Gerard grips his pencil harder, trying to keep the lines of the panel clear in his head and ignore Frank's insistent voice.
"Gerard. Gerard. Gerard."
"What?" Gerard mutters, eyes glued to his sketchpad.
"Look up for minute." Frank says, his voice muffled, which probably means his mouth is smushed into his hand which is holding that fucking camera Frank hasn't put down in days.
"No." Gerard frowns down at the drawing in front of him, his pencil tip hovering over a line that's going to be the curve of an elbow. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth. There should be a wrinkle in the cloth just about-
"Gee. Gerard. Just for a second." It's official. Frank's voice is the most annoying voice on the planet.
"No." Gerard repeats, scrubbing the back of his hand across his face and nearly stabbing himself in the eye with his pencil. He does not look up at Frank. He's overtired and his eyes are all gritty. He got what, two? Three? Hours sleep last night. It's inhumane to expect him to deal with snap happy Frank right now.
"Gee..." Frank draws out Gerard's name into one long syllable, trying to make it sound cute. It really just sounds annoying, because Frank is annoying and Gerard is going to stick this pencil right in his-
"Seriously Gee, this light is killer. Just look at me for one second."
"Oh my god no."
"Why not?" Gerard doesn't have to see Frank's face to know he's pouting. He can hear it.
"Because if I look up, you're gonna take my fucking photo and I've barely slept and I haven't shaved in days and I look like fucking shit right now. So no, Frank. Please go away." Gerard takes a breath, trying to relax enough that his hand's not twisted up from gripping the pencil so tight. He calls the panel back into his mind, projecting the lines and shapes on the page in front of him, lowering his pencil tip to the clean white surface.
He's ignoring Frank. He's ignoring Frank.
"Gee, you're fucking beautiful."
Gerard's pencil skids across the paper.
Something in Frank's tone makes his heart flip over and he forgets that he's ignoring him. He tears his eyes from his sketchpad, needing to see Frank's face, needing to know if what he heard in his voice was real.
Except all he can see is a fucking camera lens, with Frank's tattooed fingers wrapped around it. He's squatting on the floor of the studio like he's a wildlife photographer and Gerard is a fucking Iberian Lynx.
The camera shutter snaps loudly as Gerard glares down the lens.
"Wow, this light is fucking amazing. Lemmy from Motorhead could look good in this light."
Lemmy. From Motorhead.
"Gee, don't scowl. This isn't a sleeve for Teenagers. Try to look... dreamy."
Gerard scowls harder. "You just compared me to the ugliest man in rock and roll."
"Ugliest?" Frank gives a noncommittal hum, his fingers shifting on the focus ring,"It's a toss up between him and Rob Zombie, I think. Come on Gee, think romantic."
Gerard's thinking a lot of things and none of them are romantic. Like whether or not he could kill Frank using only the power of his mind. He thinks he could. Well, maim him at least. "I'm not feeling it, Frank."
"You don't have to feel it." Says Frank the fucking talking camera, "Just act. Pretend this is a music video."
"No. No. It doesn't work like that. I can't just." Wow he is totally talking to the lens of a camera and he totally doesn't have to be. "Oh my god, go away." Gerard flaps a hand in the direction of Frank and the camera and the overall annoying presence in the room.
It doesn't make Frank leave, but he does lower the camera to look at Gerard, wearing an expression of severe thoughtfulness "Huh."
"What?" Gerard barks, long past being nice, or even polite.
Frank's mouth pulls to the side. He's chewing on his lip where his piercing used to be. "So what you're saying is, you're a method actor."
"No. Yes. What?" Gerard would really just like to go back to drawing his comic now.
Frank doesn't appear to have any respect for such plans. He hangs the camera around his neck by the strap and knee-walks across the carpet to where Gerard's sitting. Gerard follows his progress with narrowed eyes until Frank's kneeling beside his chair, one hand still loosely holding his camera.
Gerard takes a breath to ask the obvious what the fuck question, but before he gets it out, Frank lays a hand on his shoulder and pulls Gerard forward, nearly tipping him out of his seat, as he leans in and kisses him.
Gerard makes an unsexy mmph noise of surprise against Frank's lips, blinking at the unfocused blur of Frank's hair and not actually kissing back because what?
The thing is, Gerard not kissing back doesn't slow Frank down at all. He slides his hand up to cup Gerard's cheek, fingers all warm and firm and fuck. He's kind of a really good kisser. And kissing is one of Gerard's favourite things to do. Even more than drawing.
Oh, fuck it.
Gerard stops trying to figure it out and just rolls with it, letting his eyes fall shut, tilting his head to fit his lips more firmly against Frank's as he kisses back, slow and smooth. Frank makes a low, approving noise that vibrates against his lips, and then he slips his tongue into Gerard's mouth, kissing him deep, wet and gorgeous.
A little high pitched moan leaks from Gerard's mouth as he strokes Frank's tongue with his own. He drops his pencil and grabs Frank's shoulder, his thumb rubbing a circle on his collarbone through his t-shirt. Fuck, Frank's so warm. Gerard kisses him harder, pressing closer, needing more.
Frank's hand slips from Gerard's cheek to his shoulder and it takes Gerard a moment to realise the steady pressure he's feeling is Frank pushing back. He tries, and doesn't quite succeed, at swallowing the disappointed whine he makes when their lips part. But Frank doesn't pull away, he stays in Gerard's space, wearing a soft smile. Gerard blinks at him, feeling dazed and fuzzy-headed. Frank lifts his hand, swiping his thumb over Gerard's wet lips.
"Hold that thought." Frank whispers, his voice throaty and deep, but so gentle.
Before Gerard even has a moment to consider the request, Frank scoots across the room. He kneels back in his original position on the floor and raises his camera. He snaps off a handful of shots before Gerard starts to fit the pieces together. He shakes off his kiss-daze, awareness dawning.
"Hey-" He tries to sound indignant but Frank shushes him with a waved hand. He's back at Gerard's side in a moment, turning the camera around to show Gerard the display on the back.
"Oh." Any words Gerard had are lost as he stares at the image. The lighting reallyis killer, bathing one side of his face with glow, rim light painting a halo around the edge of his hair. His stubble looks unconsciously chic, his skin alabaster and he doesn't look tired at all. But it's his expression in the photo that steals his breath. The warmth in his eyes, the soft curve of his mouth, the want and longing written all over him. Everything he's never told Frank captured forever in an image.
His cheeks are getting hot. He doesn't want to keep looking at the too-telling image, but if he looks up he has to face Frank and he doesn't think he's ready for that either.
Strangely quiet, Frank tugs the camera from Gerard's hands. He puts it aside carefully, with Gerard's sketchpad. He takes Gerard's hands in his and pulls him to his feet. Gerard's run out of reasons not to look Frank in the eye now, so he just does it, and the warmth in them is like a punch in the chest.
"I told you." Frank says, reaching up to push a loose lock of Gerad's hair behind his ear. He leaves his hand resting on Gerard's cheek, one thumb stroking gently over his cheekbone. His eyes are warm on Gerard's face.
Frank's not teasing, in fact there's no needling in his voice at all, just truth, when he says, "Fucking beautiful."
This time, Gerard kisses him first.