"Fuck, oh, oh, fuck." Frank was chanting it up above Gerard, his hands tangled in Gerard's hair and his dick deep in Gerard's mouth. Gerard moaned and tugged on Frank's hips. He wanted it deeper, faster, harder, he wanted to fucking swallow Frank down.
"Jesus Christ." It was muffled and when Gerard glanced up, Frank had his fist pressed against his mouth, trying to keep quiet. "Fuck, I'm gonna - Jesus, fuck, just -"
Frank shoved his hips forward and Gerard took it, opening up. Frank cursed, and came, flailing his arms and knocking over an entire shelf of cleaning products as he did so. They clattered to the floor all around Gerard, and both he and Frank froze for a handful of seconds, Frank's cock still in Gerard's mouth. Gerard pulled off and swallowed - finally - and they stayed there, Gerard clutching at Frank's hips, their eyes on the door to the janitor's closet they were hiding in.
No one knocked, and the door didn't rattle, and after a very long few seconds, Gerard breathed out heavy against Frank's hip. "Jesus Christ. That was subtle."
Frank giggled, sagging back heavily against the shelf. The bottle of bleach beside him wobbled, and he caught it before it fell. "Uh. Sorry. You just - Jesus, Gee, you're so fucking good at that."
Gerard licked his lips. He was good at it. He hauled himself to his feet, still really fucking hard in his jeans.
Frank was blinking sleepily at him, looking sated and fucked out. "C'mere," he said, his eyes heavy, but hot, his cheeks flushed, reaching for Gerard's zipper. "C'mere, let me -" He had the top button of Gerard's jeans open when someone pounded on the door, three times in quick succession.
"Iero! Five minutes 'til bus call!"
They were both frozen, staring at each other in the dim closet. Gerard was barely even breathing, even though Frank's fingers were pressed hot against his cock, still trapped in the denim.
"I know you're in there, Frank."
Gerard made wide eyes at him. Fuck. Fuck.
"The rest of the band is on the goddamn bus already. Finish up with whoever it is and get a goddamn move on."
They heard footsteps moving away and they both let out their breaths. "Jesus, that was close," Frank said.
"Do you have someone assigned to you?" Gerard asked curiously. "To call your hook-ups when you're running late?"
"I, uh. Missed a lot of bus calls in the past. Apparently." Frank rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. His hair was getting really long, and it tangled up in the back and stayed that way. It was pretty adorable.
Gerard buttoned his jeans back up and shifted his hips, trying to adjust himself.
"Seriously?" Frank asked, looking down to where Gerard was hard and obvious in his jeans. "That wasn't a boner-killer for you?"
Gerard pressed his hand against his dick, willing it to calm down. "Apparently not?" He grinned at Frank and moved to press against him. "Maybe you're just that hot."
"That's true." Frank nodded seriously, and Gerard had to kiss him, he couldn't help himself. He pushed his hips forward, because fuck, he wanted to make something of it here, they wouldn't have any alone time until -
"I WILL LEAVE YOU HERE IN A CLOSET WHILE WE ALL GO TO CLEVELAND," came through the door and they jerked back guiltily.
"Coming!" Frank yelled.
"You'd better be!" the voice shot back.
They waited again, and finally Frank breathed, "Okay. You'd better go first. I think they think you're on the bus already."
Gerard nodded. "Mikey would have covered."
Frank blinked. "He knows?"
"Well. I didn't tell him. But - he knows to cover for me?" Gerard shrugged.
"You Way brothers." Frank shook his head.
"What about us?" Gerard said, tilting his head.
"I just like you." Frank was gazing up at Gerard, his eyes soft, and Gerard couldn't help the stupid fucking smile that spread across his face.
"We've gotta go," he said.
"I'm sucking your cock at the next truck stop," Frank told him, wrapping his hands in the lapels of Gerard's leather jacket.
"I like you, too," Gerard said, helplessly, and Frank laughed, and pressed up against him for a handful of seconds.
"Go." Frank pulled back finally and listened at the door for a second. "Go, now."
Gerard slipped out the door and somehow made it back on the bus unnoticed, tossing away his cigarette butt as he got on, like he had just stepped outside for a smoke. Mikey looked up from the couch where the opening credits for Raiders of the Lost Ark were just starting and raised one eyebrow.
Gerard shrugged and settled down on the couch beside him. "Where's Ray?"
"Talking to Christa." Mikey paused the movie, even though nothing was happening yet, just jungle and credits, which Gerard respected. "Where's Frank?"
Gerard moved his jaw, and shrugged again. "Dunno."
Frank clambered onto the bus just then, stumbling up the stairs yawning. "Fuck, sorry, fuck," he said. "Lost track of time."
His hair was a mess and his eyes sleepy and his face flushed. If his dick hadn't been in Gerard's mouth fifteen minutes ago, Gerard would almost have believed that he'd just, like, fallen asleep under the craft services table.
"Uh-huh," Mikey said.
"Raiders!" Frank said, collapsing onto the couch beside Gerard. "Fuck yeah. Unpause. Let's go."
"We're waiting for Ray," Mikey said absently, looking at Frank. "You don't look so good."
"I'm fine." Frank pulled his hood up over his head and tucked his hands into his sleeves. "Why is it so cold in here?"
"Oh God, are you getting sick again?" Ray poked his head out through the curtain from the bunk area. "I was just getting used to Rob not sneezing all over everything."
"I'm not sick." Frank scrunched down next to Gerard, his head on Gerard's thigh. "I'm fine."
"Why would your guitar tech get...oh." Gerard looked down at Frank.
"I never hooked up with Rob," Frank mumbled against Gerard's thigh.
"He worked for Linkin Park before," Ray said, settling down on one of the chairs in the lounge.
"....okay, maybe I hooked up with Rob a few years ago," Frank said, not opening his eyes. "But I'm not sick."
"Uh-huh." Mikey unpaused and the music swelled and silence fell on the lounge for a few minutes as they all watched Indy creeping through the jungle.
Gerard was paying attention to the movie, but Frank's head was a heavy weight on his thigh, and when Gerard looked down, Frank's eyes were opening and closing slowly, like he was having a hard time staying awake. Gerard put his hand on Frank's forehead, and Frank scowled up at him. "I'm fine."
He didn't feel warm or anything. Maybe he was just fucked out. Gerard grinned a little, brushing Frank's hair back out of his eyes. When he looked up, Mikey was watching him instead of the TV. Gerard shrugged. "He's not running a fever."
"Okay." That was all Mikey said, but Gerard still had a real hard time not looking at him. He just concentrated on the TV screen, and his hand in Frank's hair, because that is what he would be doing regardless.
"Okay," Mikey said again quietly, but when Gerard glanced at him, he was just watching the movie, so that's what Gerard did, too, with Frank's breath warm against his thigh.
Frank slept until sound check the next day, and when he crawled out of his bunk, his eyes were glassy and his cheeks were red. Gerard eyed him - he looked like he was barely keeping himself upright - but Ray was the one who backed him into a corner and pressed a hand against his forehead. "Jesus, Frank, you're burning up!"
"I just need aspirin," Frank said tiredly. "You know me. I'm okay."
"I do know you," Ray said. "You're an asshole who will push yourself no matter how sick you are."
"I'm fine," Frank said, closing his eyes for longer than a blink.
Gerard was watching from over Ray's shoulder. Frank really didn't look so good. "Are you sure -"
Frank scowled. "I'm fine. Come on, let's go." He made it through sound check, no problem, though he disappeared right after and Gerard couldn't find him until stage call.
"I fell asleep in Dewees' bunk," Frank said, leaning up against Gerard a little, clutching his guitar. "It's good. I slept hard."
"You really okay?" Gerard asked softly.
"I'm good." Frank blinked up at him. "I'm fine. Drugs'll kick in."
They did, apparently. Frank fucking ripped through the songs, careening around the stage and knocking over his mic a half-dozen times, spitting into the audience, and whenever he caught Gerard's eye, he'd smile fiercely and hop over to crash into him.
Whatever cold meds Frank had gotten his hands on were clearly non-drowsy, because Frank's frenetic energy carried over offstage. He knocked over a carafe of coffee in the dressing room (Gerard glared at him - the venue had really good coffee), he lost one sneaker when he was getting changed and gave up looking for it, hobbling around in one shoe, grinning like a crazy person and rubbing his sweaty head on anyone who stood still long enough, and when he finally headed to the shower, he came out dressed in only jeans and an undone cardigan, looking ebullient and deranged.
Gerard made a mental note to go through Frank's bunk and find whatever cold capsule that was, so he could dole it out in somewhat smaller doses.
Bus call was at one AM but at midnight, Frank was hovering by the doorway to the dressing room, making wide eyes at Gerard. He slipped out and Gerard killed fifteen anxious minutes (okay, twelve) before he followed along behind.
He hit the code on the bus, but before he got the door open, Frank slid up beside him. "Hey sailor," he breathed on his neck and it was fucking ridiculous, but Gerard's dick wanted in Frank's mouth like that.
Frank grabbed him and hauled him back into the dark space between their bus and the next one. He kissed Gerard roughly, and Gerard pushed him against their bus, rocking up against him as he slid his tongue into his mouth. Frank smelled like shampoo and clean sweat. His chest, bare under the open cardigan, was warm under Gerard's fingers, more skin than he'd seen from Frank in weeks, and he couldn't stop sliding his hands over Frank's sides, over Frank's hips where his jeans sagged down, fingertips tracing tattoos he couldn't see in the dark.
Frank moaned into Gerard's mouth, working open the button on Gerard's jeans. "Fuck," he said. "Sorry, but just - just - I fucking need -"
"What are you sorry for?" Gerard asked against Frank's lips. "Your - ah, ah -"
Frank had gotten his jeans open and was sliding his hand inside. Gerard was pretty sure his eyes were rolling back in his head, and he sort of lost control over the English language for a handful of seconds.
"Your hand is on my dick," he managed finally. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
Frank laughed breathlessly, jerking Gerard off and pressing his own dick, hard in his jeans, up against Gerard's thigh. "I'm probably gonna get you sick," he said, but he slid his tongue into Gerard's mouth again, and spun Gerard around, pushing him up against the bus and stroking him harder, faster.
Gerard pulled away from the kiss, because he had to gasp for fucking breath, Frank's hand moving relentlessly on his dick. "You won't - " Gerard bit his own lip, trying to keep from moaning too loud. "You won't get me sick. I never get sick. Fuck, don't stop, fuck, fuck."
"You close?" Frank asked, his eyes hot and bright in the dimness, his voice strained and turned-on. "Are you close, Gee?"
"Yeah, I -" Gerard can barely get the words out, shoving his hips forward towards Frank's fist. "Yeah, you -"
"Cool," Frank said, and slid to his knees on the dirt, taking Gerard into his mouth.
"Oh Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ." Gerard was way too loud, but Frank was taking him all the way in, so fucking hot and wet and and he was - Gerard was - "Fuck, Frank, I'm gonna fucking - " He came, jerking, moaning too loud and bracing his sweaty hands flat against the bus behind him as he shoved himself into Frank's mouth.
When Gerard managed to blink his eyes open, Frank had his jeans open, and was leaning back, one hand braced on the ground behind him. He was jerking himself off, his eyes mostly shut, his mouth open just a little. "Fuck, I love your cock," he panted. "Jesus Christ, fuck, yeah."
Frank shoved his hips forward, biting his lip as he fucked his hand. Gerard wanted to help, wanted to wrap his own hand around Frank's dick but, fuck, he was so caught up in watching. Frank was half-hidden by shadows there, and his hips were moving steadily, one of his knees bare and visible through the torn-out knee of his jeans. He looked like pornography, like actual porn people would pay for, his mouth wet and red, hair damp with sweat and falling in his face. Gerard could see the glimpses of his bare chest under the cardigan, sweat-slick, tattoos shifting with his every move.
Frank was losing it now, biting off gasps and shaking, saying, "Fuck, yeah, gonna - gonna -" He came, spilling all over his fist. His eyes were shut tight, and his face was beautiful, the arc of his back as he held himself there, shaking through it, just gorgeous. He let himself slump forward, finally, hand still around his dick, his face pressed against Gerard's thigh, his breath coming hot and damp against the denim.
"So fucking hot, Frankie." Gerard pushed his fingers into Frank's hair, tugging on it just a little.
Frank rolled his forehead against Gerard's thigh a little, back and forth. "Jesus," he said, his voice cracking a little. "I can't feel my fingers. I'm, like, buzzing from how good that was."
Gerard tugged a little on his hair again, and Frank tilted his head back to look up at him. "We should get inside."
"Yeah." Frank sighed and pushed back, heaving himself to his feet. He leaned up against the bus next to Gerard, the two of them doing up their jeans in unison, which struck Gerard as ridiculous enough that he snorted, then Frank started giggling, then they were both laughing, sagging onto each other's shoulders.
"Okay," Frank said. "Okay. We gotta get in before the guys get back." He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Gerard's mouth, then frowned a little, and wiped it away. "Seriously, fuck, sorry if you get sick. I wasn't thinking."
Gerard grinned. "Clearly you're feeling better."
"Clearly I'm heavily medicated," Frank pointed out. "But yeah. Maybe I'm not sick-sick. Maybe it was just 'cause I was tired."
"You're fine." Gerard kissed him. "I'm fine." He kissed him again. He was being stupid and syrupy and he couldn't help himself. "Let's go in."
Gerard woke up to Frank coughing in the bunk across the way and down. He poked his head out. "Frank?"
"Fuck." Frank's voice was thick. "Fuck, fuck, fu -" He broke off, coughing harder, and it sounded fucking horrible, ripped from his chest and nasty.
Gerard lowered himself out of his bunk and padded over to Frank's, pulling his curtain back. Frank was huddled in a miserable heap under his blanket, his hoodie pulled up over his head. He had his arms wrapped around himself, and he was shivering pretty hard.
"Frank," Gerard said.
"Fuck me," Frank mumbled. He had his face pressed against the pillow, sounding exhausted.
Gerard pressed his hand to Frank's forehead. "Fuck."
"I know." Frank didn't move. "I know, I just."
"You're really fucking hot." Gerard pulled back out of the bunk, calling for Ray.
"You say the nicest fucking things, sweetheart," Frank mumbled, half-grinning against the pillow. He blinked his eyes open then, and looked up at Gerard. "Sorry," he said softly. "You're gonna get this."
"No, I won't," Gerard promised. "I told you. I don't get sick."
"Uh-huh." Frank closed his eyes again. "I hope you're right."
"Frank," Ray said over Gerard's shoulder.
"Why do you all say my name like that?" Frank said tiredly. "Like I'm a disappointment to -" He broke off, coughing heavily again.
"He's got a fever," Gerard said to Ray.
Ray pressed his hand to Frank's forehead, pushing his hair off his face.
"Stop it," Frank mumbled against his pillow. "I'm an adult."
"Sure you are," Ray said dryly. He looked at Gerard. "Show tonight."
"I know." Gerard bit his lip. Maybe they could get someone to cover...
"I'll be fine." Frank flailed around, pushing the blankets down. "What time is it." He pushed himself up on his elbows. "Oh fuck." He slumped back down.
"He's got some time," Ray said to Gerard, frowning down at Frank, who had his eyes shut again. "But let's maybe get some back-up?" He pulled out his phone, glanced at the time. "He can skip sound-check, and if we medicate him right before stage-call..."
"I'm right here," Frank said hoarsely. "I can hear you, you know."
"Sorry, Frankie." Ray patted him on the shoulder.
Frank glared at him, then coughed, then coughed harder, curling in on himself.
Ray grinned a little bit. "Man, whoever you hooked up with last night is gonna regret it."
"Hey!" Frank managed indignantly. "I didn't hook up with anyone!"
Gerard was pretty impressed - Frank didn't even glance in Gerard's direction when he said it. Gerard was busy practicing his innocent look himself.
Ray looked utterly dubious. "Really."
"Really!" Frank said.
"You hadn't just been sucking dick between the buses right before you came back last night?"
Gerard didn't choke, but it was close.
"No!" Frank declared, then blinked. "Wait. Why did you think -"
"Uh." Ray's eyes crinkled as he looked at Gerard, bringing him in on the joke. Gerard managed a grin back. "Because you came in with dirt on both knees?"
"I fell down!" Frank said, in between coughing.
"...and you had come on your cheek," Ray finished.
Frank buried his face in his pillow again. "I hate you so much," he mumbled.
"Sorry, Frank," Ray said pushing himself to his feet. "And that better not have been Rob. I need him healthy."
"I don't even like Rob this tour," Frank yelled out miserably after Ray, before sagging back against his pillow and glaring at Gerard.
"I didn't say anything." Gerard held up his hands innocently.
"I know," Frank said bitterly. "How come I get to take the fall as the slutty one?"
"Well." Gerard considered his words, but fuck, it wasn't like Frank - and everyone else - didn't know. "You kind of were the slutty one."
"That was before." Frank glowered. He looked pale and exhausted, and pretty miserable, and not very fierce. Gerard couldn't help smiling a little bit.
"Before what?" he said, sliding closer to the bunk on his knees. "Before me?"
Frank tried to keep the scowl up, but Gerard was leaning in close, giving Frank his sweetest look. He was goddamn irresistible like this, he was pretty sure.
He was right - Frank cracked a smile about ten seconds later.
"Yeah, you conceited freak." Frank smiled up at him, then coughed, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Before you, okay?"
Gerard leaned in and kissed him, snotty nose and all.
"Stop it." Frank pushed a little against Gerard's shoulder, but Gerard just kissed him again. "Oh my God. Come on. I'm gross. You're kissing my snot."
"You stopped being slutty for me," Gerard said. "I get to keep kissing you. And I have an immune system, okay?"
"Okay." Frank kissed him back, then pushed him away firmly. "Only I can't breathe, so this might be a problem."
"Sorry," Gerard said. He wasn't. He wasn't sorry at all.
Frank made it through the show that night, Gerard thought probably through sheer willpower and his absolute determination to prove them all wrong. He had on two hoodies throughout and Gerard didn't see his face for most of the show - it was covered by his sweat-soaked hair and Frank didn't seem to be able to even keep his head up. After he played one song with his forehead planted against the tall amp on side stage - never missing a note, and certainly not the weirdest thing Frank had ever done on stage, but still - Gerard danced his way over to him, swaying his hips and making a show of it, but pushing Frank's hair up and out of his face, so he could feel his forehead.
"Your fever's up again," he muttered at him, off-mic.
"I'll make it." Frank didn't look up at him, but when Gerard bumped his shoulder, he let his head fall against Gerard's chest for a minute, still moving his fingers steadily on his guitar.
Gerard ruffled his hair, and Frank pushed off, back to his side of the stage. He did make it to the end - Gerard made the call to cut one song from the set list, and when he said so into the dead mic, Ray glanced over at Frank real quick, and nodded in agreement.
When the lights went down after the final song, Ray hung back and he and Gerard herded Frank offstage between them, Mikey trailing along behind. Frank was walking along, limp and beaten, between them, clearly the worse for fucking wear.
They hustled him back to the dressing room, which was half-full of people - techs and crew and friends. Frank had his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, his head down, looking fucking miserable. Ray and Gerard deposited him on the couch.
"Gee," Frank said, pressing his face against the back of the couch, his eyes closed. "Can we go back to the bus now? Please? You were right. I was wrong. I need to collapse and not move again ever."
Gerard looked around at the guys. Mikey shook his head. "It's parked right outside the venue," he said. "There are about eight hundred kids out there waiting."
"Oh God." Frank shut his eyes.
"It won't be long," Gerard said, lying. "They'll clear out."
"They won't," Frank muttered grimly. "I'm going to die in this dressing room."
"Can you get Frank some water, Mikey?" Gerard said. He glanced around some more, finding Lauren's assistant by the back door. "Can you clear the room for us?" he asked. "And maybe see if we can get a car or something out of here? Can we meet the bus someplace?"
The girl hesitated. "I'll see," she promised, eyeing Frank. She hit a button on her phone, yelling out to clear the room at the same time. Ray followed her out the door, talking to her intently. If she couldn't find a car, Gerard bet Ray could.
Frank had squeezed his eyes shut, breathing through his mouth. "I'm so fucking sick," he mumbled. "Everything hurts." He coughed, wincing. "I want to die."
"It'll be okay, Frank." Gerard was hunting around in Frank's duffel, looking for his medication. "We'll get you out of here."
"Hate this venue," Frank was chanting softly against the couch, his eyes closed. "Hate this room. This couch smells like dead cat."
"Thanks," Gerard said when Mikey came back with the water.
"No problem." Mikey studied Frank's huddled form on the couch. "You look like shit, man."
"Please kill me," Frank said, cracking his eyes open.
"Sorry," Mikey said. "We kind of need you." He leaned over Gerard's shoulder, looking into Frank's bag for a second before reaching in and plucking the NyQuil out from behind a pair of rolled-up socks.
"Thanks," Gerard said again.
"You're a terrible looker," Mikey said, and sat on the couch across from Frank, pulling out his phone.
It took Gerard way too long to get the packet open. "These things were created by monsters," he said around his thumb, which he shoved in his mouth after cutting it open on the fucking razor-sharp edge of the pack. "How does anyone sick get them open?"
"They don't," Frank says dully. He sneezed, then sneezed again. "They just suffer."
"Well, I'm here, so you don't have to suffer." Gerard held out the pills. "Here."
Frank didn't open his eyes.
"I bled for these pills," Gerard said, still holding them out.
Frank grumbled, and pushed himself up, then sagged back almost immediately, shutting his eyes. "Fuck," he said softly. "I really don't feel good." He held out his hand for the pills and took them, swallowing them with the water Gerard had pushed into his hand. He slid back down on the couch, trying to tug his hoodie up over his head. Gerard reached over and helped him.
"I'm freezing," Frank said. "And my head hurts so bad. And -" He cut himself off, coughing into his sleeve.
"It's okay, Frankie. We're headed out, soon, I promise." Gerard slid down to sit next to the couch on the - skanky - floor. He looked over his shoulder at Mikey. "Can you check with Ray and see if he's figured anything out?"
"Sure." Mikey got to his feet and headed out.
Gerard waited until the door swung closed again before moving closer and pressing his hand against Frank's forehead. He knew Frank hated it, but he felt so fucking useless here. "It's okay," he said again.
"I know." Frank swallowed, taking in a breath. "I know, I just fucking -" He stopped again, pressing his lips together. "I fucking hate feeling like this and -" He shut his eyes tight.
Gerard watched him helplessly, finally leaning in to rest his forehead against Frank's shoulder, and slip his hand into Frank's. Frank took in a shaky breath, and then another, and then blinked his eyes open. They were only slightly damp. He looked at Gerard. "I'm kind of pathetic, huh."
"A little," Gerard said, and Frank smiled a tiny bit and sighed, hanging on to Gerard's hand more tightly. "You'll be okay."
"Right." Frank shut his eyes and Gerard sat there, holding his hand, even after Mikey came back.
Frank pretty much slept and snuffled through the next two days, feverish, his eyes hazy whenever he woke up. They were travel days, though, and by the time they hit Indiana he was mostly back to his usual self - snotty and leaving a trail of tissues behind him wherever he went, but cheerful about it.
"It's just snot," he said. "I've got my brain back!"
"You never had much to miss," Mikey said, and Frank threw a handful of damp tissues at him.
"Gross, gross, gross." Mikey batted them off himself. "I don't want your disease-ridden tissues."
Gerard grinned at Frank, wondering for a second how he could find someone blowing their nose adorable.
"Hey!" Ray looked up from his X-Box controller. "That's right! You're disease-ridden!"
"...thanks?" Frank said. "Way to...kick me when I'm down?"
"No, I just mean that no one else showed up all disgustingly snotty or anything!" Ray sounded suspicious.
"No, really. Thanks. It's cool. You've very sweet," Frank said.
"Hey, I'm just happy you didn't infect my tech," Ray said. "Only -" He looked at Frank. "You were with someone that night."
"I wasn't," Frank insisted, belligerent.
"You totally were," Ray said. "Come on, man. Who was it?"
"I don't kiss and tell." Frank pulled his hood up firmly over his head.
Gerard raised an eyebrow. "Uh, I'm not sure that's completely accurate…"
"Sheila, Matt, Chris, Bethany," Mikey said, not looking up from his phone. "Alison, Geoff, and Louie." He glanced up, then. "Last tour."
"You don't know that for sure!" Frank protested.
"Yeah, I do." Mikey squinted at Frank. "You told me."
"Not only that," Ray said. "You didn't even have to kiss and tell. We could watch it happen. Everyone you hooked up with got sick right after. It was like we could chart your sex life by who was hacking up a lung."
Frank frowned. "I could not shake that flu," he muttered to himself. "That sucked."
"Didn't stop you from sticking your tongue in anyone's mouth who stood still long enough," Gerard pointed out mildly.
Frank lifted his chin, grinning. "I didn't say that part sucked."
"You almost brought down the tour!" Ray pointed his finger at Frank.
Frank grinned harder, unrepentant. "Nah," he said. "I didn't hook up that quickly. I'm usually good for a week or so after."
Ray raised one eyebrow. "So you took your time systematically infecting the tour."
"I'm an equal-opportunity hook-up, what can I say."
Gerard looked at him. "And you ask why you get pegged as the slutty one."
"I'm not slutty," Frank explained. "I'm easy. There's a difference."
"Is there?" Ray asked.
"Yes," Frank and Mikey said at the same time.
Frank beamed and shuffled over to high-five Mikey, who obediently accepted it, then glanced around and grabbed the hand-sanitizer from the table.
"I should be offended by that," Frank said. "But I'm the bigger person here."
Everyone looked over and opened their mouths, and Frank groaned, putting his hands over his face. "Shut up, shut up, shut up, seriously, get some new jokes, okay?"
"Okay, short-stuff." Ray went back to his game. "But don't think I'm not gonna start charting your hook-ups. It's only a matter of time until the victim shows up."
"Can you not call my hook-ups victims?" Frank said. "Would that be something that could happen, maybe?"
"Also," he said later, when Gerard had him pinned against the wall in the back lounge. "It wasn't a hook-up."
"It's also been going on longer than two weeks," Gerard pointed out, sliding his thigh in between Frank's legs.
"Yep." Frank had his hands on Gerard's shoulders, and his head pushed back against the wall. "I'm a monogamous slut."
Gerard giggled, pressing closer. "I'm glad." His cock was so fucking hard in his jeans. It had been days since he'd even had his hands on Frank.
"I'd suck your cock if I could breathe through my nose," Frank said tightly, as Gerard rocked against him.
Gerard groaned, and leaned in to lick the length of Frank's neck, Frank helpfully tipping his head to give him access. "Seriously," he said. "I didn't have the energy to jerk off while I was sick but I couldn't stop thinking about your cock in my mouth."
Gerard shoved his hips forward, biting at Frank's neck before he could help himself. "Fuck," he said, "Tell me. Tell me."
"Well," Frank said, biting back a groan as Gerard undid his belt, thumbed open the button on his jeans. "You know how much I like sucking dick."
"I do." Gerard did. He really did. His dick, where it was pressed hard and aching up against the zipper of his jeans, really did, too.
"And your dick, in particular," Frank started. "Ah, fuck, fuck, yeah -"
Gerard had Frank's dick out of his jeans, wrapped his hand around it, and was jerking him off, slow and steady. "What about it?"
"I, ah -" Frank swallowed, one hand clenched on Gerard's shoulder, the other on his hip. "I want to take it slow, next time." His eyes were hot, staring at Gerard. "I want to get you hard, with my mouth. I want to feel that, feel you getting hard, getting bigger. Fuck, Gee." Frank was moaning the words, sounding rough, desperate. "You're so fucking big, I fucking love that."
Gerard's chest felt full, hot, and he bit his lip. "Jesus, Frank, yeah, just -"
"I thought about what it feels like when you fuck my mouth." Frank was keeping his hips against the wall, and Gerard liked that, liked being the one to set the pace, to keep Frank on edge. "I want - I, God, fuck, yeah, like that - I want that, you can just, just - hold my head, keep me there, go in deep."
"Yeah." Gerard barely recognized his own voice, he sounded so rough and shaky and turned-on. "I want - yeah."
"And -" Frank twisted his head, pressing his cheek against the wall, his eyes shut, eyelashes dark against his face. "And I want - fuck - I want to get you going so hard you don't - you don't even know what to - you can't even stop - and -"
Frank was losing it, his hips pressing forward now in short jerks, as Gerard's hand moved faster - he didn't even realize he was doing it, but he wasn't slow and steady any more, he was fast, rough, Frank's cock so hard and hot, leaking in his hand. "What," he panted, his face close to Frank's, his dick so fucking hard in his jeans. "What, tell me, what - I -"
"You can't stop, you fuck my mouth, you're huge and hard and I almost can't take it, almost can't -"
"Jesus -" Gerard couldn't stop the words from tumbling out, but didn't want to interrupt, he wanted to hear this, wanted to hear this. "Frank, I -"
"And you fucking know, you know, and you pull out, right before it's too much, right when you're - you're so close - and - and -"
"Fuck, just - " Fuck, fuck, Gerard was gonna come in his fucking -
"And you, ah, ah," Frank's dick was swelling in Gerard's hand as he stroked him hard. "You pull out, and you come all over my fucking face." His voice breaks. "Jesus Christ, Gee, so fucking hot and thick and dirty and -"
Frank's hands clenched tight on Gerard's shoulders and he jerked, shuddering, his head falling forward to bite at Gerard's shoulder through his jacket, coming all over Gerard's fist, his moans muffled against the fabric.
"Frank, Jesus, fuck." Gerard's voice came out rough and shaky. "I'm gonna - fuck, you've gotta -" Gerard fumbled with the front of his jeans, his hand still slick with Frank's come, and he didn't care, because he was - he was gonna - his dick was so hard and aching and pressing so hard up against his jeans he could barely get them open.
He finally got his dick out, his hand around it, so fucking close, and - Frank slid down the wall in front of him, landing on his knees, his face turned up, his eyes hot.
"Oh my fucking -" Gerard choked out, and came, his hand around his cock, his hips jerking forward, his whole body wrenching with it so hard it almost hurt, trying so hard to keep his eyes open so he could watch as his come spattered on Frank's face, his neck. Jesus. Jesus.
When he was able to feel his limbs again, he realized he was braced against the wall with one hand planted above Frank's head, his other hand still wrapped around his softening cock. Frank had sagged back on his heels, leaning against the wall, grinning up at him. "Yeah," he said softly. "Kind of like that."
"I -" Gerard was trying to make words happen, but he could barely think. "Frank -"
He let his knees give out, sliding to the floor in front of Frank. He just stared at him - he couldn't even - "That was so fucking dirty."
Frank was using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe his face and neck. "That was so fucking hot," he said. He looked at his sleeve, and sighed. "I'm always covered in snot or come, lately."
Gerard giggled. "Hot." He leaned in, using his thumb to wipe a streak of come off of Frank's neck.
Frank just watched him as he licked it off his thumb. "Hot," he mumbled in agreement, then dragged Gerard forward, kissing him hard. "Okay." He wriggled around, getting his phone out of his pocket, glancing at it. "The guys are gonna be back in, like, ten minutes. We should, uh." He glanced around. "Air this place out. Or something." He looked down at himself. "And I should maybe change into something not covered in come."
Gerard shrugged, feeling giddy. "Ray'll just think it's snot, you know."
Frank frowned. "I'm a clean person, you know."
Gerard leaned in to kiss him again. "You're really, really not."
"Who is it?" Ray asked later that night, after the show, when the pizzas had gotten delivered to the bus and they were all munching away. "You know you're gonna tell me eventually."
"There isn't anyone." Frank calmly took another bite. "I'm celibate."
Ray laughed so hard beer almost came out his nose. Mikey handed him a napkin, and Gerard felt the corner of his lip tugging up in a grin, no matter how hard he tried to control it.
"What," Frank demanded. "I could be celibate."
"Uh-huh," Ray said. "Like you were celibate for two hours in the van with that dude - what was his name again? The one with the fauxhawk and the bangle bracelets - and we were late for the Seattle gig?" He looked at Mikey and Gerard. "Frank had the flu. The dude ended up puking for two days after."
"That wasn't -" Frank started to object.
"Or that time with the girl," Mikey said.
"That doesn't narrow it down," Gerard pointed out.
"The girl with the -" He stopped, and leaned over, whispering in Ray's ear. Gerard leaned over, too, to catch the last of it. "...and it had ridges."
"Ohhhhh," Ray and Gerard said together. "That girl."
"Frank was just getting sick with some chest cold. She coughed her way through the rest of the tour."
Frank broke in with, "You don't even -"
"Or," Gerard said, remembering. "The time with the two guys, in the airport? Was that what security busted you for? Celibacy?"
Frank frowned. "I'm not talking to any of you anymore." He took a delicate bite of pizza. "Ever."
Ray nodded. "Both of those guys got mono."
"It was a rough year, okay?" Frank slouched back in his chair, arms crossed.
"You're like an STD," Mikey said thoughtfully. "Kind of."
Frank pushed away from the table and stood up. "I'm leaving," he announced.
"A tiny, tattooed STD," Gerard offered, trying to control himself so he wouldn't start giggling.
"No one complains, you know!" Frank yelled back, stomping through the curtains to his bunk. "Everyone says I'm worth it."
They all broke down laughing, and Ray nearly choked on his pizza. Mikey pounded him on the back and handed him his beer.
"Oh God," Ray said, wiping his eyes and trying to catch his breath. "That really was worth it."
"Go away. I hate you." Frank was tuning his guitar, ignoring Gerard as he danced up to him during sound check, brushing up against him, trying to get Frank to fool around with him.
"You love me." Gerard said it into the mic. "You know you love me." He wiggled his hips up against Frank and leaned in closer, so he could whisper it into both Frank's ear and the mic. "You looooove me."
Frank kept up the stiff pose for a while, but finally leaned back into Gerard's shoulder, not cracking a smile, but continuing to grumpily tune his guitar while he wiggled his ass in perfect rhythm to Gerard's hips, his head up against Gerard's shoulder.
They got a bunch of wolf-whistles from the techs, and Gerard grinned happily. "See?" he announced into the mic. "Told you so." He planted a messy kiss on Frank's cheek and sashayed away, giving everyone a queenly wave.
Afterward, he tugged Frank back behind a stack of crates in a storage room and gave him an actual kiss. "You're not an STD," he told him.
"Oh, thanks." Frank wriggled against him, trying to get away, but laughed when Gerard pinned him against the wall with his hips and his hands. "You didn't get sick."
"I'm the perfect boyfriend." Gerard kissed Frank again, softly. "I'm immune to everything but your love."
He batted his eyelashes and Frank cracked the fuck up, slouching back against the wall and wrapping his hands in Gerard's lapels, dragging him forward and kissing him soundly. He had to break off to breathe, because his nose was still stuffed up, and then he sneezed, loudly, against Gerard's chest.
"Sorry," he said, but rubbed his nose against Gerard's t-shirt before pulling back. "Love you." He grinned, unrepentant, and Gerard laughed, and kissed him again.
The show was awesome that night, Gerard feeling feisty and just so completely on. In tune with the audience, in tune with his band. Frank was clearly feeling better, jerking himself all over the stage, and Gerard spent some time singing into Frank's mic, then swinging around to sing into Ray's, before slinging his arm around Mikey's shoulder for a verse. He jumped up on the drum riser at the end, wiggling his hips, and if he almost teetered off at the end, well, he caught himself, so it was all good.
He was soaked with sweat and fucking exhausted afterward, his throat aching - he hadn't had enough water on stage, and he grabbed a bottle from the table in the dressing room, wincing a little as he gulped the water down.
Frank was going out to sign with Mikey, which was good, because Gerard felt shot after pouring his heart out at the show. He headed back to the bus with Ray, collapsing on the couch while Ray went back to change. He was so fucking tired. Everything hurt. He wondered if he had pulled something on stage - his muscles ached and he just felt, like, weak.
Ray wandered back and Gerard jerked a little on the couch, realizing he had been almost completely asleep in the exact same position Ray had left him in. He sat up and sagged back against the back of the couch. "Ugh." He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to clear his brain.
"You okay, Gee?" Ray asked. "You hurt yourself on stage?"
"No, I -" Gerard shifted, trying to figure it out. "I don't think so, I just feel, like." He swallowed, his throat feeling thick and dry. "I don't know."
"Maybe you'll feel better if you take a shower? Mehdi could take you back to the venue," Ray said.
"Ugh." Gerard made a face. The idea of moving right now was just -
The door hissed open and Mikey came into the lounge of the bus. "What's up." He went to the fridge, rummaging through it before emerging with a Red Bull.
"Can you get me some water?" Gerard asked. His voice came out thick and, okay, maybe a little whiny. He didn't like feeling like this. He touched his throat delicately. "I think I'm dehydrated or something."
Mikey grabbed a bottle and tossed it at him. Gerard just watched as it fell short of the couch and rolled under it.
Mikey made a face. "You didn't even reach for it."
Gerard shrugged, looking around for his hoodie or something - it was freezing on the bus. "Everything hurts." He looked up at Mikey beseechingly. "Can you get it for me?"
Mikey rolled his eyes and sighed, getting down to awkwardly root around under the couch before emerging with the bottle of water. He put it in Gerard's hand and Gerard just looked at it dully, trying to get up the energy to twist the top off.
"What's wrong with him?" Ray asked Mikey. "He's been like this since we got on the bus."
Mikey squinted at Gerard, and then shrugged. "He's sick."
"Oh God." Ray looked at Gerard, too. "Are you sure?"
Gerard looked at Mikey. "But I don't get sick." He frowned. "Maybe I just pulled a muscle."
"What, in your brain?" Mikey settled down beside him, and put a hand on his forehead. It felt clammy, but cool against Gerard's hot face, and Gerard leaned into it. "Yeah, I'm sure," Mikey told Ray.
"Fuck." Ray frowned. "That sucks. And he's right, he doesn't really ever get -"
"Back!" Frank announced, bouncing onto the bus. "Are we ordering pizza? Let's order pizza. I'm starving."
Ray looked at Frank, and his eyes got wide. He looked back at Gerard.
"I didn't do it," Frank said immediately. He looked at Ray, and then at Gerard.
Gerard looked up at both of them, then sneezed three times in a row, and let himself crumple over on his side on the couch. He felt like shit. "Everything hurts," he mumbled against the couch.
Mikey held up his phone and took a picture.
Gerard opened one eye and glared at him as best he could. "Really?"
"Sorry, Gee." Mikey shrugged apologetically. "Mom asked if you were okay."
Mikey shrugged again. "It was quicker than texting."
Gerard groaned and closed his eye again. He felt like he might cry.
"You -" He heard Ray say.
There was a noise like someone backing away. "I didn't."
"You and Gerard - " Ray said.
"I swear!" Frank protested.
"Frank and Gerard," Ray said, and Gerard opened his eyes again, saw Ray looking at Mikey, wide-eyed and disbelieving.
"Yeah," Mikey said.
"Frank's patient fucking zero!" Ray said. "And Gerard's the only one sick on tour right now!"
"Yeah," Mikey said.
"Well, yeah," Mikey said.
"What the hell." Ray dropped down onto a chair, running a hand over his face. "Why am I always the last to -" He cut himself off, looking sternly at Frank. "Is this a slutty thing?"
"Yes," Frank said quickly. "I mean -" He glanced over at Gerard.
Gerard sneezed into the couch and moaned. His throat was on fire.
"I mean," Frank said again, slowly. "Yeah, but - " He looked at Ray helplessly. "I'm only slutty for Gerard."
Mikey made a snorting noise.
"Now," Frank amended. "I'm only slutty for Gerard now."
Gerard smiled a tiny bit. Frank looked down at him, grinned.
"Huh." Ray ran a hand through his hair. "That's kind of sweet. In a, you know, Frank way."
"Thanks, I think." Frank slid to his knees in front of the couch, facing Gerard. "Gee. Fuck. You said you didn't get sick."
Gerard wearily opened his eyes. "I don't. I - " He sneezed into Frank's face.
Frank blinked. "Okay, gross." He wiped his face with his sleeve, then grabbed box of tissues from the table, pressing a handful at Gerard.
"Sorry." He was, he just couldn't actually do anything about it. "Your germs fucking suck."
"I know, Gee." Frank had his hand on Gerard's head, and was frowning at him. He looked like he felt bad for him.
Gerard blinked up at him pathetically. "Is this as bad as it gets? I mean -" He swallowed, whimpering a little, and then coughed.
Frank moved backwards at that, and when Gerard glared at him, he grimaced and moved in closer again. "I - no. Uh. Sorry. It gets worse."
"Oh god." Gerard shut his eyes. Everything was too bright, too loud. He swallowed again, and it hurt so bad, he really was gonna cry.
"You broke him." Ray sounded accusing.
"Only a little," Frank protested weakly.
"He's a terrible patient." Mikey's phone made a cheerful click as he took another picture. "I'm telling Mom Frank's taking care of you," he informed Gerard. "Good luck with that," he added as an aside to Frank.
Gerard opened his eyes, wrapping one hand in Frank's hoodie and tugging on it. "Take me to bed," he whimpered, and sneezed again.
"Okay, Gee," Frank said. He leaned in and kissed Gerard's mouth.
"Ew," came from Mikey.
"Gross," agreed Ray.
"You're kissing my snot," Gerard said tearfully.
"I know," Frank said, and hauled him up from the couch.