment at Mikey.
"Don't worry, I'm working on a script to send Ghoul here instead of BL. Since you've got me rewriting all the fucking code anyway." Mikey rolls his eyes, but the way he says it, Frank can tell he's pleased with himself. "I'm also gonna push up the displacement period to like, a five hour window. That way we'll have time to get back to the diner and Ghoul can fill in Frank on all the 2005 shit before he goes back."
Frank's never gonna get used to tech-head Mikeyway, when half the the things he says go flying over Franks head - but Gerard obviously got it all. He's smiling at Mikey, looking a little awed. "Good. Fuck, that's good, Kobra."
Gerard turns and paces the floor, staring at the space between his feet, his hands resting loosely on his waist. Suddenly he stops, turning around so fast his hair hits his cheek, to look at Ray. "So that's it? If we can figure out what room in what hotel and Frank doesn't get his ass killed on the BL raid we can do this?"
"That's a lot of 'if's," is all Ray says.
"So was getting out of Battery City. And we did that." Gerard meets Ray's gaze easily.
"True enough." Ray nods, catching Mikey's eye. Mikey just inclines his head, his own nod almost imperceptible. Then all eyes are on Frank.
"Hey, I'm in. You know I'm in." He was in before they even wanted him in, damn it. He glances over at Gerard, who's looking concerned, but determined. Still, he can't help the nervous prickle that runs over his skin when Gerard nods, confirming it. He doesn't have time to analyse Gerard's reaction though, he's turning again, pacing again, his boots scuffing the concrete.
"Great. So how the hell do we figure out what room you're gonna be in, in whatever hotel in fucking St Louis?" It's clear from his tone that the question is more hypothetical, but Frank answers anyway.
"You know who'd fucking know? Brian. He'd at least know the hotel, I bet. Where the hell is he?" As usual, the words are out before Frank's even finished thinking them. It takes Frank a moment to realise that no one's answered.
When he looks up, Ray looks stricken and Mikey's expression is carefully blank. He can't see Gerard's face because he's facing away, but there's tension visible in every line of him.
"Fuck, he's not dead is he?" Frank wants to kick himself the moment he asks, because fuck, in the future he totally could be.
Gerard turns around slowly. It takes him a long time to meet Frank's eyes. "He's not dead. It's just..." He doesn't finish the sentence, scratching a hand through his hair and sighing. "What makes you think he'd even have that information after 14 years, anyway? Seems like a long shot."
Frank shakes his head, "Nah, that OCD fucker kept everything. Fuck, even if he didn't, it's worth a try - he's got a memory for this kind of shit. Do you know where he is?"
Gerard exchanges a glance with Ray, looking like he's searching for the right words. He looks back at Frank, his expression carefully neutral. "Things didn't end well, with us and Brian."
"Oh." The word drops from Frank's mouth before his brain catches up. "Hang on - things ended?"
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