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New town, new neighborhood, new neighbors, new home.

Frank shuffled to the kitchen, wincing slightly at the pristine countertops. He couldn’t get used to the dark granite counters and green tiles on the walls. He was still expecting to wake up, see his old and shitty apartment and his almost always empty wallet. He completely expected winning the lottery to have been a dream.

But it wasn’t. He had this nice two bedroom house now, with a real backyard for Jax to run around in. Even all his furniture was new. Everything smelled like a store and it would have offended his senses if he wasn’t used to everything smelling like mildew and dog piss.

He had been greeted by most of his new neighbors, a few bringing him some homemade meals that he had stowed in the fridge. One neighbor had stuck out in Frank’s mind.

Gerard Way.

While all his other neighbors were well over fifty, he was still in his late twenties. He had told Frank he was an artist ‘of varying mediums’ (whatever that meant), and a lover of comics and horror movies.

Frank wasn’t sure if it was that that made Gerard so interesting or the fact that he had seen him trying on a skirt one day.

He had come home from volunteer work sick, his allergies never giving him a moment of peace and the group leader sending him home, when he saw Gerard through the guy’s bedroom window.

He had been wearing a black skirt, far too big for him by the look of it, when Frank spotted him. The curtains had been partially opened and Gerard’s back was to the window.

Frank felt like a pervert.

He also felt like a pervert when he starting actively hoping he’d see Gerard wear a skirt again.

He got lucky three days later.

It’s really Gerard’s fault anyway, he reasoned with himself, peeking passed the curtain and into Gerard’s bedroom. He’s the one who isn’t closing his curtains. I mean, anyone could just look in.

Gerard was standing, once again, with his back to the window. Frank could see his reflection in the mirror, his long hair hiding most of his face. He was wearing red briefs, so bright red Frank would say they were cherry in color, and he was pulling a skirt up his legs. A flowy thing, dark navy in color and making his skin look like milk.

He slipped it up over his thighs and ass, covering his underwear and zipping it closed. It slipped down low on his hips, the waistband of his underwear being exposed. He watched Gerard twist and turn, inspecting the skirt from every angle in his mirror before shaking his head and unzipping it.

It fluttered to the ground and Gerard stepped over it, vanishing from view. He returned a moment later, dressed in black jeans and a pale pink shirt, and looked into the mirror. He fixed his hair and vanished again.

Frank waited, seeing if he would come back but he didn’t. He sighed and walked away from the window, out to the kitchen.


Three more times over nearly a month, Frank spotted his neighbor trying on skirts. Each one was still too large for him and Frank was convinced he must have been getting them from a thrift shop or something similar.

Frank wasn’t sure if Gerard even knew he was being watched or if he even cared if he did know. He always had the curtain to his bedroom only partially closed and changed directly in front of the opening, almost like he was doing it on purpose. He could never see Gerard’s face clearly, the two backyards separating the windows were too wide and Frank’s vision wasn’t the best. His mother had told him to get his eyes checked but it never impeded his work so he never bothered.

He wondered if maybe everyone in this neighborhood had some secret kinky side. He shook his head with a shudder.

He did not want to know if any of his elderly neighbors, like the nearly eighty year old Hill’s across the street, had sexual kinks. That was way too much information and his brain did not want it at all.

Gerard, though. That he could get on board with. He was a very attractive man, and very friendly. Frank had run into him at the local park on numerous occasions while he was out walking Jax and he was always willing to share the bench and a smoke while Jax played with a few other dogs.

It was from those smoke breaks that Frank learned about Gerard, and vice versa. He knew Gerard wasn’t married as he didn’t wear a wedding band but he did not know if he was single. He always felt like it was never his place to ask. He always stuck to safe questions. Frank never wanted Gerard to stop talking and he was always racking his brain for a new topic just to hear his voice and watch the way he moved. He used big sweeping motions and had a glimmer in his eyes when he was really passionate.

Frank was falling in love with the sound of his voice. And the shape of his mouth. And those pale thighs he loved catching glimpses of.

He had woken up with a hard on and his hand down his boxer briefs on more than a few mornings. His dreams were always vivid but fleeting, just snatches of pale skin and a pink mouth. His brain filled in the blank spots with blurry details but it was always more than enough to get him off quickly.


He stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his hair on his way to the kitchen. Jax’s bowl was nearly empty.

Grabbing out the bag of dog food, he scooped out a cup full and poured it into the bowl. He picked up the water bowl and rinsed it clean before adding fresh water and placing it back on the floor.

“Jax, breakfast,” he called out, waiting to hear the little dog’s nails clicking over the tiles.

The house was silent.

Frank frowned, walking to the living room and calling the dog again. The dog was nowhere to be seen. “Where the fuck is he?” he asked the room, getting no answer.

He walked to the back door and opened it, peering around the back yard. “Jax? Here boy!” he called. Walking out to the edge of the back porch, he spotted the little white dog.

Jax was lying next to Gerard’s back door, sleeping.

Frank rushed over to the fence, leaning over and calling to his dog again.

Jax ignored him, continuing to sleep.

“Little fucker,” he cursed. He looked down to the fence. It wasn’t particularly high. He could easily climb it and grab the dog but he didn’t want the other neighbors to think he was trying to rob the guy. In broad daylight, none the less.

He huffed out a breath and trotted back inside. The back door slammed shut and he flinched, making a face. Slipping on his Vans, he stuffed his house keys into his jeans, grabbed the leash from the hook by the door and left, locking the door.

It was a quick walk around to the other side of the block and up to Gerard’s front porch. Frank looked at the window, seeing the curtains closed. Maybe he’s not even home, he thought. Better check. He knocked quickly and listened.

There was silence for a few seconds before Gerard’s voice came through the door.

“One sec! Um, just a second!” Frank took a half step back before the door opened and Gerard’s startled face peeked through. “Frank? W-what did you need?” He opened the door wider, revealing a dark navy bathrobe.

Frank could see a white button up under the robe, the collar sticking out like a sore thumb. “Oh, yeah. My dog somehow got into your backyard,” he started, looking to the ground for a second. Gerard’s legs and feet were bare and he wondered if he caught him about to shower. “And I was wondering if you’d mind if I ran around and grabbed him?” he asked, looking up again.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Gerard moved away slightly, adjusting his robe.

Frank caught a snatch of deep purple and black and his point of interest was suddenly changed entirely to Gerard. He reached out and grasped Gerard’s wrist, having the older squeal slightly and flinch.

“F-frank? What are you doing?” he asked, trying to step back again. Frank moved with him, stepping passed the threshold and into Gerard’s living room. “Please don’t,” Gerard whined as the robe was moved away, revealing the item underneath.

“Don’t what?” Frank asked. He pushed the front door shut with his foot and dropped the leash to the floor.

Gerard backed up until his ass was pressed again the sofa and Frank noticed he was shaking. “It’s-it’s just something stupid. I-I’ll never do it again,” he whimpered as Frank untied the loose belt. The robe fell open and Frank saw the skirt.

It fit Gerard properly, unlike all the other ones he had seen him trying on through the window. It stopped about halfway down his thigh, purple with a black plaid pattern over it and a thick black leather belt around the top. Gerard’s shirt was loosely tucked into the waistband and Frank thought it looked perfect on him.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Gerard said, near tears.

“What?!” Frank’s head snapped up, eyes wide as he looked into Gerard’s scared ones. “Why would I hurt you?” Frank asked. Gerard’s body was trembling and Frank placed his hands on the couch beside his hips. “I’d never hurt you, not unless it’s your thing. Like, if you had some fantasy about being bent over a table or your couch and spanked.”

Gerard nearly choked. His body tensed and Frank felt like he not only overstepped his boundaries but dove head first into a lawsuit. “You… don’t care that I’m wearing a skirt?” he asked cautiously. He had gripped the front of his robe, still covering most of his shirt and he flinched when Frank’s fingers brushed his exposed thigh.

“It’s your house,” Frank chuckled and looked down to their feet. He let out a breath, relieved that Gerard wasn’t going to call the cops. “You can wear whatever floats your boat. And,” he nudged his knee in between Gerard’s, “truth be told, I’ve kinda been watching you try skirts on for about a month now.” He looked back up, watching Gerard’s cheeks turn pink. “I find it hot,” he whispered, sliding his fingers up and feeling the smooth, bare skin. “I’ve kinda been fantasizing about fucking you in one.”

Gerard went silent, licking his lip as Frank’s fingers slipped under the skirt. They worked their way towards his inner thigh and up and Gerard let out a breath.

Frank stopped his fingers when he reached the bottom of Gerard’s underwear, his eyebrows knitted in confusion. “What the…?” He didn’t feel the normal cottony feel of the briefs he knew Gerard always wore but something… different. Almost like- “Lace?” he asked, fingers skimming over the soft fabric and reaching his half hard cock. He smirked when Gerard moaned. “When did you start wearing panties?”

“T-today,” Gerard breathed. His breath hitched when Frank twisted his hand, palming his dick lightly and curling his fingers under his balls. “Jesus.”

Frank leaned in, pressing close and nuzzling Gerard’s neck. He took in his scent, the almost flowery smell of his shampoo and the citrus of his body wash. He heard the robe fall to the back of the couch, a soft fwump that was barely audible over the low moan Gerard let out. He scrapped his teeth down Gerard’s neck, making him shiver and his hips jerk forward. “What do you want?” he asked.

“Fuck… Frank, I-“ Gerard whimpered.

His tip was leaking and Frank could feel it peeking out from the top of the tight panties. He slid his palm lower, fingers pressing behind his balls and scratching at the fabric. “Tell me what you want,” he purred.

Gerard gripped his biceps and rutted against his hand. “Fuck me,” he breathed, squeezing Frank’s arms.

Frank moaned, low and deep, and pulled his hand away from Gerard’s cock.

Gerard turned around quickly, yanking the skirt out of the way and over his back. He hummed when Frank rubbed his ass, fingers dipping under the panties and down towards his balls.

Opening his jeans quickly, Frank shoved them down his hips, his boxer briefs scrunching up around the top. He grabbed the panties, pulling them sharply to one side and Gerard yelped.

“Don’t fucking rip them. You want to see me in them again, right?” he spat, glaring over his shoulder.

“Definitely,” Frank said. He leaned over Gerard’s back, his cock sliding between Gerard’s legs, and stuck his fingers in Gerard’s mouth. “Now suck.”

Gerard moaned, loud and obscene, and closed his eyes. His tongue swirled over the digits. Frank nudged his knees farther apart and pulled his fingers free, spit dripping down Gerard’s chin. He worked two fingers into Gerard, slowly stretching him open and making him groan. His fingers tightened on the back of the couch, knuckles turning white. “Now, please Frank,” he whined.

Frank nodded, feeling Gerard shake around his fingers and he pulled them out. “Yeah, okay,” he said, nodding again. He spat on his hand and slicked his cock up. Holding the panties to the side, he lined up and pushed in. Gerard hissed and he slowed down, sinking in slowly until he was pressed up against his ass.

“Y’know, I was jacking off when you showed up,” he groaned, hips twitching forward against the couch. “I was thinking of you and your tattoos. Wondering how many more you have under your clothes. Wondering what your skin taste like and if the ink makes a difference.”

Frank gulped, hands gripping Gerard’s hips tightly. Gerard started pressing back into him, letting out little breathy moans. Frank pulled back farther, thrusting in deep and taking him by surprise.

“I knew you were… were watching me,” he said, voice breaking in the middle. “I saw you.”

“Fuck,” Frank groaned. He pressed Gerard closer to the couch, knowing his dick was still trapped inside the lace. “Keep talking. Your voice, Jesus fuck.”

“I didn’t know if you’d like lace,” he panted, hips rolling back to meet Frank’s. “I hoped that you would.” He jumped, hips jerking forward roughly when Frank reached around and started palming him again. “Fuck- I have satin too,” he whined, back arching.

Frank pushed the panties down, exposing his cock and stroking it. “Love to see you in those,” he said. His legs were shaking and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the center of Gerard’s back.

Gerard gasped, pushing forward into Frank’s hand and then back onto his cock. “You feel so good. So… so good,” he moaned. His body tensed and Frank could feel him clenching around his cock before he came onto Frank’s hand. “God, so good.”

Frank forced himself back up, gripping Gerard’s hips tightly and using shallow, quick thrusts. Gerard was shaking and whimpering, back arching and his head thrown back. He looked like sex to Frank’s eyes. He pushed back roughly, taking Frank in deep with a soft yelp. Frank moaned, squeezing Gerard’s hips as he came.

He pulled out before he was done, cum seeping down Gerard’s ass and to where his panties were stretched tight over his balls. He panted, watching as the panties grew wetter. “So, you have satin ones too?” he asked, releasing Gerard’s hips and taking a small step back.

Gerard hummed, adjusting his panties and turning to face him. “Yeah, I’ll show you them next time,” he said. His cheeks were pink and he swiped his hair from his forehead. “I have black ones and red ones.”

Frank pulled his jeans and underwear back up, leaving them unzipped and holding the waistband. “Could you show me today?” he smirked.

“Don’t you wanna leave anything for a surprise?” Gerard asked.

Frank shook his head, watching Gerard slip his hand under his skirt. “I wanna see everything you have to offer.”

“In that case, follow me,” Gerard smiled and shuffled down the small hall, Frank trailing close behind.