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Meltdown

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It's been a busy and occasionally frustrating couple of months of trying to coordinate festival and tour dates with Comic-Con dates and with Grant's book tour appearances. Gerard doesn't regret it, though, because it's worth it - he's so fucking proud of Grant he swears he could burst, and Frank goes through every one of Grant's events that they're able to attend with the same expression of slightly wondering glee.

This one at Meltdown is different, though - it's their home turf in a way, and he's moderating, ain't that some shit. There are so many things he wants to say to Grant, about Grant, wants other people to know about Grant—that he can barely contain it all. He's been scribbling notes in a moleskine for weeks, just to get the thoughts out. In case he thought neither of them had noticed, now that he's holding it - fine, clutching it like a lifeline - Grant suddenly wants to see it, even though they already talked through the Q&A last night. In bed, not that anyone attending has to know that.

Okay, fine - Gerard's nervous, and he's got Frank up in his face trying to steal the book out of his hands and Grant watching them both with an amused little quirk to his mouth. Of course he's going to tease. He's waiting to see what Grant does about it.

Finally Grant asks, "Are you going to be able to behave yourself, Gerard?" Not Frank. Gerard.

It's a tone of voice Gerard and Frank rarely hear out of the bedroom, and Gerard shivers hard, but he can't help challenging, "I don't know; find out."

Frank and Grant both stare at him with varying expressions on their faces - shades of evil or thoughtful smirks, both of them - and Frank goes over and whispers in Grant's ear. Grant chuckles and kisses him. Slow. Appreciative. "I do like the way you think, darling."

Yeah, that doesn't bode well for Gerard.

"Clothes off, Gerard," Grant orders. Gerard lets his breath out in a big gust of air and does as he's told until he's standing naked in front of them. They both stare at him hungrily until Gerard can't help but squirm a little bit. Grant smiles. "On your hands and knees on the bed, love."

Gerard gets up on the bed and kneels with his ass facing them. Frank makes a tiny noise like he's holding back a moan and it's Gerard's turn to smirk. But only for a second because then Grant slides his hand down Gerard's back and over his ass. He really has no clue what they have planned. Spanking isn't something they've done much of, but it's not outside the realm of possibility. He breathes out his nose and tries to relax. He'll take whatever they give him.

Frank sits on the edge of the bed near his head and runs his hand through Gerard's hair. He bites his lip and leans into Frank's hands, his fingers pressing into Gerard's scalp, massaging. Gerard hears Grant moving behind him, but Frank's making him melt. And then Grant's fingers slide down his ass and he presses one inside. Gerard gasps and bites his lip.

"What, now?" he asks when he gets his breath back. "Don't we have places to be?"

"You're right, we should speed things up," Frank says and stops touching him. Gerard regrets his words.

And then Grant adds another finger. And his tongue.

"Shit shit shit," Gerard breathes, trying not to move his hips too much.

"Don't even think of coming yet, Gerard," Grant orders. Gerard bites his lip hard and looks up to see Frank rummaging through their toy drawer. Gerard can see that he's hard in his pants, but he's not even touching himself. Gerard is vaguely proud of him for half a second before Frank pulls a red plug out of the drawer.

Frank looks up and over at Grant, and Gerard can't see Grant's face, but he can hear the caressing tone of his voice when he says, "Perfect, Frank. Come here." Frank lights up at the praise, and Gerard's dick jumps again. He wants that.

Once Frank crosses behind Gerard, he can hear them still but can't see them - he can hear them kissing behind him, and he's fairly certain at this point that he's going to die. Then Frank's hand is sliding over his ass and he pushes a finger inside Gerard alongside Grant's. Gerard hauls in a huge breath and lets it out slowly. No fucking way is he going to be able to hold off. "Fuck," he whispers to the bed.

"Not until later," Frank singsongs. Now who's a fucking tease?

"Not unless you're good," Grant adds. Then all the fingers are gone at once, and the plug is pushing in instead, and Gerard can feel the stretch but he sort of loves it. He wants to push back into it, but he knows he's supposed to stay still, and then it's in anyway, and one of them twists it a few times experimentally. The only thing he can make come out of his mouth is a rough, guttural noise, and someone's hand caresses his spine. Grant says, "Get up and get dressed, my love."

And then it hits him; he's going to be spending the next several hours like this. That's what Frank wants, what Grant wants. And he's done it before, but never in public. Never where he was required to talk and be coherent and somewhat professional. "Fuck," he moans again. But he does as he's told. He gets up, slips his clothes back on, feeling the plug with every single movement. Feeling them watch every single movement.

Frank steps close enough to take Gerard's face between his hands and kisses him, softly and really fucking thoroughly, and says, "Make me proud, baby." Grant draws Frank away and kisses him, and then curls a hand around the back of Gerard's neck and says, "Show me how good you can be."

Gerard can be good. Gerard will be good.

Driving to Meltdown is the most exquisite torture. Every bump, every turn, even just the thrum of the wheels on smooth pavement feels more intense. Gerard has to breathe through his nose nearly the whole time, sure that the next moment, next breath will mean coming. He catches a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror and he's astounded at his own reflection. He's bright red and sweating a little and he looks - "Grant," he breathes. "Grant, I -"

Grant changes the subject smoothly, asking Frank when he thinks Ray, Mikey, and Alicia will arrive. Gerard swallows against a dry throat and clutches his notebook tighter.

They pull up behind the shop and Gerard is really fucking grateful for the tinted windows, because there's a pretty big line and he is not at all mentally prepared for that many people yet. Thank god there's still enough time before the Q&A that they can hide in the back room for a little while.

Getting out of the car makes Gerard gasp. He can't help it. Fuck, he has to get control of his reactions. "Easy, babe," Frank whispers to him, rubbing his shoulder. It doesn't really help. Being touched really, really doesn't fucking help. Being inside in front of people he doesn't know does, though. Walking out in front of all those people and sitting down helps too. Gerard holds in a gasp and things get going. Suddenly he feels like he can act again, perform, he’s even got his band in the back too. Maybe he's starting to zone a little but he's still got his book.

On the other hand he's got Grant two feet away from him, smiling and joking and oozing charisma from every pore, and it's torture but he knows, just knows he's being good. He can tell from Grant's face, from the little approving glances no one else would notice, that Grant is pleased, that Grant is getting off on this too. He feels hot; he runs fingers damp with condensation from his water bottle over his cheeks, knowing they're red, and then he can't stop touching - his face, his hair, fuck.

It's bearable until Grant reaches out - why, Gerard has no idea; if it were Frank Gerard would suspect him of wanting to add to the torture, but Gerard thinks that Grant simply can't help himself - and runs his fingers through Gerard's hair. Gerard chokes, and Grant immediately draws his fingers back. He whispers in Gerard's ear, "If you can make it through the signing, love, I promise I will let Frank suck you off on the way home." Gerard whines under his breath, just loud enough for Grant to hear, and Grant adds, "I'm still going to fuck you, Gerard. That toy isn't going anywhere until we're back in our bedroom."

When the signing is about to get underway, Gerard realizes that there are several kids hanging around that are there basically for him, for them, really, since the rest of the band is there too. He doesn't particularly want to leave Grant, but this is Grant's night, so he gestures for them to follow him outside.

He actually manages to sign stuff and chat with people and answer questions and be normal, though. He's pretty sure that's a miracle of some sort.

Eventually they go back inside and hang around, waiting for Grant to be done. He's obviously not in any kind of a hurry. He's deliberate, takes his time with each person he talks to, doesn't rush through signing. The way Grant doesn't really look at him tells Gerard he's doing it in part to make Gerard squirm.

Finally, finally, it's time to go and when they get to the car, Gerard nearly begs for Grant to kiss him. All he gets is a tiny brush of lips and a whispered, "Get in the back seat with Frank."

Gerard opens the door and Frank grabs him, pulling him inside. Frank pulls Gerard close, kissing the shit out of him and trying to find a comfortable position. Frank makes a frustrated noise and finally he gives up and kneels on the floor behind Grant and unbuttons and unzips Gerard's fly.

"It's a good thing I'm small," he mutters.

Grant laughs from the front seat. "You're perfect."

Gerard is beyond laughing; he's as hard as a rock and on an entirely different plane of being; everything feels a hundred percent more intense - the drag of Frank's hands up his thighs, the snap/release of his jeans, the fabric sliding down. Frank's tongue, slipping out to lap at the head of Gerard's cock, which is flushed dark red and leaking like crazy. It feels better, but it's still not enough. "Frankie, please," he begs as Grant pulls out of the parking lot and turns onto the road.

Frank smirks up at him and then swallows him down as far as he can. Gerard fucking keens, it feels so good. His hips come up off the car seat. He's trying to hold himself still so he doesn’t hurt Frank, afraid that the moving car will send them off balance, but Frank's hands are strong and solid on Gerard's thighs. It's Gerard who's off balance. He can’t seem to say anything but Frank's name, and sometimes Grant's. Grant is listening; Grant talks him through it, telling him what a good boy he was, how beautiful he looked all flushed and undone, how he and Frank are so fucking distracting and how Grant can't wait to get home.

Finally he can't take it anymore. Frank's mouth, Grant's words, the fucking plug in his ass, everything ramps him up more and more until he's coming down Frank's throat, pumping his hips. Frank seems prepared for him, though, moves with him. Gerard collapses back against the door, panting, and Grant says, "I'm not done with you yet, my love. Either of you."

"You better not be," Frank says. He shoves at Gerard's legs until he's sitting normally in the seat and sits in the center seat next to him. The movement reminds him, again, that he's still got the plug in. It's not quite as urgent as before, but holy shit, he is so ready to be fucked.

Frank cuddles close, fingers smoothing idly over the denim still covering Gerard's thighs. He's seemed a bit too quiet all evening, and Gerard wonders if he's a tiny bit jealous. This was Frank's idea, after all. He must be imagining it - what it feels like have to control himself, to have a toy in for that fucking long. Imagining the desperate need to be fucked as soon as humanly possible. If Gerard knows Frank at all, he’s sure Frank’s feeling that a little bit anyway.

Thinking of reversing their positions and giving Frank a taste of his own medicine, while Frank strokes gentle fingertips over his thighs, is enough to send Gerard off into his own head for the rest of the drive.

Grant steers them both right out of the car and into the bedroom, no fucking around. "Do not pass GO," Gerard murmurs, and Frank giggles quietly, nervously. Gerard shoots a sideways look at him. He's hard - has been hard at least since he went down on Gerard, probably - and looking a little glassy-eyed, but he's not touching himself either.

Grant tugs Frank close and smooths a hand over his hair, down his back. "You've been good too," he murmurs. "So patient. Taking care of our boy in the back seat. I could see his face in the mirror, Frankie, you made it so good for him." Frank gasps when Grant runs his hands over Frank's body and cups his dick through his jeans. "I promised him I'd fuck him," Grant continues in a whisper. "Can you wait for us?"

Frank nods mutely, and Gerard whimpers, hands clenching. He wants everything in equal measures, fuck, and he's not even hard again - yet - but he wants to bury himself in Frank, watch him arch and moan.

Grant steps over to where Gerard is waiting and wordlessly starts undressing him. He stops every so often, when Gerard's eyes start drifting around the room, and lays a hand against Gerard's cheek. "Concentrate, my love. Just a little while longer." He gets Gerard's clothes off and starts in on his own. Then Gerard can concentrate, attention focused on Grant, fingers arms belly hips cock, everything. Naked. Hard. His.

His, and Frank's.

Frank's hands close around Gerard's upper arms and he steers Gerard to the bed, easing him into the same position he'd been in just a few hours ago. Frank's gotten naked too, and once he's got Gerard placed the way he - or Grant - wants him, he leans back around the bed pillows. His cock is directly in Gerard's line of sight, one tattooed hand curled loosely around the base, and Gerard can't look away.

“I wanted to go slow,” Grant says, hands settling gently onto Gerard’s hips. Gerard shudders. “I wanted to take my time and fuck you until you were begging.”

Grant gets into position, settling onto his knees behind Gerard. “But I don’t think I can.” The bottle of lube clicks open, there’s a pause, and then Grant murmurs, “Deep breath, Gerard.”

That’s the only warning Gerard gets before Grant removes the plug and thrusts in deep. Not just deep - the whole length of him in one thrust, and the sound that escapes from Gerard’s chest isn’t even close to a word. He lets his head drop, closes one hand around Frank’s ankle and one around a fold of the sheets and holds on.

Grant’s not holding back, fucking Gerard hard and fast and exactly the way he likes it. Each thrust sends a fresh wave of sparks through Gerard. He’s getting hard again, without any friction, without anyone to touch him, and he chokes out Grant’s name. “Wait, love,” Grant rasps, “Just wait, I - fuck, fuck, Gerard.” He folds down over Gerard’s back and Gerard can feel him come, his body stuttering till he’s wrung out, and he murmurs Gerard’s name again and kisses his neck and shoulders. Gerard turns his head so their lips catch, and murmurs back, “Grant. I - fuck.” He’s a little in disbelief, still; the whole unbelievable night narrowed to one utterly familiar thing - the three of them and their bed.

The three of them. Gerard looks up at Frank, who’s still watching them hungrily, hand now clamped tight around the base of his cock. “Your faces,” he whispers. “God. I want -”

Gerard gasps in a breath when Grant pulls out, but Grant doesn’t actually move, just steadies himself with a hand on Gerard’s back. He’s still breathing hard, but Gerard twists around and kisses him hard and deep anyway, then pulls back and says, “I’m going to - I want to -”

Grant nods, and Gerard kisses him one more time then crawls across the mattress to Frank.

“Frankie, wanna fuck you,” Gerard tells him. “But you’re gonna have to - can you ride me?”

“Can I?” Frank asks, eyes going dark and intent. “Hell yes, I can.” His voice is gravelly, half-breathless just from watching them, and Gerard moans quietly into his mouth as he leans in for a kiss.

Gerard doesn’t want to stop kissing Frank, but he does briefly so he can lie down. Frank doesn’t let him get too far, leans in to kiss him again. Gerard can feel how hard Frank is against his thigh. He grabs Frank’s hip and tugs insistently and Frank swings his leg over Gerard and straddles him. Gerard puts his hands on Frank’s sides, then slides them up his back, pulling him down so their chests are touching. When Frank gasps into his mouth, Gerard knows Grant just touched him. Frank pulls back.

“I don’t want—” he chokes on his words.

“I know what you want, Frank,” Grant tells him. Then Grant’s hand is on Gerard’s cock, slicking him up. He sees Grant’s hand on Frank’s hip and apparently what Frank didn’t want was prep, because Grant is holding his cock and keeping Frank steady as he slowly, slowly sinks down.

“Fuck, Frankie,” Gerard groans, squeezing Frank’s hips in his hands. “You’re so...” Gerard trails off, sucking in a breath when Grant’s fingers brush his balls.

“You’re so good. You’ve been so patient, waiting this long. So proud of you,” Grant murmurs in Frank’s ear. Frank clutches at Grant’s hand at his hip, pulls it so Grant’s wrapped more closely around him.

“Proud of you,” Frank says and finally sinks down the rest of the way, taking Gerard’s whole length in. Grant nuzzles Frank’s neck and tightens his arm around Frank’s waist. “Both of you. So fucking amazing.”

Gerard starts moving his hips then, pushing up into Frank again and again and again, and Frank pushes down onto him. Frank’s got his mouth hanging open, his head lolling back against Grant’s shoulder. Grant looks at Gerard.

“He’s been so good,” Gerard gasps out, “You should suck him.”

Frank moans. Grant smiles, kisses Frank’s neck, and moves out from behind him. Gerard sighs happily, loving that he can see Grant’s body now, can watch as he takes Frank's cock in his mouth and starts sucking.

Just watching it would be hot enough but feeling the way Frank’s body reacts to Grant’s mouth makes Gerard moan with Frank, makes Gerard thrust when Frank’s hips buck. Between the two of them, it doesn’t take long for Frank to come. Gerard can see Grant’s mouth working, see him swallowing. When he pulls back, licking his lips and raising an eyebrow at Gerard, Gerard pulls Frank down against him, kisses him hard, and starts pumping his hips harder, faster.

“Come for us, love,” Grant orders, and Gerard does with a shout. Gerard’s eyes are closed and he’s breathing hard. He just feels it all for a second: the weight of Frank on his chest, the small kisses he’s dropping wherever his mouth can reach, Grant shifting and moving next to them. Gerard wants to look, but he’s so tired, drained from the whole evening. He can’t seem to open his eyes.

A minute later, Frank moves; they gasp at the same time when Frank pulls off his cock. He settles down next to Gerard on the bed, wrapping himself around Gerard and clinging, arms and legs, lips still kissing him everywhere, and then there’s a warm, damp cloth cleaning them up. Gerard finally manages to open his eyes, to watch Grant tend them with such care.

Grant finally settles down next to them on Gerard’s other side and wraps an arm over his waist, tangling his leg with Frank’s. Gerard is effectively pinned, but he doesn’t mind. He never wants to move again.

“Thank you,” Gerard whispers. “Love you,” he says a beat later.

Frank just keeps kissing his shoulder soft and sleepy.

Grant puts a hand on his face and brushes his hair back and says, “Thank you for -” He lets the sentence fade away.

For being there tonight. For the interview. For the fucking amazing sex. For loving them. Gerard has a lot of endings he could add to that sentence and it doesn’t even matter which one Grant means this time because they’re all equally true. Gerard closes his eyes again and falls asleep.