Work Header

Want you smothered want you covered (like my Waffle House hashbrowns)

Work Text:

Ray Toro's hair is sticky, clumping, thwapping him in the face every time he throws his head around.

Ray Toro is on stage in front of thousands of kids, playing his heart out with his brothers, and his hair is full of come.

And it's all Frank's fucking fault.



"We need porn!" Frank shouts, loud enough that Ray says a quick prayer of thanks that they're in dressing rooms with actual walls tonight.

"Jesus Christ, Iero," Bob says. Grumbles, really, because Bob's a quiet fucker when he's jerking off. It is, to be honest, one of the reasons Ray liked him so much for joining the band.

Mikey snorts and wipes his hand on his jeans before shouldering Frank away from the laptop. "Honestly, Frank, you're fucking hopeless."

"I'm sorry we're not all porn gurus," Frank says. He leans heavily over Mikey's back, the two of them pointing at things and debating in quick, low voices. Frank is pissy that his carefully crafted psych-up mixes all got deleted, so now he's taking over the porn for their nightly jack off session.

Ray rolls his eyes; he might as well settle in for the long haul, now. He squirms lower on the couch and pushes his boxers down. Gerard's knobby glow-in-the-dark knees bump his and Ray hums. "Yes, darling?"

"Fuggu, a'hole."

Ray laughs and rolls his head lazily. Gerard's wearing his black gag and he's drooling, spittle running down his chin. Ray can't remember how many beers it took him to decide that the solution to Gerard wearing his voice out before a show was a fucking ball gag. It's as hot as it is hilarious, though, and Ray smirks. "That's a good look for you, Way."

"Hae you," Gerard slurs, glaring as hard as he can. It's totally fucking ridiculous since his hand is still moving on his cock. Ray can't help laughing but he leans over and pulls Gerard's shirt up to wipe his chin.

"Told you you were the wife," Frank says. There's a Bob-rumble and a thwap, then, "Ow, Bob! Shit!"

"Shut the fuck up, Frank."

"You can't tell me what to do, you're not my real dad."

Ray rolls his eyes--again--and settles back against Gerard, shoulder to shoulder. "Someday Bob's going to kill you, Frank, and none of us will give a shit."

"Gah, I hate you all," Frank hisses. He wrestles his way out of Bob's headlock with a jab to the gut, ducks Bob's fist, and steals the laptop away. "Just for that. Watch this shit."

Bob settles back into his chair, squinting suspiciously at the little tattooed asshole clicking away on Ray's Mac. "Better not be that hentai shit. If I lose my boner this close to show, I'll kick your ass."

"Please," Frank says. He snorts, types a few last strokes, then perches the laptop on the table with a flourish.

Ray realizes then, dragging his eyes from Gerard's face, that it's VLC, not Safari. "Frank."

"Yes, Ray?" Frank looks at him with a smirk Ray knows all too well. Fuck.

"What the shit did you do?" Ray says. They've watched some of his porn before, but Frank doesn't usually look so smug about it, and he was doing a lot of clicking.

Frank shrugs and sprawls in his seat, shoving his hands down his pants. "Just broke into your super secret nasty freaky porn folder."

Ray recognizes the video starting then and hisses, but before he can say anything Mikey lets out a low whistle. "Seriously? I've been trying to con the password out of him for months."

"Yeah, well, turns out there is a perk to getting screwed and put in a top bunk," Frank says.

Well, the shit eating grin makes perfect fucking sense now. Ray groans, feeling his cheeks flame up. "You're a giant fucking asshole, Iero. Turn it off."

"Nah. Sharing is caring, Ray!"

"Oh my God, I'm going to kill you," Ray growls. He reaches down for his pants, but Gerard makes a protesting noise and grabs his wrist.

"Ih's onh ah id uh eel."

They all stare at him blankly until Mikey rolls his eyes. "He says it's not that big a deal. Because it's not. A facial is your secret porn?"

"Uh. No," Ray says, blushing. The video just has one guy kneeling in front of one dick, but that doesn't last.

"Yeah, look at you, such a slut, fuckin' covered, aren't you?" comes a disembodied voice, the dick's owner. The kneeler moans and nods, licking his lips. The voice continues, "But that's not enough, is it? Gonna make you so dirty, all of us gonna come on you and you're not going to touch yourself."

The camera zooms out to show more men walking into frame, naked, hard cocks jutting out from their bodies. Ray shivers and the kneeler's whimper is almost loud enough to cover up the gasping breath Gerard draws beside him.

"Oh," Mikey says softly, on his other side. Ray dares to glance at him. Mikey's got an eyebrow raised, wearing his thinking face. "It's like that?"

"Wait, what?" Frank says. Bob shushes him with a hand over his mouth.

Ray's stomach feels tight but he nods, one short little jerk.

"Cool," Mikey says. "Gee?"

Gerard makes a noise that sounds like oh, fuck yeah and stands up. He drags Ray up with him and they both damn near bust their asses, trying to climb off a shitty dressing room couch with their pants around their ankles. Somehow, Ray ends up on his knees in front of the Ways' cocks. From this angle, a hysterical corner of his brain screams, he can see the resemblance.

He's pretty sure any moment now his eyes are going to fall out of his head. He almost swallows his tongue when Bob releases Frank and the two of them join the brothers.

Four cocks in front of him now.

Holy shit.

He may have said that out loud; Gerard grins around his gag and rubs his thumb over Ray's cheekbones. Ray shivers; he almost regrets making him wear that now.

"You guys, I—" Ray's throat chokes up and Gerard squeezes his jaw.

"Dude, chill," Frank says. He's practically bouncing on his toes as he jerks himself, the little asshole, but then he pulls his nice guy shtick and pets Ray's hair with his clean hand. "Gee's right, it's not a big deal."

"It really kind of is, the fuck," Ray says. He laughs, on edge; his cock is getting harder, the thrill in his blood thrumming through him. "We have a show, assholes."

"Yeah," Bob says. His hand moves slow and rhythmic on his cock, almost hypnotic. Ray's brain helpfully supplies trouser snake and he bites his lip hard to stop from giggling over what Bob's saying. "Maybe we want to see you out there like that."

"You what?" Ray says, squeaking. His hair catches in Frank's hand as he jerks his head up to stare at Bob, who shrugs, a lazy smirk pulling at his mouth.

"Don't act like that's not hot, Toro," Bob says. Which, okay, yeah, it is. It's filthy and perverted and disgusting and it makes Ray's belly twist like only the really good porn can.

"C'mon, Ray," Mikey says. Ray looks up at him and can't help feeling a little better at how Gerard is beaming between his brother and his lover.

"Brian'll kill us," Ray says.

"Please," Frank scoffs. As if the fear of Schechter's ever stopped Frank from doing something.

The stupid porno on his laptop is still playing, familiar and fake behind the sound of his bandmates jerking off. Ray feels almost dizzy from the surrealness of it all.

Then there's a knock at the door and they all jump. Someone calls, "My Chem, twenty minutes!"

Bob grunts and cups his free hand around the back of Ray's head, literally turning his attention back to them. "We've still got to warm up, bro."

Ray Toro is a god damn professional, but he's also got four hard cocks within inches of his face. He swallows hard, then wraps his hands around Bob and Frank's as he leans in to lick up Mikey and Gerard's. "Then hurry the fuck up."

They all groan above him. Gerard and Mikey's hands tangle in his hair, pushing Frank's aside to pull him closer. Frank protests, "Hey, party foul!" but Ray squeezes a hand around his cock to shut him up. Ray takes a deep breath and opens his mouth as wide as he can, letting Gerard and Mikey thrust in. They can't go deep, not together, but it's way fucking easier to cover his teeth when he's sober so all around it goes a hell of a lot more smoothly than the last time they tried this.

"Jesus Christ, Ray," Bob says. He bumps Ray's hand off his cock, stroking himself faster, so Ray holds onto Gerard and Mikey's instead. Frank makes a startled noise; when Ray rolls his eyes up, just to the edge of pain, Mikey's leaning in to kiss where Gerard's mouth is stretched open.

God, Ray really loves his band.

He realizes he's staring when Gerard whines and Mikey looks down at him and raises an eyebrow. "You're normally better at multitasking."

"God, fuck you, Mikeyway, fucking slowing shit down," Frank says.

Mikey snorts at him. "Not my fault Ray's slacking." Ray makes a protesting noise around their cocks and Mikey's eyes go crossed.

"Uh, yeah, it kind of is." Frank sticks his tongue out at Mikey, then slaps Ray's hand away. "Bob and me'll go first, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," Mikey says. He scrunches his fingers in Ray's hair and grins down at him. "Ready for this shit?"

Ray wants to cuss them both out for being jackasses, but the greater fraction of him wants to see what's in store. He scowls and takes Mikey's cock in his now free hand, squeezing and stroking them both while he sucks. This, at least, sucking them off, is familiar: the weight of Gerard's cock on his tongue, the taste of Way, the bristle of hair against his hands.

The slick sound of hands on other cocks to either side of him, fucking live action surround sound porno, changes everything. He's used to hearing Bob and Frank jerk off behind curtains or at least across the room. Now he's got Bob's hand heavy on his neck, and Frank's making the little whine he only makes when he's playing with his balls because he's close.

Ray's hard, he knows, but it's bizarrely the last thing on his mind. He wants to be filthy, marked up, wants to taste it and breathe it and revel in it.

He's so strung out on anticipation that the first string of come hitting his cheek shocks him to the core. Ray whimpers and immediately sits back on his heels so he can turn into it -- Frank, his brain belatedly realizes, that's Frank coming across his face.

"Ray Toro, you filthy fucking dog, Jesus Christ, look at you," Frank's saying. A callused thumb rubs jizz into Ray's cheekbone and he leans into it, moaning.

He doesn't get long, though, before Bob's hand squeezes his skull. He opens sticky eyes, watching Bob chew on his lip ring while his hand flies over his cock, until Bob's face goes slack as his balls draw up. Ray squeezes his eyes shut again, listening to Bob's grunting "fuck, fuck, fuck," and then there's more warm wet hitting Ray's other cheek.

Fuck, Ray still can't believe he's doing this on purpose, not just pulling off a blowjob a little early. Bob's come smells and tastes different than Frank's, muskier and heavier somehow. He doesn't go for as long and he pulls Ray's face so close that Ray can feel his cock pulsing thick and hot against his cheek.

For all that Bob's practically humping Ray's face, all he says is a quiet self-satisfied, "shit yeah" as he finishes and lets Ray go. Ray reels, tongue daring out over his lip in an instinctive there's something there motion that makes him moan when all he tastes is sweat and jizz.

"Holy shit," Ray says, panting. At some point his hands fell from the Ways to his thighs. He says a quick quiet thanks to whatever deity guides filthy orgies that neither of them really bitched about it, though his scalp prickles where they've been pulling. Frank and Bob pulling their jeans up reminds him they need to be on stage soon and he should really stop watching his boyfriends jerk off, even if it's fucking hot to watch it from so close.

Mikey runs two fingers down Ray's cheek, eyes dark where he watches them mix Bob and Frank's come. Ray can feel it pooling against his skin and he opens his mouth to suck Mikey's fingers clean.

"Awake now, Toro?" Mikey says. He smears his free hand up Ray's other cheek, combing jizz up into Ray's hair. Ray makes a face at him and bites his knuckles.

"Don't be a bitch," Ray says. Gerard whines in protest and Ray obligingly swallows his cock.

"Whatever, you like it." Mikey gasps; he always did love watching Ray and Gerard more than most things. Gerard's groaning through his gag, thighs flexing as he thrusts into Ray's mouth slow and fucking sweet because fucking throats is somehow kinder if you take your time about it.

Gerard's a fucking weirdo, but Ray really likes sucking his cock, so Ray rolls with it. He braces his heels against his thighs and leans into Gerard's thrusts. Mikey's the only one talking now, "so fucking hot, you guys, Jesus, Gerard's fucking their come down your throat," over the sound of Ray gagging as Gerard's hips speed up.

"Five minutes, guys!"

"Shit, that was Mehdi," Frank hisses. He moves, probably to make sure the door's locked.

"Shit, shit, okay," Mikey says. He gasps when he comes, right over Ray's mouth around his brother's cock. Gerard jerks and moans, muttering something unintelligible around his gag. Ray can taste him already; he makes an embarrassing mewling noise and chases after it as Mikey and Gerard finish together on his lips.

Ray hasn't even caught his breath yet when things start happening around him. Mikey unbuckles Gerard's gag, kisses him shortly, and pushes him toward his teapot. Frank comes at his face with wet paper towels, then Bob's hauling him up by the armpits.

"Wait, fuck," Ray says, stumbling, but Bob shakes head and pushes him toward the door.

"No time, dude, we still have to fucking warm up," Frank says, handing him his Gibson. Before Ray knows it they're sidestage, doing their high-fives and walking out to thousands of screaming kids.

Fucking hell.



"Good show, guys, right?" Gerard says. Ray is going to fucking kill him because he actually almost sounds like he wants to recap it all right then.

Luckily, though, Bob and Frank are so drenched in sweat they just nod at him and wave as they head for the showers. Gerard's still talking, rambling a mile a minute at Mikey and endangering passersby with his hand gestures, but Ray doesn't feel bad at all about grabbing his wrist and dragging him off.


"Seriously, Gerard, shut the fuck up." Mikey's giggling behind them, but whatever. Ray knows he saw a supply closet down this hall somewhere.

"No, just. The fuck? We have a bus," Gerard says. At least he's coming along mostly quietly now.

"You might could wait for the bus. You already got off, asshole," Ray snaps back. A door opens and it turns out to be a small enough room that Ray's sure no one else is in there; good enough.

"This is so. Fucking 2003." Gerard giggles and sashays past him into the closet. He's been sashaying the entire fucking show, teasing fingers over Ray's ass and doing inappropriate things to Mikey. Ray's dick probably has zipper marks on it now, but at least he doesn't have to worry about security; Mikey shuts the door behind them and Ray knows he'll play sentinel for them.

"Don't care, don't care don't care, don't care," Ray says. He's irritated to realize it's a singsong in time with what he's doing: unbuttoning his jeans, ripping Gerard's zipper down, yanking Gerard's jeans down over his hips, spinning Gerard into the wall.

"Fuck." Gerard grunts when his palms hit cinder blocks and arches an eyebrow at Ray over his shoulder. "You were hiding lube in your pants all day?"

"No, of course not." Ray scowls at him. They all have lube in their bags, but those are a million miles away in the dressing room that's full of other people.

Gerard shakes his ass and grins. "Then what're you gonna do about it, stud?"

Ray can't help laughing as he spits into his palm and strokes himself. "This," he says, and he steps forward to push his cock between Gerard's thighs. "Just. Squeeze, Gee, come on." He knows he's begging but he doesn't give a shit. He'll swear in court that being hard for an hour and a half with come in your hair is cruel and unusual punishment at least deserving of some thigh fucking.

Gerard apparently agrees, because he gasps a "yeah, okay," and tightens his thighs around Ray's cock. His ass still feels the same against Ray's hips, big and soft, and the pressure from his thighs is more than enough to fool Ray's cock. Fucking is fucking, and Ray's band gave him his number one jerk off fantasy on a fucking silver platter. He digs his fingers into Gerard's hips and grunts as he thrusts an embarrassingly few times before he finally, finally, comes.

Neither of them say anything for a long moment. Ray slumps against Gerard's back, letting the wall hold them both up; he feels like he hasn't taken a deep breath in hours. He breathes in time with Gerard, petting a hand down over the fine hairs on his belly.

"Fucker," Gerard hisses, twisting away when Ray's fingers pet his cock. Ray hums and pulls him back by the belt loop for a kiss.

"That was really fucking hot," Ray says.

"Fucking duh." Gerard squints up at him, hunched over his crotch as he tries to rezip his pants. It's possible Ray was overzealous in getting them off. "And?"

Ray shrugs, leaning against the door while he watches. Button flies are a million times easier, but Gerard refuses to change over. "And we're going to have to smoke Iero good for that one."

"Duh," Gerard says again. He gives up on his zipper with a grunt and stands on his tiptoes to kiss Ray. "Mikey's already on it."

"Damn, I love you guys," Ray says. He bites Gerard's lip, then opens the door and nods at Mikey, who's flushed and grinning from listening to them.

"Duh," Mikey says.