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Ritual

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Frank loves giving head.

He loves receiving it - what red blooded male doesn't? - but there's just something about giving it that is just so, so much more pleasing. It's almost ritualistic, folding down onto his knees, sliding his hands down thighs, stroking the crease of thigh and hip with his thumbs, the heavy taste and smell and the velvet heat and weight against his tongue.

He can feel the beat of their pulse and hear the way their breath hitches and their voice breaks - Gerard is high pitched and breathy, Bob is almost silent until the end when he groans low, Patrick is warm and deep - and their hands curl into his hair, stroking and tugging as he finds the rhythm that makes them shake and curse, spilling into his mouth or across his skin.

He knows the way he looks helps, down on his knees, coy glances up through his eyelashes, the ring glinting as it curves around his lip. It's hard to resist and he knows that, uses it to his full advantage when he wants it. It rarely takes much - a careful touch on the nape of a neck, teeth tugging at the circle of silver, leaning in and against with studied pressure - before they follow him, eyes fixed on his mouth for just that moment too long.

He fucking prides himself on his technique. There's so many ways to go, focused and smooth, wet and sloppy, quick and dirty, slow and teasing. He knows what works for them - Gerard up against the wall in a backstage bathroom, fingers scrabbling at the tiles as the seconds tick away to show time, Patrick arching up under Frank's forearm, the familiar feel of bus carpet under Frank's knees as he drags his mouth slowly down Patrick's cock, Bob, all careful restraint and corded forearms as Frank focuses on each fucking inch.

And there's such a difference between sucking someone off and letting them fuck his mouth. He's sparing with that but he does it, loosens his grip and sees who takes up the unspoken offer. Gerard is so fucking careful, like Frank'll break, Patrick stutters, hips shuddering under Frank's hands, Bob is oddly gentle with it, makes sure that he's not actually going to hurt Frank but once he's satisfied that he's not, he uses Frank's mouth and Frank loves it, curls his fingers around Bob's thighs and lets Bob just slide in and out.

And when he's done, he loves the after-effects, the rasp in his throat, the slick wetness of his lips and the way it sparks low down in his spine when he touches his fingers to them and the way they stare and curse and tug him up, returning the favour the best way they know how - clever calloused fingers wrapped around him, the heat and pressure of lips and careful teeth, smooth pale skin and muscled thighs. His turn to curse and twist and shake.

Frank fucking loves giving head.