:Frerard: Gerard is trying to show Frank his love with no interruptions [Contains adult conent]
Maybe it wasn’t sex itself/, but the idea that he was going to be naked and uncomfortable and inexperienced and self-conscious in front of someone he loved and admired was one that froze him in place every time the opportunity was presented to him. And, really, it shouldn’t have been difficult to just…/do it. Lights off, pants down, a few minutes of friction and weird noises- bam. Done. Of course there was the post-experience clean up, but that was an afterthought. It was kind of just like masturbation…with another person. Or something.
But if that was the case, then why did he freeze up every time Frank’s hands slid to his belt? Why did his breath hitch in his throat with surprise and he apologized again and again and felt so damn stupid for keeping his boyfriend from the simple pleasure and closeness they both wanted? Because it was more about closeness than actual sex. And they’d done almost everything between little pecks on the cheek and whatever step came just before complete nudity. Gerard may have been quiet, introverted, shy and naïve to the point of childishness, but he was no stranger to the bruised lips and cat-scratches of makeout sessions, the awkwardness of dry-humping on their beds while their parents were out, and the messy hand-jobs that required a change of pants and a quick trip to the sink. But if his internal sexual radar told him that more than their hands were going to be involved, you’d better damn well believe that Gerard was out.
And it always happened at the last second. The kisses grew deeper, more passionate, their fingers digging into each other’s hips while they ground against each other, the sharpness of their jutting hip bones pressing into their skin. Gerard would even be sure he wanted it, wanted it to the point where he was sure he didn’t care anymore. Frank’s hand would slide into his pants and that was okay, because he actually enjoyed that part. The hand screwed around inside his underwear for a while and it was fine. But when the hand pulled out of his underwear and started to push down on his jeans…the lust disappeared, replaced by a sudden pang of terror. And, of course, he’d move Frank’s hand, stare at the sheets and stutter out that he couldn’t, because it just wasn’t the right time. Gerard felt like an idiot, because if it wasn’t the right time, then why did he always head to the bathroom, trusty bottle of lotion in hand, the minute Frank left? He wanted to have sex without having sex, and he had yet to figure a way around that.
“Hey, cutie,” Frank answered the open door with a grin, intentionally flicking on his internal flamboyant switch. He wrapped his arms around Gerard’s waist as he entered the house and gave him a light peck on the lips, bouncing onto his tip-toes in order to do so. It wasn’t that Gerard was tall. Actually, Gerard was only five foot seven. Frank just happened to be five foot two. The fleeting thought, ”Napoleon would be proud” frequently floated across the exterior of Gerard’s brain. He returned the kiss and smiled softly as he leaned his forehead against Frank’s, the two of them rocking back and forth gently, swaying with hands on hips and arms around necks as if they might dance. They stood in the hallway for a moment, basking in the warmth, the scent of their separate inoffensive colognes wafting into their noses. Frank pulled one of his arms away from Gerard’s neck and gave his backside a gentle squeeze, smirking against Gerard’s lips.
“You look hot today,” he rumbled in a low voice, his voice reminding Gerard of the rumble of water flowing over rocks. Gerard kissed Frank’s forehead and stroked his hair. It was getting long. The usually short locks now waved down towards his ears, disheveled and sexy.
“You look hot every day,” he smirked. There was something about standing there- just standing there- that made him feel so entirely human/. Life felt simple, as if they were children again. And in those few moments they didn’t think about school or parents or the past or the future. There was only…/then. And the time was water that simply rushed around them while they stood rooted in place. As it always should have been. Frank returned his arm to its place around Gerard’s neck and delicately nuzzled his face into the crook of Gerard’s neck, feeling the softness of the skin against his nose, the texture of the other boy’s t-shirt against his cheek. Gerard pressed his lips to the top of Frank’s head, the tiny hairs quivering slightly as he exhaled through his nose. Innocence.
The taller boy turned his head so he was leaning on his cheek bone. He said in a low voice that emphasized his New Jersey accent, “Wanna go downstairs, baby?” Frank nodded against him, slightly sleepy from the warmth of their bodies and the warmth in the hallway. They grasped each other’s hands- intertwining their fingers and pressing their shoulders together like sweet couples do- as they walked down a short flight of stairs to the basement where Gerard’s room was. They opened the wooden door covered in band posters to the point of obscurity, entered the musky-scented room and sat down on Gerard’s low bed. It was a routine, something they always did, something they didn’t want to not do. Gerard fell onto the bed first, landing on his back and pulling Frank on top of him. He smirked as he planted a few light pecks on the other boy’s lips, pushing his fingertips into his thighs, the denim of his jeans firm against the pressure. Frank wriggled on top of him, finding a position he would lay where Gerard’s sharp, jutting pelvis bones weren’t digging into his skin and he could support himself while he gently pecked at the other boy’s lips. He positioned himself between Gerard’s legs and held himself upright with his elbows on the bed, then leaned down and gently worked his mouth against Gerard’s.
And this is what they did. They didn’t sit and talk- they did enough of that over the phone and at school. They didn’t go out anywhere unless it was free- the two of them were completely broke. They just laid on one of their beds and kissed, each letting the other know the hot, flaming passion that burned like a low flame within their insides through their mouths and tongues and hands. The emotion seemed to…almost /push and pull/. It came, swelling inside them both like water filling a balloon. Then it drained, tugging at their insides longingly, demanding the affection and the contact from the other that they both so desperately wanted. It was almost as though it was a wave, coming and going as the emotion swelled and shrunk. Currently, with both their eyes lidded as they kissed gently, their lips making gentle, wet sounds as they pressed and pulled, Frank’s hands behind Gerard’s head and Gerard pushing his hands upward into the curve of Frank’s backside, the emotion was most certainly in high-tide.
Gerard opened his mouth to accommodate Frank’s tongue. He felt the taste bud-studded muscle enter inside and begin working against his own. Gerard’s hands gave a firm squeeze on Frank’s flesh before trailing up his back and under his shirt. The muscles of his back felt so strong, so firm; like two long, taught ropes beneath his skin. A sudden heat- a comfortable, thick heat- enveloped them as if someone had been delicately covered with a blanket. Tongues pushed farther into mouths, cheeks becoming sore from opening and closing. Somewhere upstairs they heard one of the doors open signaling someone was home. They didn’t care. That room was a place where no one could bother them, where no one could interrupt the awkward touching and kissing. Frank pressed their middles together; he could feel the pressure of Gerard’s stiffening sex against his leg, hear their breath becoming more heated, hurried, as fingers grasped skin, clothing. His own hardness was pressing against Gerard and he knew the other boy could feel it, knew that soon he would tire of the repetitious kissing and move his hand towards the fabric.
Because Gerard didn’t like repetition- Frank knew this. He knew that this boy didn’t like to use his effeminate artist’s hands to draw the same pictures over and over; in fact, if the drawing was taking too long, if there were too many of the same lines, he stopped and started something new. If the route he walked to school met his feet one too many times, another route would surely be found. Gerard refused to surrender to the mundane. If they kissed too long, his hands wandered. If Frank was panting into Gerard’s ear, his mind blurred with the hormone cloud and of pleasure, the other boy would take the hand inside Frank’s pants and gently squeeze until he made another sound.
Which is probably why Gerard seemed to hate it so much whenever they had to stop. His cheeks would flush and this sort of agitated aura emanated off his body when he would push Frank’s hand away, when he would try to explain. It felt old, stale, used. And yet it was the same.
And Gerard could feel Frank’s stiffness against his leg and he wanted it- wanted more than just awkward, sloppy fists in their jeans and tongues in their mouths. He wanted it so badly but the very thought of trying to unbutton Frank’s pants, to leave the both of them completely naked, sent his heart into a spasm of nervous horror, the blood seeming to slosh around inside the organ like waves during a storm. So he tugged at the shaggy brown hair, pushing the boy’s head in as they bruised their lips, concentrating on the sensation he had rather than the sensation he wanted. But the pressure of lips on his was suddenly lessening, pulling away. He felt Frank push back against the hand on the back of his head. Gerard stopped and stared for a moment.
“…What is it?” he finally coughed out, the apprehension and nervousness coating his words like molasses. Frank tore his eyes away from Gerard’s and he bit down on his bottom lip. Gerard felt his heart tremble.
“I just…” Frank began, his voice sounding so small. “…I don’t…I really, really want this, Gerard.” The pressure on his leg was suddenly more prominent. “I love you. Don’t you…love me?” He laid himself down gently on Gerard’s chest and started biting on his already short fingernails, chipping the black nail polish. And that’s what that was about. Not the sex, not the pleasure. It was the doubt/; the boiling, nervous, fearful /doubt of their relationship. Gerard pulled Frank up closer to his face, letting his head rest on his shoulder.
“I love you, Frankie,” he whispered, the words almost hissing in the room that was suddenly so noticeably silent. Gerard was almost pleading. “I love you, I love you so much. I just get…scared. I don’t know…I want to, I do/, I just…” He trailed off and gave the other boy a tight squeeze. The panic had dulled, but was still there, still hiding in his insides. He could feel that Frank was thinking, sense the weight of his thoughts, but didn’t know what it was about. The only sound was of their breathing and the occasional /click as Frank nipped off part of his nail. The pressure on his leg was gone. After a few minutes of almost physically heavy silence, a sigh escaped through Frank’s nose.
“But I love you so much,” Frank squeaked. In contrast with his usual dominance, he sounded so tiny, so child-like. “I just…I want you. I want you so much sometimes. I want to make you all to myself.” He was rubbing his thumb over the skin on Gerard’s neck, the tip brushing against his jaw-line. Gerard turned his head and kissed Frank’s hair, taking the hand into his own.
“I want you, too,” he replied in a low voice, a sexual voice. The smell of Frank’s hair filled his nostrils, the smell of product and cigarettes. He kissed the hair again and leaned down into Frank’s ear. The tide was coming in again, filling that invisible balloon. “I want you so badly /right now./” The sensation of lips on his neck was suddenly more than evident. A breath of air graced his skin.
Gerard breathed out, the air hitting the shell of Frank’s ear. He felt the boy shudder.
The pressure was back on his leg. And this time he wasn’t afraid. The fear had been buried somewhere inside him, somewhere numb. Frank looked up and pressed his mouth against Gerard’s, almost immediately filling his mouth with his tongue. There was no hesitation this time. With a groan, Frank was pulled onto Gerard, fingers digging into his hips. Teeth met teeth unromantically, animalistically. Breath flowed unevenly into one another’s mouths. Tiny groans and pants escaped their lips. Gerard reached down between their meeting torsos and unhooked Frank’s studded belt. The movements were quick, thoughtless, as if thinking about them for too long would awaken the currently dead fear that had only recently plagued the recesses of his brain. Frank imitated Gerard’s movements and unzipped the boy’s pants, the bulge popping through the open fabric. Gerard gasped into Frank’s mouth as Frank reached into Gerard’s pants and pulled out the half-hard organ, exposing it to the cool air. He pulled out of their kiss to glance down nervously before pulling out his own. Gerard bit his bottom lip and looked down quickly. They were about the same length, although Frank was harder than Gerard. At the sight of Gerard looking him over, Frank’s erection jumped.
They gently pulled their faces together, kissing ever so delicately, as they pressed their exposed middles together. Upon contact, they both gasped. Every nerve was on fire, screaming, begging for more. Frank grasped Gerard’s hip with a free hand. He exhaled against his lips, heart pounding with anticipation…and started to move.
Nothing compared. Nothing in this world. The pleasure they had felt before was nothing compared the this. With their obstructive clothing, the pleasure was dulled, and no matter how much they ground together, it was difficult for them to finish. But this…everything was exposed, sensitive. They could feel the skin moving between them, feel the wetness begin to smear across their torsos. Gerard groaned into Frank’s mouth. He reached across his back and pulled his shirt over his head. Both of them were completely naked from the waist up after a moment. Frank pushed his hand into Gerard’s thigh, bringing it around to the front of his body, thumbing the dark and coarse hair that grew there, grazing the thickness and hardness of the base of his erection. Their breathing accelerated as they ground their hips faster. Warmth and stickiness was rubbing against their skin, tightness was forming inside their deepest muscles. Gerard grasped Frank around the neck.
“Oh, please,” he moaned against his skin. “Faster…I’m…almost…” He jerked his hips wildly, thoughtlessly, his eyes rolling back into his head. He heard Frank curse and groaned weakly into the air.
”Gerard…” Frank gasped. The sound of his voice weak with pleasure was simply the most amazing thing Gerard had ever heard. “Oh-…oh my God…” His voice was throaty, uncontrolled, as if he was simply taking fragments of thought and letting them pass his tongue. The closeness to their release was almost painful, the muscles throbbing and aching with need. They were almost there, almost finishing together, almost experiencing that ultimate closeness. Gerard gasped out Frank’s name and clutched him as he felt his own warmth come, filling the space between them with wetness.
Gerard came first. Frank came the second before Gerard’s mother opened the door.
He heard her scream, ”GERARD!!” before he pulled the blankets over their warm and sticky bodies and yelled out the first thing that came into his head. It didn’t make sense, it wasn’t at all true, and he had no idea where it came from.
“THIS ISN’T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!”
Frank was still coming down from his orgasm and too busy buttoning up his pants, his face flushed red and his heart retreating into his stomach, to hear what Gerard’s mother said. Or rather, yelled. He caught profanities from both parties and had the sudden urge to ask if she was going to tell his parents. Probably.
“IN THE /HOUSE/, GERARD-”
“IT’S NOT LIKE WE’RE ALWAYS-”
“-AT LEAST BEEN QUIET ABOUT IT-”
“-OUR /FIRST GOD DAMN TIME!/”
Gerard pulled on his shirt, their fluids drying uncomfortably on his abdomen, zipped up his pants, and stood up. Frank was staring at the ground. He heard Gerard’s mother huff.
“Listen,” she began, her voice firm. “I don’t mind that the two of you have feelings for each other, in case you’re wondering. You can like whoever you like. But I do mind that the two of you were down here having sex. Gerard, your brother is thirteen, what if he had come home instead of me? He doesn’t need to be hearing that.” Gerard’s cheeks suddenly felt hot. His mother sighed and turned to Frank. “Frank, I won’t tell your mother, but you two had better not do it again. I think you’d better head home.”
Frank looked up and muttered a quiet, “Okay”. He quickly and carefully planted a small peck on Gerard’s cheek and gave him a helpless look before whispering his goodbye and making his way upstairs. After a moment the sound of the door slamming was heard. Gerard didn’t want to look at his mother. He looked at the carpeting instead.
“I’m not mad at you,” she said suddenly. He still didn’t look up. “I just think you need to be careful. Wait a little while.”
“…I was trying to show him how much I loved him,” he muttered. His mother sighed and folded her arms.
“There’ll be plenty of time for that. You don’t need to rush. If he loves you, he’ll understand.” He didn’t say anything. She looked around the room awkwardly. “Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. Come up then. Michael’s at a friend’s house tonight, but your dad’ll be here.”
Gerard felt relief wash over him. He had been caught at the end of climax and there was no real consequence. A few harsh words, maybe, but that was all. His mother started to leave the room and he went to sit on his bed. Not only did he get out unscathed, but he and Frank were closer than ever. The bond between them felt as strong as steel. He held back a smirk at the moment of perfection.
His mother stopped in the doorway.
“Gerard?” she asked.