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Moonlight Model

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Frank has been snapping pictures all fucking day. He started with things: the wrapping paper, the new camera bag, the cookies with jack-o-lantern faces. Then he moved on to people: the band, the crew, the fans, all the outrageous, fantastic costumes. Now he’s taking pictures of the hotel: the striped comforter, the shiny faucets in the shower, the view from the fourth-floor window. He finally sits cross-legged on the bed and drags over his laptop, taking the memory card out of the camera.

“Guess you liked it, then,” Gerard says, watching Frank’s face as he downloads the pictures.

“Dude. Yeah.Thank you,” Frank replies sincerely, his forehead wrinkling with emotion. Gerard chuckles under his breath. He loves how very earnest Frank gets about presents.

Gerard kicks off his boots and crawls onto the bed beside him, settling on his stomach to look at Frank’s laptop. “Did you get some good shots?”

“Yeah, man, there were so many great costumes. Did you see that one girl, with the crazy face paint? Let me see if I can find…”

Gerard grins and pillows his head on Frank’s thigh as he scrolls through the photos. Frank’s free hand rests on Gerard’s hair, idly scratching his scalp. Gerard yawns.

“I’m not your puppy,” he mumbles.

“Shut up, you like it when I pet you,” Frank replies without taking his eyes from the screen.

“You can find the picture tomorrow,” Gerard says. “I want to give you the rest of your birthday present.”

Frank shoves the laptop to the foot of the bed, jostling Gerard’s head off his thigh. “Shit, yeah.” He scrambles off the bed and puts his computer on the desk, hurriedly snapping the memory card back into the camera and making sure his electronics are safe before shucking his jeans. Gerard follows more slowly, starting with his socks and laughing when Frank gets tangled in his shirt in his haste to get it off.

When Frank finally surfaces, he pins Gerard with an intense stare. “Wait,” he says. Gerard waits with his hands clenched around the hem of his shirt. Frank reaches blindly for his new camera.

“Can I?” he asks. His eyes are hopeful, but his lips are twisted into a smile that means he knows Gerard will say yes.

Gerard drops his hands and cocks his hip to the side, lifting his chin haughtily. “Want me to be your model, Frankie? Want me to pose for you?”

“As long as your contract is for a nude photoshoot,” Frank replies, grinning. He hops up onto the bed and spreads his legs, widening his stance for better balance as he lifts the camera to his face. He’s looking down at Gerard at a severe angle; Gerard puts on his best magazine cover face and stares straight into the lens. Frank snaps a photo.

Gerard hooks two fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and pulls it to the side, arching his head back to show off more skin. “If these ever leak, I’m going to kill you,” he mutters. “Just so you know.”

“Don’t worry. These are just for me,” Frank tells him quietly.

“Isn’t that what all the sleazy photographers say?” Gerard takes his shirt off, slowly enough for Frank to catch a few frames of the motion.

Frank lowers the camera and gives Gerard his best creepy look. “Hey, who you callin’ sleazy, pretty boy?”

“Take off your shorts,” Gerard says. “Gimme something to look at and maybe I’ll let you take advantage of me later.”

Frank drops first to his knees, and then into a backbend as he wrangles his briefs down and off his legs without dropping the camera. Gerard crosses his arms over his bare chest and waits, amused, for Frank to shift back up on his knees, completely naked.

“Your turn,” Frank says gleefully.

“Seriously,” Gerard says, reaching for his fly, “if these hit the internet…”

“Get your cock out,” Frank cuts in. He holds the camera poised and ready and then Gerard hears the incessant click of the shutter as he undoes his pants and pushes them down his thighs. He waits while Gerard untangles the denim from his ankles, and Gerard’s grateful. Nobody looks good struggling to take off skintight jeans.

Finally, Gerard stands up straight, bare-assed and posing again for the camera. He wraps one hand around his cock, puts the other on his hip, and slowly licks his lips.

“Gonna stroke it for me?” Frank asks. His voice is a little strangled now, Gerard is pleased to hear.

Gerard takes the instruction and begins stroking, bringing himself to full hardness. Frank shifts to the side on the bed, far enough that Gerard’s almost worried he’ll fall off, but he steps down smoothly and takes Gerard’s arm.

“On the bed,” he directs. “On your back.”

Gerard stretches out with his head on the pillow and his legs spread and waits for the click of the camera before touching himself again. Frank continues to give him quiet instructions, telling him to shift his leg, or look to the left, or suck on his fingers.

Gerard trails his wet fingers down his chest, leaving a shiny streak of saliva straight down between his nipples. Frank holds out a hand, gesturing frantically, and Gerard smirks up at the camera.

“What do you want?”

“Your nipples, touch your nipples,” Frank says. “And keep jerking off. And get your dick wet.”

“I don’t have that many hands.”

But Frank’s one step ahead of him. He snatches the lube off the nightstand, flips the cap up with his thumb, and upends the bottle over Gerard’s cock. Gerard catches it in his palm before it hits his dick, slicks his fingers a little to warm it, then grasps his cock again. He tries to keep his strokes slow and even, giving Frank time to snap photos, but all too soon, his breath catches on every upstroke and he can’t resist pushing his hips up into his fist.

“Yeah,” Frank breathes. “Do that.”

Not a hard direction to follow. Gerard thrusts up into his hand, finally giving up and letting instinct take over. He can hear the rapid click of the shutter, but he’s beyond caring what kind of awkward expressions he’s making. He closes his eyes, bites his lip, and Frank moans.

“Fuck, Frankie,” he gasps. “I’m not gonna last.”

“Yeah, fuck, do it,” Frank tells him. “I wanna see you come.”

“You sure?”

“We’ve got all night. Gimme this one for the camera.”

Gerard grins and squeezes once, tight around his cock. Frank gets back on the bed, on his knees, and hovers over Gerard, but it’s a big, black lens staring down at him instead of Frank’s soft eyes. Gerard pinches one of his nipples, like Frank had asked, and groans loudly.

“I’m gonna come,” he says. “Let me see you.”

“You can see me.”

“Let me see your face,” Gerard clarifies. “Please, c’mon, Frankie, please.”

Before Gerard can even finish his plea, Frank bends over him, camera shoved aside, and thrusts his tongue into Gerard’s mouth. Gerard grabs Frank’s hair, holding him there while they kiss frantically, and Gerard can feel the slick head of Frank’s dick against his hip, and he almost wants to reach for it, but he’s too close to coming to even seriously consider letting go of his own cock.

Gerard twists away from Frank’s mouth to moan and Frank takes the opportunity to sit back up on his knees. He goes for his camera again.

“Yeah, baby, come on,” he says. “You look so fucking hot like this, Gee. Come on, do it.”

A rush of white noise in Gerard’s ears drowns out the sound of the clicking shutter as he comes—he only realizes Frank is still taking pictures afterward when Frank nudges his legs and arms into a more aesthetically pleasing position.

“What’re you doin’?” he slurs.

“Takin’ pictures,” Frank replies smugly. “You’re a fucking hot mess now.”

Gerard reaches out and wraps a hand around the back of Frank’s thigh. “Yeah, well. C’mere. Mess me up some more. Haven’t given you your birthday blowjob yet.”

Frank swings one leg over Gerard so he’s straddling Gerard’s chest. He holds his camera in one hand and his cock in the other. Gerard pushes up on his elbows, lifting his head and looking up at Frank through his lashes.

“Oh, fuck yeah, I’m totally taking pictures of this too.”