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"Okay, they are outside again."
"Where? Let me see... The goth guy?"
"He's not goth, Mikey."
"His hair is black."
"My hair is black and I'm not goth."
"You're not?"
"No! That's not the point. That's him though. What do you think?"
They were both huddled against Gerard's kitchen window. If the two men down in the parking lot looked up, they would see them both standing there, staring like some weird brother version of the American Gothic painting.
But both of the men, the tall curly haired guy and Gerard's new neighbour, were pretty focused on what seemed like a very heated discussion over cigarettes and Dunkin.
Mikey stepped away from the window, leaving Gerard to linger for a second, watching the way his new neighbour huddled up under his patch jacket. It was cold as fuck out and even from the fourth floor, Gerard could see his ears were red.
"Mikey, what do you think?" he asked again. Gerard turned around and saw Mikey was pulling his own jacket on. "Wait, you're leaving?"
"We're both leaving," Mikey said.
"Why?"
Mikey looked at him like he was truly stupid. "So we can walk by them? And say hello?"
God, he made it sound so easy.
Because it was easy, Gerard supposed. Both of the Way brothers were a little bit shy and awkward, but Mikey had some secret well of charisma that usually carried him through most social situations. Gerard had more of a reputation for being a basket case nerd, and had a habit of self isolating, so it never really occurred to him to just... go talk to the guy.
Gerard crammed his feet into his big combat boots. They were always loose because he never did the laces up properly, and clunked hollowly while he walked. The noise echoed down the long hall to the elevator.
Mikey chattered the whole way down to the main floor about Sandman while Gerard's stomach flipflopped over saying hello to the neighbour.
He'd moved in the week before, right next to Gerard. And in their building, which was mostly old people and the occasional small family, it was kind of a big deal to have another young person in at all.
Gerard could hear him playing guitar through his bedroom wall late into the night. The guy seemed... cool. And sexy.
Mikey led the charge out of the building, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his stupid, pill-covered pea coat.
The new neighbour and his friend were standing in the grass on the other side of the parking lot.
Mikey stuck a cigarette in his mouth, still describing the plot of a graphic novel Gerard had already read (because it was his copy Mikey was reading), as he smoothly walked up to the two other men.
Gerard trailed behind, looking down, where all the fingers of his right had wrapped themselves nervously around the thumb of his left.
The two other men stopped whatever they were talking about, but Gerard couldn't look up from his hands to see how much of an intrusion Mikey was making.
"Sorry," Mikey said, "do you guys have a light?"
"Yeah, of course," said one of the guys.
Gerard looked up then, to match the voice to the face. It was the taller guy, with the curly hair. The new neighbour was staring right at Gerard. His eyes looked green in the weak sunlight. He gave Gerard a pleasant little smile and brought his cigarette to his lips, before breathing twin trails of smoke out his nose.
Gerard's mouth was dry.
"I'm... your neighbour," he blurted. Oh fuck.
On the road, just on the other side of the sidewalk, a bus ripped past with enough speed to splatter Gerard, if he'd been smart enough to launch himself in front of it.
"No shit," his neighbour said, but it didn't sound like he was mocking him. "I'm Frank."
"Frank," Gerard repeated, tasting the name. Frank, Frank, Frank.
Mikey lit the cigarette between his lips and passed it back to Gerard, a secret signal for 'Put this in your mouth and shut up.'
"This is my brother Gerard," Mikey said, "I'm Mikey. And your name is?"
"Ray," grinned the tall guy, still looking at Gerard.
"How's your move going?" Mikey asked.
See, this was why Gerard needed him. He asked the basic questions that made a conversation go. He didn't just repeat what other people said and then stare with his mouth open.
Okay, Gerard was being less-than-generous with himself. He knew how to have a normal conversation. But God, why was he so nervous?
Frank licked his lips, wetting them, saying something to Mikey about moving furniture. He had a scorpion and some other writing tattooed high on his neck. When he lifted his cigarette to his mouth, his hands were covered in tattoos as well.
Gerard was staring. He knew he was staring when Frank's gaze flicked back to him and his pouty mouth quirked up into a smirk.
"How long have you lived here?" he asked Gerard.
Gerard cleared his throat, turning to look at Ray even though Frank asked the question. "Like five years. My apartment was our Grandma's before she passed, and I took over the lease," he said. "There are a lot of old people in this building."
Frank chuckled. "Yeah, I noticed that. It'll be nice and quiet."
"It's super quiet," Gerard said, looking back to Frank, but settling his eyes on his forehead. Nice, safe forehead. "I can hear you through the wall it's so quiet."
"Um."
He could almost hear Mikey's brain log off, as Gerard's mouth took them deeper and deeper into the pits of an awkward conversation.
"Like I can hear your guitar."
Frank and Ray were looking at each other, some sort of weird, non-verbal mind melding. He could tell they were thinking the same thing. Probably that New Neighbour Gerard was a freak who sat up all night with a cup to the wall, listening in.
"Are you in a band?" Mikey asked.
Frank nodded, throwing the butt of his cigarette into the gutter. Gerard almost warned him not to, because Mrs. Thompson on the first floor swept the parking lot twice a week, and she knew every smoker in the building and would go on a warpath.
But he had done enough damage.
"We're in a band together," Ray said. "We actually should get going. We have practice soon."
"That's cool," Mikey said. "Well, see you around."
Frank and Ray started walking toward a panel van on the other side of the parking lot. Frank turned back halfway to the van and said, with a wave, "See you around, neighbour."
When they were gone, Mikey said, "That could have gone better."
Gerard blew his hair out of his face. "Goddamnit."
"You've done worse," he said.
"I've definitely done worse," Gerard admitted. "Come on, lets go get a coffee or something. It's fucking cold out."
A week later, Gerard watched Frank and Ray unload a big stack of soundproofing foam from the panel van and bring it upstairs.
Gerard smacked his own forehead not-so-softly off of the windowsill once, then let his head rest there, before going back to his drawing table.
When Gerard opened his mail cubby the next afternoon, his heart sank.
Someone (the mailman, obviously) had taken the cardboard sleeve of a print he'd bought online and folded it in half to fit in the mailbox.
He tugged on the cardboard until it came loose, gritting his teeth in annoyance, then folded it back the right way. "Motherfucker," he grumbled.
He dropped his leather satchel between his feet, hearing his coloured pens clatter around inside, and ripped it open. Someone opened the back door of the lobby, letting in the cold air and sound of skittering leaves. The print inside, a scan of an elaborate collage of household crap formed into a saint with bleeding eyes, had a big seam down the middle.
"That's sick," someone said behind him.
Gerard turned and saw Frank the Neighbour, cheeks red from the cold, with his keys in his hand.
"Yeah," Gerard snorted, grumpiness overwhelming his awkwardness. "It would have been better if the fucking mailman didn't origami the fuck out of it."
"You could set a heavy book on it," Frank said.
Gerard crammed the saint back into its cardboard sleeve. "I'll do that," he said with a sigh, swinging his mail slot closed.
"Going up?" Frank asked.
Oh yeah. They lived on the same floor.
"Yeah, I'm just getting in," Gerard said. He picked up his satchel, not realizing it wasn't clasped, and overturned the entire thing onto the floor, sending pens, loose change, his sketchbook and little scraps of doodles all over the lobby floor. "Fuck!"
Gerard slid down to his knees, making a dramatic noise of defeat, and started raking his crap into a pile to put back in his bag. Frank was laughing a little as he crouched down to help him out. Gerard watched him pick up a ripped out piece of paper with an overly detailed drawing of a big, warty frog and grin down at it.
"This is also sick," Frank said.
Gerard felt his face and neck go hot. He wanted to snatch it out of his hand, but focused on grabbing all the other drawings first.
"It's a portrait of my old boss," Gerard said.
Frank's laugh was crazy, hyena music to his ears. He helped Gerard stuff some of his pens back into his bag, then offered him a hand to get up off the floor.
"Do you sell your art? I really liked that frog."
Frank hit the button for the elevator and the door slid open immediately. The elevator always smelled like grandma perfume and spaghetti sauce, with a little bit of laundry sheet thrown in. It made Gerard miss his grandma so bad sometimes his heart ached.
"I have, like, an online store," he mumbled. "I sell prints, but, um if you like one I can just give it to you."
"Really? You don't have to do that."
"No, it's cool. It's not a big deal. Do you have a minute? I can show you."
Gerard realized he hadn't really been looking at Frank the whole time they were talking, and he chanced a glance at him. He was wearing a huge black sweater under his patch jacket that swallowed him up, hung almost to his knees.
And there was a big scratch on his face, from just above his ear down over his jaw. As soon has he noticed it, Frank put his hand up to rub at it, like he knew Gerard was staring.
"Yeah, I have a minute," Frank said.
Oh God.
The elevator stopped on their floor and Gerard stepped out into the hallway, fumbling for his keys. What state was his apartment in? Did the garbage smell? Were there underwear hung from the side table lamps?
Sometimes Gerard forgot to get money for the laundry machine in the basement and had to wash his underwear in the sink, it wasn't his fault...
Frank was looking at his phone while Gerard unlocked the door to his apartment. He took a quick sniff as soon as the door opened. No garbage smell. Actually, it was pretty okay inside. He swung the door open and dropped his satchel on the chair.
When Gerard took over the apartment, he kept all of his Grandma's furniture, her TV, her kitchen table, all of her cookware... But his mom had taken most of the décor and family photos, leaving the place splashed with Gerard's posters and framed artwork, along with his clutter.
It was a nice, comforting mix of old lady and young man.
Frank followed him in. "Oh wow," he said. "The layout is so different."
"Yeah, you have the corner unit, so you get the double living room windows," Gerard said. "And I have an extra bedroom."
"You really know this building," Frank laughed.
Gerard flipped on the lights in the hallway. The sun wasn't ready to set, but it was cloudy outside. "My grandma lived here my entire childhood," Gerard said. "I've been in your apartment like a million times. Her best friend was next door."
"That's really sweet," Frank said.
Mikey lived in the second bedroom for a year before moving in with his girlfriend, which left it free for Gerard's art set up. He led Frank into the room, forcing himself to just open the door and not overthink it.
He had his drawing desk set up by the bank of windows, a desktop with a digital drawing pad beside it, then the rest of the room was taken up by two plastic folding tables, where he packed and stacked his orders. There was a set of drawers, labelled in dry erase marker, filled with different prints.
"Oh shit, this is legit," Frank said. "Is this like your full time job?"
Gerard bit his lip. He hated talking about things he was good at, it felt... attention seeking.
"Yeah, I do this and I freelance for a couple comic books," he said. "I do a lot of character design and colouring."
"That is really fucking cool, Neighbour," Frank said.
And Gerard wondered, idly, if he knew Gerard's name.
He frowned, but Frank looked oblivious. His eyes were darting around everywhere, taking it all in. "You can look through any of those drawers, take whatever you like," Gerard said.
The bigger prints were in tubs stacked in the closet. He didn't sell as many of those.
Gerard sat down in his computer chair and put his feet up on the stool at his drawing desk, watching Frank rifle through the drawers.
"I love all of them," Frank said. "You have a real thing for spooky shit."
"It's fun to draw."
Frank slid another drawer open and barked out a laugh. "Now this, I love," he said, pulling out a print.
It was a furious, coked-out looking wolf in a two-piece suit and glasses on an old cell phone, standing on a busy street.
"It's the Wolf of Wall Street," Gerard said.
Frank turned around, holding the print, with a sneaky-looking grin on his face. Something about his expression made Gerard's mouth go dry. Fuck, he's hot.
"This is the one," Frank said, sliding the drawer closed without looking at it. He held the drawing up. "Thanks a lot, I appreciate it."
Gerard got to his feet quickly. "I'm glad you like it."
He let Frank step out into the hallway first, watching him take in the little details of the drawing from behind.
They were almost at the front door when an awful, low-pitched yowling started in the living room.
Frank looked up just as a puffed up piece of shadow came charging out from under the couch. Frank jumped back, knocking into Gerard's chest.
"Kibbles, no!" Gerard shouted.
He got Frank behind him just in time for Kibbles to wrap herself around Gerard's boot. He couldn't feel her claws, but even if he could he was used to it. He grabbed the cat by her scruff and hauled her into his arms.
She was still puffed up, making a low murmuring noise.
He looked back at Frank, who was staring at the cat in abject horror.
"I'm sorry, Kibbles is old and mean," Gerard said.
Frank was edging out of the door, away from the cat. "I didn't mean to intrude, Kibbles," he said politely. "Thanks again!"
Gerard felt like he should say something else, but Kibbles was starting to claw up his shoulder to get out of his grip. "Fuck, ow!" he said. "Ok bye."
He closed the door quickly and dropped the cat to the floor. She sprinted off into the darkening living room.
Fuck. Okay, well that went mostly okay.
Gerard's ears rang in the silence of the apartment for a second. He leaned forward, looking out the peephole, expecting empty hallway.
He watched Frank take a photo of the print with his phone, grinning that little grin to himself, then go to his own apartment.
"You approach the troll. He is a towering, odorous colossus, with a broadsword of rusted bronze. He is stronger than you, but his vision is poor. You — "
A crash outside, in the apartment building hallway.
Mikey and Pete looked at each other from across the dining table. Gerard only had the old 70s hanging light above the table on, the rest of the apartment illuminated by about a dozen candles, some real and some fake.
There were six of them on the quest.
Mikey was dressed in a shiny shirt that looked like chainmail in the right light. Patrick and Pete were both wearing wizard hats and Andy had started the night off with elf ears, but gave up when he couldn't hear anyone properly.
Gerard was in his mage cloak sweater. It was black and long, with a jagged medieval kind of cut, covered in buckles that cinched it up at the side. When they played, he painted a solid red line from the centre of his forehead down his throat.
He got real into it.
Another crash, a laugh, and the door to Frank's apartment opened and slammed. He could hear thumping, the bass of a serious stereo set up, through the wall.
"We just can't get through this story," Joe complained.
He'd forgotten his costume at home and had been moping for most of the session anyway.
It was Friday night, almost 11p.m., and Gerard wasn't surprised Frank was having a party. But the guestlist didn't seem to end.
"She's gonna come over here," Mikey sighed.
"I know she's gonna come over here."
Patrick took his hat off. "Maybe we should call it a night," he said, "if she's just going to come over here."
And speak of the devil, there was a knock at the door. The six guys all deflated.
"I'll deal with it," Gerard sighed, pushing out of his chair.
The rest of the guys moved all of the snacks into the living room, giving up on the quest, as Gerard was forced onto a quest of his own.
He opened the door into the hall.
"Hi Betty," he said politely.
The little grey woman on the other side of the door didn't seem bothered by his make up or the candle light inside the apartment. She had known Gerard since he was a baby. She always missed the second R in his name, in that sweet, Jersey way. Everything about her was friendly and sweet, which was how she always convinced him and Mikey to do so many chores for her.
"Gerard, honey, I can't hear myself think," she said.
"I'm sorry, Betty, we aren't making the noise," he said.
She knew damn well it wasn't him making the noise. "I know, sweetie, but there are a lot of them over there, and I don't know about that new guy," she said. "I don't think I can talk to those people. Would you be a doll and ask them to be a little quieter?"
Gerard looked up the hallway, to the last apartment. The bass from the music was even louder in the hall. Gerard bit his bottom lip. He would rather do anything but.
"I've talked to Frank a couple times," he said, reassuringly. "He's a nice guy. I can ask him to turn the music down."
Betty squeezed his arm. "Good boy," she said, and shuffled her walker back to her apartment.
Gerard watched her go inside the door, leaving it open a crack to make sure he did what he was told. He sighed and stepped out into the hallway, leaving his own door cracked too. Inside the apartment, Mikey had turned on the living room lamp and was fiercely advocating they look on Prime instead of Netflix for a movie.
Gerard hovered outside Frank's door. He could hear about a dozen or more people talking over each other, while one very loud drunk voice in particular seemed to be struggling through telling a story.
Gerard looked back down to Betty's door and swore he saw her watching from the shadows. Creepy.
He knocked once. No one stopped talking.
He knocked again, louder and longer. Still nothing.
He could either pound on the door with the side of his fist, like a S.W.A.T. team leader, or just open the door. Or, third option, go back into his apartment and turn up the TV and ignore the party.
Gerard was about to choose the third option, when the door swung open, and a hot blonde woman in a leather corset almost ran into him. The sound of the party and smell of booze blasted him in the face.
"Ahh!" the woman screamed, then started laughing. "Dude, what the fuck? Is it Halloween?"
That was when Gerard remembered he was dressed like a druid Edward Scissorhands with a big red paint line down his face.
"Um — "
"Look at this guy!" the woman shouted over her shoulder.
Frank was behind her. Frank, who was in the tiniest white band t-shirt Gerard had ever seen, with a two inch strip of tattooed hip just out there, for Gerard to see. He was more slender than Gerard had expected, and his hair was all gelled and styled to look edgy and flippy and Gerard wanted to fuck with it, make it stick up all crazy. He had a piece of chain around his neck, cinched with a little gold padlock. Fuck.
The birds tattooed on his hips made Gerard dry-swallow.
Frank's mouth was hanging open. "Holy shit," Frank said. "You look in-fucking-sane, neighbour."
Frank sauntered forward, wrapping his arm around the blonde woman's waist. He looked, sounded and smelled fucking wasted.
He's making fun of me. Oh no.
Gerard nervously reached up to put his hand in his own hair and realized the long, slouchy hood was still up. For fuck sakes. He swiped it down, knowing his hair was probably a big hay stack.
Frank leaned forward, still holding onto the woman for support, inspecting Gerard's face.
"That's metal as fuck," he breathed. "Are you some kind of fuckin' wizard?"
"Other people on the floor are complaining that your music is too loud," Gerard said.
Sounding and feeling like a lame-o. He thought Frank would laugh in his face again.
"Awe, Frankie, we're too noisy for the old people," his (probably?) girlfriend said.
"We'll try to be quieter," Frank stage whispered, blasting Gerard with his booze breath, but Gerard knew they wouldn't be.
God, he felt like such a fucking narc. He knew he probably made a face at the smell of Frank's breath.
"Sorry to bother you," Gerard said awkwardly.
He turned back toward his own door.
"Later, neighbour," he said, and the girl beside him laughed.
Gerard could still hear her laughing when Frank shut the door.
Betty's door was closed. She was probably getting ready to call the superintendent, now that Gerard had humiliated himself and proven useless.
He slumped down onto the floor in front of the couch, defeated.
The boys were watching Willow with the sound cranked. No one acknowledged Gerard's misery, but Mikey half-heartedly kicked him in the ribs.
When the boys finally left, the party was still going strong next door.
Gerard's bedroom was against Frank's bedroom, so it was loudest in there. He put his pillow on the couch and went to bed in the living room.
Two days later, on Sunday morning, Gerard was baking biscuits when there was a knock on his door.
He didn't look out the peephole before swinging the door open, because Mikey and his mom were on their way over.
But it was Frank on the other side, in his big hoodie and sweatpants, looking kind of... sheepish.
"Heeeeey neighbour," he said.
Gerard had a faded apron from the 70s and a pair of oven mitts on. He wondered for a second if it was just fate that kept doing this to him, putting him face to face with his hot neighbour while in a ridiculous get up.
"Hey," Gerard said back. "Uh, what's up?"
Frank licked over his lip ring and Gerard watched the flick of his tongue. He rang his mitted hands together.
"I want to apologize for Friday. I didn't mean to invite that many people over," he said. "And I kind of lost control of the party."
Gerard shrugged. "I honestly didn't care," he said, then pointed diagonally across the hall. "She's the one who cared. I'm just her indentured servant."
Frank didn't laugh, but looked seriously over at Betty’s door. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, it wasn't cool anyway. I think I was rude to you. About your... outfit."
The oven dinged. Thank God.
"I need to get that," Gerard said.
He meant to give a quick goodbye and shut the door, but Frank took it as an invitation and stepped into the apartment.
Gerard backward walked into the kitchen, not sure of what to do.
"But I have to ask," Frank said. "Why were you dressed like that?"
Gerard sighed, opening the oven. It made the whole kitchen smell so homey, made the windows in the dining area steam up with the heat. "It was D&D night," he said. "I'm a dungeon master."
"Oh!" Frank said. "That's cool."
Gerard snorted, pulling out the baking tray. "It's, like, the opposite of cool. We’ve been playing together for like 8 years though, so we get really into it."
"I wasn't being a dick," Frank said. "That really does sound cool. It sounds like fun. I love stories."
"Yeah?"
Frank nodded, almost eager. "For real, I'm a big reader. I read like a book a week sometimes."
"Oh! Well, cool," Gerard said. "That's probably, like, good for you. For your brain."
Frank gave him a strange look, but he was smiling. Gerard was waving the oven door subconsciously, he realized, letting the heat waft out.
"It's warm," he said. "Feels nice."
And Frank said a soft, "Yeah."
Gerard was struggling to read the tone in the room. He looked down at the pan of biscuits. "Do you want one? They are cheddar and onion."
Frank shook his head. "I don't really eat cheese," he said. "But thank you."
Then they both heard the elevator at the end of the hallway open and Gerard could hear his mom ragging on about the garbage in Mikey's car.
"That's my mom and my brother," Gerard said. "I should, uh..."
Frank looked from Gerard's face to the tray of biscuits and back again, then grabbed one and turned around. "You know what, these look really good," he said on his way out the door. "Thanks, neighbour!"
A second later, Mikey and his mom came in through the open door.
"Gee, baby, those smell delicious," his mom said. "And you made them from scratch? What an angel."
It was very late.
Later than Gerard really had any reason to still be awake, but sometimes his best work came from burning the midnight oil. The road below was quiet, a still lake of concrete, and he was huddled up in his winter coat, hat, and wrapped in a black blanket.
He'd finished his cigarette a long time before, but stayed staring out into the cold night, willing his mind to settle down.
He had ink stains all up his wrists, which were starting to hurt from drawing for so long
It was peaceful outside. Cold, but the cold was making him tired. Just another minute of looking at the city lights and the few stars bright enough to show above, and he would be ready for a hard pass out.
Then he heard the door slide open on the balcony beside his.
Gerard stayed very still. He hadn’t seen Frank in a couple weeks.
It was dark, and he was partially obscured by a big, plastic outdoor storage bin. He watched Frank half stagger out onto his balcony in a pair of thin black boxer briefs.
Holy fuck.
He had to be freezing.
Gerard bit his lip, eyes tracing over the inked, exposed skin. He was so pale he seemed to glow in the dull light from the street below. The moon was mostly round above them, and Gerard's eyes were adjusted to the night. He could make out a long set of healing scratches over Frank's ribs. They looked like they had been painful.
He watched Frank light a cigarette between his lips, leaning against the railing.
They were close enough that Gerard could see his hair was stuck to his neck with sweat. He swallowed hard, staring openly at the curve of Frank's spine, the two little dimples pooling with shadow on his lower back. He was leaned over on the railing with his back almost arched, and Gerard could see he was breathing hard.
His hips were so narrow, Gerard thought, and his hands would cover so much territory if he wrapped them around —
The door opened again, and the woman from the party stepped outside, wearing the big sweater Frank seemed to always be swallowed up in.
Gerard looked down at the lumps his hands made under the blanket. God, he was such a freak.
"Give me that," he heard the girlfriend say, and from the corner of his eye watched her take Frank's cigarette and pull a drag.
Gerard couldn't look away for long. Whatever, it wasn't like they knew he was there.
He watched the woman wrap herself around Frank's back, watched Frank lean back into her touch while she trailed kisses from behind his ear, down his throat, over his shoulder.
Gerard needed a glass of water. And a psychologist. Maybe an exorcist, because obviously he was fighting demons the way watching his neighbour make out with his girlfriend was making his dick hard.
But it was the way Frank leaned back against her, tilting his head to the side. He looked so... pliant.
He watched the woman bite down on Frank's shoulder and Frank whined. The noise. It made Gerard's face go hot. He could feel his pulse all over his body.
Then the door opened again. What?
Another man stepped outside, also in nothing but boxers. Gerard watched with his eyes bulging out of his head as the man took the cigarette from the woman and wrapped his hand around Frank's throat.
Frank made a content little noise, limp between them.
"You think he's ready to go again?" the woman laughed.
Gerard dug his fingernails into his own thigh under the blanket. Frank was nodding desperately.
"I'm ready, I promise. Please fuck me, Danica," he said, voice hoarse. "I'll be so good for you."
Gerard tilted his own head back, mouth hanging open. Should he stick his fingers in his ears? What the fuck?
"Aw honey, I know you will," the woman chuckled against Frank's skin. "Such a good, good boy."
The man must have tightened his hold on Frank's throat because he heard him choke a little. Gerard had to go. He had to go. He had to...
He heard someone take a long inhale through their nose, then laugh.
"Someone's out here," Danica said.
Gerard's heart was pounding. He felt his stomach turn from hot desire to sour anxiety.
"Peeping Tom?" the man said.
And Frank, his voice broken and desperate, said, "I don't care. I don't care. Please, please fuck me."
"Alright, Frank, come on," the man said, and must have pulled Frank back into the apartment.
Gerard didn't see. He was staring at his own hands again, face burning. There was no way they knew he was there. He was behind the bin.
He waited for a second, then glanced over again. Danica was at the railing, staring at him. "I know you're there," she said. "It's okay."
Gerard waited for a second, but she didn't seem to be going away any time soon. He stiffly unfolded himself from the lawn chair, draped in his comforter.
"I didn't mean to, um," he said, his voice cracking.
She was leaning over the railing, face split open with a grin. Gerard swore for a minute there was a flash of yellow in her eyes. A trick of the light, but it made his skin crawl.
"He's being very good tonight," she purred. "If you would have asked earlier maybe you could have joined. Frankie can be a lot to handle."
Gerard's mouth was so dry he couldn't form words. "Uh..."
The patio door to Frank's apartment was still cracked open enough that Gerard heard, clear as day, Frank let out a long, low moan. Gerard's eyelids fluttered against his will. God, what a fucking sound.
Her grin somehow grew even wider. "Next time," she said. "I have to get back to it."
And then she slipped back into the apartment.
Gerard was not proud of how fast he came, half naked in his bed, with his free hand pressed against the wall he shared with Frank.
After a week of successfully avoiding Frank, Gerard ran into him face-to-face on a Thursday afternoon.
The elevator door slid open, and bam, there he was, holding a grocery bag and looking at his phone. When he looked up, they locked eyes and Gerard watched two little points of pink bloom high up on his cheeks.
Gerard stepped out of his way, suddenly very interested in his boots.
"Sorry, man," he said, but it wasn't really for being in the way.
Frank slid out past him, also looking at his shoes. "No worries," he mumbled.
The elevator door started to close and Gerard went to stick his hand out to keep it open, but then let it slide shut anyway. He looked back up the hallway in time to see Frank drop his keys on the floor and mutter, "Fuck off."
"Um, Frank," Gerard said.
Frank froze, crouched to grab his keys. They were pretty far away to be having this conversation, but Frank said, "Yeah?"
"Can we talk for a minute?"
Frank looked down the long hall at him. "Okay," he said, then grabbed his keys and unlocked the door, still bent down.
He went into his apartment but left the door open for Gerard.
The apartment looked so different with Frank's things in it. There was a modern, low leather couch taking up the wall where Mrs. Applegate's china cabinet had been. Frank's TV unit was huge and filled with records and CDs, and there were six guitars hung up on the wall near the couch, and a couple big, professionally framed band posters Gerard guessed were probably from the actual shows themselves.
The place even smelled different. Like pine and paper and good cologne. Fuck, it smelled good. Gerard cast a cursory glance over at the sliver of darkness leading into Frank's bedroom.
Frank was at the kitchen island. His apartment was a little brighter with the extra windows, but his kitchen was smaller than Gerard's. Open concept instead of a galley. Gerard didn't really think about it, just slid onto one of the kitchen stools.
"I wasn't being a Peeping Tom," Gerard said. "And I'm really sorry."
Frank was pulling his groceries out one by one. Seitan, oat milk, cucumbers, a big bag of spinach. He blew out a breath.
"I feel like I should say sorry," Frank said. "I didn't know you were outside. I was..."
He broke off, like he stopped himself from saying something, then pressed his lips together.
"I was..." he tried again, finally looking at Gerard. "I just get weird sometimes."
Gerard rubbed his hands on his jeans, to get rid of the nervous sweat. "I don't think it's weird," Gerard said. "I was weird for not saying anything. You thought you were alone with your girlfriend."
Frank laughed at that. "Danica is not my girlfriend," he said.
Gerard couldn't school his face fast enough, and whatever look passed over him made Frank laugh again. "Oh, I just thought — "
Frank pulled out a little bag of chocolate covered almonds. He'd already opened it on the way home from the store and popped one in his mouth. "It's a whole thing," he said. "But we aren't together. She's with Dallon."
"Dallon?" Gerard asked.
"The, uh, other guy," Frank said, and Gerard could see his neck was flushed under the tattoos. "Almond?"
Gerard took one, and they both chewed silently for a minute.
"I just... don't want you to feel awkward. I didn't see anything," Gerard said.
But he kept thinking about what Danica said. That next time, if he asked... Too weird. Especially now that he knew she wasn't even Frank's girlfriend.
"It's better it was you than Betty," Frank said.
"Oh, she would be dead. 100%," Gerard said. And then he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. "Mikey's probably outside. We're going to the movies."
Frank nodded with a little smile. "Okay. I'm glad we talked."
Gerard got up, letting his gaze sweep over Frank, from his rolled up sweater sleeves to his perfectly arched eyebrows, his hair a little curled up from the wind and the snow outside. He realized he was very obviously checking him out, but just kind of went with it.
What was the harm? He was interested. And Frank didn’t seem like he was dating anyone.
"Me too. And I really like what you've done with the place," Gerard said, feeling his mouth twist up crookedly.
Frank's cheeks were red again, his hands curling against the counter. He followed Gerard to the front door.
"I'll see you around... neighbour," Gerard said, still smirking a little.
"Bye, Gerard," Frank said softly.
Oh shit.
"I rizzed him up."
"What did you do?"
"Eye contact, smirk, the whole thing."
"Look at you go."
"Dude, I think it worked."
"I bet it did. You're a fucking menace."
"He was so into it. And he knew my name the whole time. I pulled the Reverse Uno and called him neighbour."
"Smooth. Buy me a popcorn."
"Buy your own popcorn!"
"Split with me."
"No, Mikey, you're going to inhale it before the movie starts and leave me with the crumbs."
"You love crumbs."
Two weeks later, Gerard was in his pajamas, watching a movie.
It was only 8p.m., but it was getting dark out so early and he really had nowhere to be on a blustery, frigid November weeknight.
He was mostly-asleep when there was a knock at the door.
Frank looked tiny through the distortion of the peephole, but he kind of looked tiny all the time. Gerard patted at his hair, which was half up in an elastic to keep it out of his eyes, gave up and opened the door.
"Hey!" Frank said. "Are you busy?"
Gerard rubbed at his face. "Not at all. I think I fell asleep."
Frank gave him a sweet little smile at that. "Can I come in for a second? I wanted to show you something."
Gerard stepped back from the door and let him in. Kibbles was knocked out on her back on the armchair, but she stirred when Frank came in the living room and slid down the hall to hide in Gerard's room.
The TV was paused and the warm, yellow light of the side lamp made Gerard want to curl up into a ball and pass back out.
Gerard flopped down on the warm spot on the couch where he'd been napping and pulled his fuzzy black blanket over him again. He rested his head on the back of the couch, propping himself up. Frank sat down beside him, almost right on Gerard's feet.
He was pulling something out of his backpack.
"I got this today! At the store!"
The cover made Gerard perk up a little, because it was partially the reason he was so fucking tired. The cover for the new Doom Patrol. He had a credit inside, for sure, but he was shocked Frank knew he'd helped colour it.
"It just came out. I knew you'd done a couple Doom Patrols, because I Googled your name," Frank said. "So when I see them I always check, you know, for your name."
He was absolutely beaming at Gerard.
Gerard swallowed a lump in his throat. "That's really nice of you," he said.
Frank was flipping through the pages. "So how does it work? Which ones did you work on?"
He scooched closer, sitting right on Gerard's feet and leaning over to rest the book on Gerard's knees.
"Okay, so I did the cover," Gerard said, taking the slim comic book from him. "And the centrefold."
He opened the book up to the middle, a big fight scene that had taken Gerard ages to colour, then re-colour. Then change his mind and go back to the original colour.
"It was a fucking headache. There's a lot happening here," he said. "I was cutting it close with the deadline on this one and I wasn't sure how it turned out. I've kind of been losing sleep over it."
"It looks great," Frank said. "It's just cool as fuck, you know?"
They were so close, Frank's body heat was soaking into the blanket. Gerard could smell him, like outside and rich cologne and the cinnamon gum he was snapping between his back teeth. It would be so easy to lean in like this and press their lips together.
"What do you do?" Gerard asked, his voice coming out almost too soft. "For work?"
Frank was still looking down at the comic book. "I'm a mail carrier," he said. "I get a lot of steps in."
"Oh, that's really cool," Gerard said, half-remembering he'd talked shit about their building's mailman almost a month earlier. "But you make music?"
Frank snapped the book shut. "I'm a guitarist in like, three bands, technically," he said. "And the singer in one of them. And I do stuff with synthesizers too."
"Holy shit."
Frank's knee was jogging up and down. "I have a lot of energy sometimes," he said. "Playing live helps me get it out, you know?"
Gerard was immediately thinking of Danica on the balcony, saying, 'Frankie can be a lot to handle.'
He seemed kind of wound up right then. "I just got so fucking excited when I found this, man," he said, meeting Gerard's eyes with his big, sweet green ones. His hand slid up onto Gerard's knee. "I think you're really cool."
Gerard sucked in an unsteady breath. His eyes flicked down to Frank's lips, to the corner where the hoop was, then back up to Frank's eyes.
Frank leaned in, slowly, watching Gerard's face the whole time, and pressed their lips together gently. Gerard closed his eyes, let his own hand cover Frank's, feeling the soft pressure of their lips together.
Frank let out a breath through his nose, like he'd been holding it, and leaned back.
"Was it okay I did that?" Frank asked.
Gerard nodded, because he wasn't sure what his voice would sound like if he spoke.
"Can I watch your movie with you?" he asked, voice so soft it was almost a whisper.
Gerard nodded again, then cleared his throat. "It's a really stupid movie. I’ve missed most of it."
"That's okay," Frank said, standing up. "Get comfy."
Gerard laid out on the couch with his head propped up on the arm, while he watched Frank slip off his jacket and his hoodie. He spit out his gum into a little piece of paper and Gerard watched him shove it into a pocket in his backpack. Gerard felt kind of mesmerized.
Frank had another very tight t-shirt on and a baggy pair of sweatpants. He lifted up Gerard's blanket, and crawled on top of him, slotting their legs together and getting comfortable with his head on his chest.
Gerard shivered hard at the touch. Fuck, he hadn't done this in years. Just cuddled with someone. It felt so... right. And Frank was so fucking warm to the touch.
Gerard hesitated for a moment, then wrapped an arm around Frank's waist. He was slender, but his back felt strong and lean. His pinky grazed the soft skin of Frank’s bare lower back. When Frank sighed contentedly, Gerard felt like he was going to fucking melt.
Instead, he pressed play on the movie and pretended to watch it.
For the first minute he was nervous he was going to pop a boner from the contact, from the soft breath against his thin t-shirt. But Frank was so warm, and he really hadn't been sleeping well lately, and it wasn't long before Gerard found his eyes getting heavy.
Before he fell asleep, he swore he felt Frank take a long sniff of his shirt and whimper a little.
"It can't just be gone," Gerard sighed. "It has to be in this house somewhere."
But it wasn't. He'd looked everywhere. Even cleaned, for fuck sakes.
His Misfits shirt was gone. The really old one with the hole in the armpit. His comfort shirt.
The last time he wore it, he remembered balling it up and throwing it into his laundry pile. And he remembered it stunk. Really bad.
Like, worn for a week straight and deep into the night while catching up on work, sour, stale, bad bad bad smell.
"Maybe it crawled out the window and killed itself," Mikey said.
Gerard rubbed at his face, frustrated. He hadn't seen it in a week. Not since...
"Do you think he took it?" Gerard asked.
"Who?"
"Frank. Do you think he stole my shirt when he came over here?"
Gerard had been worrying himself in circles about it all week. Because he'd woken up in the middle of the night, disoriented, to find Frank gone. And he hadn't seen him since. He was sure Frank wasn't even home, because he'd knocked a couple different nights, and hadn't heard a peep out of his apartment.
"Maybe he did," Mikey said. "The dude seems weird."
Gerard didn't want to rag on Frank, but he didn't fully disagree. "That shirt literally had stink lines coming off of it. Why the fuck would he steal it?"
"Maybe he's a pervert."
"I don't think he's a pervert. But he might be a thief."
Mikey wasn't listening anymore though. He was absorbed in something on his phone.
He wasn't being a creep. He wasn't.
But he had been keeping an ear out for Frank.
If he was in the living room, near the door, he could hear Frank's boots and the jingle of his keys. He had a heavy footfall, unencumbered by a walker, that made him easy to pick out in their little corner of the building.
Gerard waited until Frank had passed his door before swinging it open.
"Hey!" he said.
Frank half-turned to look at him. He was wearing sunglasses even though it was dark out, hood pulled up, and looked bent over from exhaustion.
"Hey," he said, meekly.
"Did you steal my Misfits shirt?"
Maybe he should have said something like, "Are you alright?" or "Where have you been?"
But the question only made Frank grin. He reached up to the zipper at his neck and pulled it down, revealing he had the shirt on. It was huge on him.
"I borrowed it," he said.
Gerard grimaced. "Oh my God, why? It's, like, a biohazard."
Frank pulled the loose fabric up over his face and took a big whiff, then turned back around and kept walking to his door.
"I'll bring it back later. See ya, neighbour."
"What does it mean?" Gerard hissed into the phone.
"He's a weird pervert and he likes you," Mikey said. "Are we still on for D&D on Friday?"
"Of course we are."
"Here's your shirt," Frank said. The shirt was washed and folded neatly, but it wasn't the only one. "And I brought you something."
Gerard took the shirts from Frank, stumbling over his own feet and words. "Oh, thanks, thank you for returning it. I was going crazy, it's my favourite shirt. I was tearing the whole place apart looking for it."
Frank dropped down onto Gerard's couch, smiling up at him innocently. "I could tell it was your favourite," he said.
Gerard was standing over him, holding the little stack of fabric in his hands.
"You could?"
Frank nodded, still beaming at him, but didn't elaborate. "That's my favourite one," he said.
Gerard unfolded the other tee.
It was an old, thin shirt from the Belleville Farmers Market, a tomato holding hands with a bell pepper on it.
"Put it on," Frank said.
"Um."
He looked up and Frank's face was weirdly serious for asking him to put on what looked like a pajama shirt.
Gerard turned to face the TV and quickly pulled off his long sleeve, replacing it with Frank's. It was a little tight on him in the hips, but felt worn in and very comfortable.
He turned around with his arms out, saying a weak little, "Ta-da!"
There was something heavy about Frank's expression that made Gerard cross his arms, like he was covering up.
"It looks good," Frank said. And then he rubbed the spot on the couch beside him. "Sit with me?"
Gerard sat down, his fingers twitching a little. Frank didn't take his eyes off him the entire time.
"Can I?" he asked, leaning in.
Gerard nodded, parting his lips. He expected a kiss, like from the other night, but instead Frank surged forward, pressing his face into Gerard's throat, just breathing.
"Okay," Gerard said, dumbfounded.
Frank half-crawled into his lap, straddling him, taking big long breaths. Like Gerard was a can of paint and he was huffing.
"Um, okay."
He's a weird pervert and he likes me.
Frank was moaning a little, just from... what? Smelling?
"So fucking good," he said against Gerard's skin.
And he was rubbing his cheek against him, his hands politely on Gerard's shoulders. Then his face went lower, to Gerard's armpit, and that was kind of the line for him. The weird pervert part overpowered the part where Frank liked him.
"Okay, hold on," Gerard said, pushing him back. "What are you doing?"
Frank cocked his head at him. His eyes were glazed. "Smelling you?"
"Why?"
Frank blinked a few times, then swallowed nervously. "Oh... yeah, I guess that's weird."
Gerard's hands rested on Frank's thighs and he rubbed a little, soothingly. "It's not, like, bad. I'm just confused."
"It's kind of hard to explain," Frank said. "I really like how you smell."
Gerard was still rubbing his thighs a little, in a way he hoped was supportive. "I think you smell good too."
The grin that broke over Frank's face was enough to make him swoon. "You do?"
Gerard nodded. "Yeah, you have a nice cologne."
Frank leaned in and kissed his forehead. "I like smelling us together," he said against his skin. "It's really good. Makes... me feel really good."
"Okay, cool," Gerard said. "I can dig it."
Frank kissed him then, close mouthed, and Gerard sank back into the couch as they slowly found a rhythm together. Frank stayed in his lap, running his hands over Gerard's chest. Gerard opened his mouth first, just to tease at his lip ring lightly.
Frank sucked in a breath and pushed his tongue into Gerard's mouth, his hand sliding around to cradle the back of his head.
Fuck, he was a good kisser. So gentle, almost like he was just tasting him. Just hard enough to bring the blood rising to both of their lips. And the fingers in his hair rubbed soothing circles.
Gerard allowed himself to wrap his hands around Frank's hips, like he'd pictured that night a month ago, and shuddered when Frank keened into his mouth, rocking his hips down against him.
They were both hard, that was evident immediately.
Frank pulled back, gasping. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I can't."
Gerard held his hands up, in surrender. "It's okay, that's fine," he said. "I'm not pushing for anything."
Frank bit his lip. His face was red and Gerard noticed for the first time that he looked... incredibly sweaty. And his eyes were so glassy.
"I'm sorry, I really need to... I should go."
He rolled off of Gerard, hands shaking.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Frank let out a weird sort of whine, like he was in pain, and got up. Now that he was standing it looked like his whole body was shaking. He stumbled when he walked, holding onto the couch for support.
"Can I have my shirt back?" he asked.
"Like, the one I'm wearing?"
Frank bit his bottom lip hard, the skin white where his teeth really dug in, and nodded. "Please?"
Gerard stripped it off and handed it over, not even feeling weird about being shirtless like he usually was. There were much weirder things going on. Frank snatched the shirt out of his hand and shoved his face in it.
"Oh God. I have to go. I'm sorry."
"Do you need me to... call someone?"
Frank was half out the door, leaving his boots.
"It's okay. I'm fine."
Then he was gone again.
"Okay, I think he's on drugs."
"Oh no, I'm sorry dude."
"Like ecstasy or something. He was being so fucking weird."
"The sniffing?"
"Sniffing hard. And like sweaty and his eyes were all fucked up."
"That's a downer."
"Yeaaaaah..."
"Are you going to still talk to him?"
"Probably."
"You know you should keep away from that shit, Gee."
"I know, I know."
Gerard thought Frank would come back for his boots, but he didn't.
He waited until Saturday to bring them over, so whatever weirdness he experienced from Frank wouldn't mess with his D&D session.
He knocked and waited and was about to leave the boots in the hall when Ray opened the door.
"Hey," he said softly, stepping out and closing the door behind him. "He just fell asleep. We have to talk out here."
Okay, immediate weirdness.
"Uh, he left his shoes at my place on Thursday," Gerard said, handing them over.
Ray took them. "Yeah, he feels bad about that."
"Is he... okay?"
Ray made a face, like Frank wasn't okay but he was thinking of a polite way to say it. "He's not really himself right now."
Gerard sighed. "Okay. I get it."
That surprised him. "Yeah?"
"I had problems too," he said. "You know, with... doing too much."
Ray frowned at him but didn't say anything.
"Not for a long time, I've been sober for almost a decade," he said. "But I just hope he doesn't think I, like, judge him."
Ray crossed his arms. "So... Frank isn't on drugs," he said.
Gerard felt like a bird flying into a freshly cleaned window. "Oh."
"He has a condition. It's hard to explain," Ray said.
"People keep telling me that," Gerard said. He was still cringing from suggesting Frank was on drugs when he allegedly wasn't. "It's cool. Everything is cool. I'm gonna go home now."
He started walking away.
"Wait!" Ray said.
Gerard stopped and looked back at him.
"It's hard to explain. Like… it’s complicated," Ray said.
"Huh?"
He looked frustrated, holding Frank's dirty boots by the laces. "It's a whole fucking thing," he said. "But I promise, Frank's normal. He's a normal guy. We're all super normal."
"Okay, got it," Gerard said, mostly just to be able to escape the conversation.
Yeah, this whole thing seemed normal.
Then it looked like Ray had a flash of inspiration. "We have a show next Friday. At the Brick Factory. You should come. I bet Frank would really like it if you came."
Gerard said, "Yeah, I'll check it out," but had no intention of going.
The Brick Factory was packed.
"I didn't know Frank was in Death Spells," Mikey said. "You should have told me."
"I didn't know either," Gerard admitted. "He said he's in a bunch of bands."
"This one is kind of a big deal. I mean, locally," Mikey said. "I've seen them before."
There were a lot of young punks there, kids moshing to the opener that just sounded like pure noise to Gerard. The whole place smelled like booze and it made Gerard's stomach turn.
He spotted Frank for just a minute, running out from behind the stage to grab something. Gerard was more at danger of relapsing from stress than he was from being at a bar, but it was hard to enjoy shows sober for him sometimes. The whole atmosphere really drained him.
People kept stopping to talk to Mikey, and Gerard hovered on the edge of their conversations like a ghost, waiting to watch Frank play.
They'd tried to show up closer to the main act, but it was still an hour of lingering before the lights dimmed for Frank's band, and by then Mikey had begun drifting away, as he was wont to do, on a sea of acquaintances.
So in the end, Gerard hung around the side, watching the show by himself.
And it was delightful.
Frank was all over the place. It got Gerard hype to see him so hype, throwing himself around, fucking with a synthesizer, slamming himself to the ground in a guitar solo.
He met eyes with Ray once, but Frank didn't seem to notice him. He probably didn't even know he was there, and Gerard was kind of confused why he'd been asked to come in the first place.
At one point Frank launched himself into the crowd and a group of kids threw him around like a beach ball for a minute before a security guard dragged him out.
By the time the show ended, the venue was incredibly hot and the air was a fine mist of BO and smoke. Mikey was completely gone and Gerard wasn't convinced he should hang around.
But then suddenly there was a little punk chick in his face.
"Ray sent me over. Come backstage with me," she said.
Gerard looked around for Mikey again. Still nowhere. He was a big boy and could figure it out for himself, so he followed the girl through the thinning crowd. The house lights were on now and the sound system was playing fast paced indie rock.
Gerard and the punk girl went back through a set of black double doors, to a dim hallway, then out another set of double doors to a back alley.
The whole band was out there, along with Dallon and Danica, with about 10 other people Gerard had never seen before, smoking, drinking, doing a beer bong. It was a lot of people, a lot of loud people, but the second he stepped outside it was like everyone went quiet.
What the fuck.
Gerard stopped right outside the door, feeling like he was intruding. And he obviously was, because everyone was staring. Including Frank, who looked very confused about why he was there.
Ray stepped forward. "It's cool, I invited him," he said.
And everyone started talking again, not giving Gerard a second glance.
Gerard met Ray and Frank in the middle of the alley, his skin absolutely crawling. Frank was very interested in the bottom of his cup suddenly.
"I'm just going to say, if this is how you show me you guys are normal, it's not off to a great start," Gerard said.
Frank snorted a laugh and when Gerard looked at him, he was peaking up over the rim of his cup. He had those two little dots of colour again, so high up on his cheeks. But he was also soaked in sweat, with a blue towel wrapped around his neck.
"You might be right," Ray said, rubbing at the back of his neck. "But it's good to see you, man! Do you want a beer?"
"I don't drink," he said.
"Oh yeah..."
Gerard was looking at Frank and he wondered if Ray told him Gerard thought he was on drugs. Or that Gerard was sober. Frank wouldn't even lift his eyes up off the ground.
"I really liked your band," Gerard said, directed at Frank.
He finally met his eyes. "Thanks dude," he said. "I didn't know you were coming. I'm glad you came out."
"You definitely do... expend a lot of energy," Gerard said.
Ray laughed and ruffled Frank's hair before grabbing him in a headlock. "Yeah, he's a little shit disturber. We said no stage diving."
"I had the urge," Frank said, pushing his way out.
"It's just a big cuddle puddle, eh Frankie?" someone laughed behind him.
Frank threw an elbow backwards at some guy in a jean jacket, but it seemed like they were friends.
Gerard wrapped his arms around himself. He realized for the first time that most of the people around him were in t-shirts, even with the early November snow stuck to the ground all around them.
"Aren't you freezing?" Gerard asked, his teeth chattering.
"We don't really get cold," Frankie said.
Something about the way he said it made another shiver run through Gerard. "That's a spooky thing to say," he said.
Ray and Frank looked at each other, which only intensified the spookiness. Ray opened his mouth, but the door to the venue slammed open and everyone fell silent again. There was a stringy, pissed off looking guy covered in tattoos staring the three of them down.
"You seriously brought him here?" the guy snapped.
"Aw fuck," Ray said. "Tucker, chill out."
"I thought we said we weren't going to bring him around, Ray. What the fuck?"
"I'm leaving. This whole cult thing is freaking me out," Gerard said.
"Cult thing?" laughed Frank.
"Get the fuck going then," Tucker said, while continuing to block the way.
Gerard took a step forward and Ray put out his arm, stopping him. "Wait. Don't."
That was when Gerard noticed everyone had stepped back, lining the walls of the alley. Watching silently. And it was when Gerard noticed they were in more of a courtyard than an alley, because there was no exit.
"What the fuck," Gerard whispered.
"Tucker, back down," Ray said. "I make the decisions. I've decided to tell him."
Tell me what, he wanted to ask, but something about Ray's tone made him shut up. The other people in the alley were bowing their heads down, except for Ray, Frank and Tucker.
"You're just going to let Frank take off with a guy who can't even knot," Tucker spat, and a couple people gasped. "Fucking pathetic."
Gerard had no clue what that even meant, but before he could ask, an awful baritone rumble rose up from behind him. It was a deep animal sound that made Gerard's hair stand up on the back of his neck, and his brain flash, "Danger! Danger!"
Frank stumbled forward a couple steps, putting himself between Gerard and Ray, and Tucker.
It took a second for Gerard to realize it was Frank making the noise, like the grumble of a Rottweiler.
And another growl, rolling out from behind Tucker's bared, long teeth.
Ray put out his arm again, pushing Gerard back and back and back until they were almost against the closed wall of the alley.
"What the fuck," he whispered again.
Ray looked at him, exasperated. "Well, I guess this is one way to tell you," he said. “I’ve gotta let them duke it out for a minute.”
Then the bones started cracking.
Frank jerked forward, ripping his shirt off as he buckled onto his knees. He kicked back his feet and his boots skidded over the pavement. When his feet came back down, they were long, skinny hindlegs, tipped with sharp black claws.
Gerard could see Frank’s ribs snap outwards, his spine hunch and contort and grow. His tattoos spread and disappeared in a shiny, dark sheen of hair. Tucker was on his knees, his shirt was already ripped in half, his eyes bulging and yellow.
Both of them were snarling at each other, the noise making Gerard’s stomach turn.
Someone must have slipped Gerard something.
Then where Frank had been was a big... wolf thing. Not like a man, not like a real wolf. Fucking terrifying to look at.
Gerard didn't realize his legs had given out until his ass hit the snowy pavement.
Frank launched himself headlong down the alley, on all fours, smacking Tucker back into the metal door, leaving a big dent.
After that, Gerard couldn't really tell who was who. And he was kind of in and out of consciousness anyway, as his brain tried to rationalize what he was looking at. Two fucking wolf men beating the shit out of each other. One of them sliced the other good and blood splattered up the wall, spraying Danica in the face.
Gerard watched her tongue flash out to taste it, her eyes glowing golden.
"Werewolves," Gerard whispered. "Werewolves."
Ray gave him a little frown. "I was going to tell you," he said. "I didn’t think you would believe me, though.”
One of the wolves let loose a high, keening cry, and Ray snapped to attention.
"Enough!" he shouted.
Gerard took another minute to realize Frank, sweaty and blood soaked and shirtless, but mostly human looking, was on top of Tucker with his bare foot pinning his throat to the pavement.
"Let him up, Frank," Ray said.
Frank stepped off of him, his skin steaming. His eyes were that bright, unnatural yellow. His fingers were a little clawed, teeth too long for his mouth.
Tucker sat up, mostly naked and also covered in blood. "I'm looking out for you. He can’t give you what you need and you’re going to get hurt," he said, then pushed himself up onto his feet and stormed back into the Brick Factory.
Frank grabbed his shirt and towel off the pavement and started wiping the blood off of his body. He looked down the alley at Gerard, expression like the black clouds before a bad storm.
Gerard stared back at him with his ears ringing.
"I didn't want you to bring him here," Frank said, talking to Ray but looking at Gerard.
His voice was like a roll of thunder, stuck somewhere deep in his chest. The voice of a beast.
Frank was breathing heavily, whole body tensed with rage. He flexed his hands, then stomped back into the building too.
Gerard didn't realize Ray was standing over him, holding out a hand.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go talk to him."
Gerard felt like he was being walked through an alien spaceship on the way back into the venue.
Ray guided him at his elbow as he wobbled through the dark hallway, then down another hallway to the door of a green room.
Ray beelined for a little room in the corner with a drawing of a showerhead on the door. He knocked once.
"Frankie, come out. Gerard is here."
Frank kicked the door. A resounding "fuck off, go away."
Gerard wandered over to the saggy leather couch at the end of the green room and sunk down onto it. "Werewolves are real," he whispered.
Ray was watching him, but stayed in front of the door. "Frank, he's really confused. I need you to talk to him."
Silence. Gerard's ears were still ringing.
Then the sound of the lock to the shower opening.
Frank came out, still sweaty, not showered, and smeared with his own blood. Gerard couldn't help but think he looked like a character he would come up with, and that grounded him a little bit.
"You look cool," he said. His voice came out kind of distant.
Frank and Ray looked at each other again, doing that telekinesis thing they did. Gerard got it. Sometimes he did the same thing with his brother.
Frank edged closer slowly, like he didn't want to scare Gerard. He inched forward until he could sit on the edge of the couch beside him.
"Werewolves are real," Gerard said again, without realizing he was saying it. Just testing it out. Tasting it.
Frank looked at his face closely and said, "Yes, they are."
"I saw it," Gerard said. "For real."
Frank seemed completely lost on what to do. Gerard was staring at him, but there was a vacantness to his gaze.
"Did it hurt?" Gerard asked.
Frank cleared his throat. "A bit, but I was too mad to feel it," he said.
"This is crazy."
"It's... going to be okay?" Frank asked.
"Am I crazy?"
Frank shook his head. "No, you aren't crazy, you just saw werewolves."
"I want to go home," Gerard said.
Frank looked up at Ray. "Dude, can you drive us home?" he asked. "He doesn't look good."
Gerard was going to argue that he was fine, even though he didn't feel fine, but instead said, "I think I'm gonna barf."
The whole drive home Frank felt like he was going to barf too.
Gerard was almost catatonic, mumbling every once in a while that werewolves are real.
"I'm so sorry," Ray kept saying. "I just wanted to tell him, like, verbally."
Frank was pissed, but he couldn't get mad at Ray. Not even if he tried.
Frank helped Gerard get up stairs and unlocked his apartment door for him. He leaned against the wall with his head in his arms, while Frank tried to figure out which key went in the lock.
He heard a soft sound behind them and saw Betty peaking out of her door.
"Oh, Gerard honey," she said softly. "He was doing so well."
Frank frowned at her. "He's just feeling sick," he said.
He could tell she didn't believe him and felt another layer of guilt over everything.
Frank got the door open and was going to leave it to Gerard, but the way he was acting made Frank nervous.
He closed the door behind them. Gerard didn’t smell afraid of him. He’d leaned on him most of the way into the apartment.
Frank watched him turn on the light over the stove and open the cupboard above it, pulling out an orange pill bottle with shaking hands.
There was a little sheet of paper inside the bottle with tally marks on it.
Gerard dry swallowed the pill, ticked a mark off with a pen stuck to the fridge, and pulled out his phone.
Frank watched him, unsure if he was supposed to leave.
Gerard usually looked pale and timid and brooding, but right now he looked more like a scarecrow jerking in the wind.
“Gee, where are you?” he heard someone ask. “Did you go home?”
“Yeah. Having a panic attack. I took a Lorezepam. It’s marked on the sheet.”
Silence on the phone. “Tell mom in the morning,” Mikey said. “Do you need me to come over?”
“Frank is here,” he said. “I don’t feel real.”
“Can he hear me?” Mikey asked.
“Yeah,” Frank said.
“Can you stay with him?”
“I’ll stay with him,” Frank said.
“He’ll be okay. Just till the pill kicks in. He’ll fall asleep.”
“I’m gonna go,” Gerard said.
He hung up the phone and Gerard stayed frozen there. Palms up on the counter.
“Hey, come with me,” Frank finally said.
Gerard trailed after him, into his own bedroom.
Frank gritted his teeth. The change had put him on edge, heightened his senses, as the scent of sleep and sweat and Gerard coming from his bed hit his nose and the back of his throat.
What the fuck was he thinking, shifting like that in front of him.
He wasn’t thinking. He was in a rage. The next time he saw Tucker he was going to give him a piece of his mind, talking about fucking knotting in front of everyone. What kind of best friend was he?
Frank felt the hot sting of humiliation in his eyes. That motherfucker.
But he had to keep it together for Gerard.
He watched Gerard shove off his jeans then helped him flop down onto the mattress. The room was dark and cluttered, just a little light coming in from under the blinds. Frank sat on the edge of his bed while he curled up.
“Am I real?” Gerard asked.
Frank wanted to put his hand on Gerard, to ground him, but stopped himself. He didn’t want to make things worse by touching him.
“You’re real. It’s gonna be okay. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I thought you were on drugs. Not a werewolf.”
Frank couldn’t help but chuckle. “I mean, that makes more sense.”
He could see Gerard much better than Gerard could probably see him in the low light. He still had that vacant, confused look on his face.
“I know that was a lot, but… I would never hurt you,” Frank promised.
Gerard was shivering. It seemed like he was always cold, huddled up or shoved under a blanket or fanning the heat from the oven over himself.
Frank stood up and pushed Gerard’s blankets around until he could pull them over him. Gerard was curled up in a ball, shuddering.
His voice was small when he asked, “Can you hold me?”
Frank froze. He wanted to, but he was nervous he would start scenting Gerard again and make everything uncomfortable and scarier for him.
The thought of Gerard being afraid of him made his stomach twist in knots.
Be strong, breathe through your mouth.
“Yeah, uh, one second,” he said.
Frank took his keys out of his jeans pocket and pulled off his coat. He was still covered in dry sweat and flaking blood under his clothes, a long scratch from Tucker itchy from healing on his back.
He wanted a shower and to take a fucking shot, but Gerard didn’t seem to mind his grossness.
He likes your smell, the wolf whispered to Frank.
He closed his eyes, centering himself.
Gerard likes my cologne, idiot. It’s different.
When Frank slid in under the covers behind him, Gerard let out a content noise. Frank wrapped an arm around his waist and let his head rest on one of Gerard’s pillows.
The smell of him was overpowering. The musk and sweetness, like baking and spice and stale breath and B.O. Frank wanted to roll around in it. Push his face into Gerard’s armpit and cover himself.
Fuck.
Frank let himself sniff Gerard’s hair, just a little. His heart was pounding. He wanted to whine and lay on his back and show him his throat.
“You’re so warm,” Gerard sighed. “Is that a werewolf thing?”
There was something a little loose about his voice. The medication kicking in.
“Yeah, I run hot,” Frank said.
Gerard made a pleased noise and scooched in closer. They were plastered together now and Frank’s arm around him felt protective.
“That’s why you were huffing me?”
Frank felt himself go stiff.
He said, “Yeah,” but there was so much more to it. Now wasn’t the time.
“I think it’s cute,” Gerard said with a yawn. “I’m pretty rank sometimes though.”
Frank cleared his throat. Should he be honest?
“That’s the best part,” he said, and his voice came out more hoarse than he meant it to.
Gerard laughed, nasally and shrill. “Perv,” he mumbled.
Frank could feel his breaths come in slower and heavier through the hand splayed out over his stomach. He was just a little squishy and soft there and Frank wanted to press his face against his abdomen so bad it almost hurt.
He thought Gerard was sleeping and started to get up, but Gerard’s hand flew to his wrist, holding him in place.
“Don’t leave again,” he mumbled.
Frank gave him a squeeze. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
Not long after that, Gerard started snoring softly.
Frank thought about peeling himself off his back and going back to his apartment to shower, but the sound of Gerard sleeping began to relax him. His eyes got heavy and he pushed his face into the nape of Gerard’s neck, letting himself breathe in deeply before dropping off into sleep.
Gerard felt like he’d been hit by a truck, but he had to get up and call his mom.
Everything felt so thick and groggy the morning after taking his anxiety medication. He should have cut the pill in half, but his mom didn’t like it when he did that, because she’d caught him saving halves to take a bigger dose in the rocky first few months of his sobriety.
And sometimes cutting a pill felt like step one in grinding it up and shooting it up his nose.
Frank was still in his bed. Gerard felt kind of numbed out from the Lorazepam and stood over him for a second, watching him snore with his face mashed into Gerard’s pillow. His shirt had ridden up and Gerard could see the white line of a healing gouge on his back, where his shirt stuck to him with blood.
Huh.
He drifted out of the bedroom to the kitchen, where his phone was still on the counter. It was only 9a.m., but he had two missed calls from his mom.
Gerard pulled the bottle out of the cupboard and held the phone to his ear as he called her back.
“Honey, are you okay?” she asked.
Gerard rubbed at his face. “I feel fine now,” he said, but he didn’t feel fine at all. “It was a bad one.”
“Do you need me to come over? I can take you to the doctor.”
He was pulling open the bottle, making sure the tally mark matched the number of pills missing inside. “No mom, I’m okay.”
“What happened? The crowd? I told Mikey not to leave you alone,” she said.
“It’s okay, really. Mikey can leave me alone. That wasn’t it,” he said.
He looked down the hallway, to where his door was cracked open. He could see the bottom of Frank’s foot. He had no socks on and the sole was black from walking around in the alley and the music venue barefoot.
“I just saw a really bad fight. It freaked me out.”
She made a sympathetic noise, then paused, before she said, “And you took a whole one? How many are in the bottle?”
Gerard did the count quickly. “The bottle came with 30 pills, I’ve taken 7 since March. There are 23 left,” he said. “I took a whole one.”
“Okay, good. How about I come bring you a plate later?”
“That would be nice,” he said. “I’m going back to bed.”
“Love you, baby!”
“Love you too,” he said, and sagged against the counter when she hung up.
Gerard didn’t want to go back into his room, where the blood covered man was passed out. Even if he had begged that blood covered man to hold him last night.
He stretched out on the couch, his head swimming, and fell back asleep.
He didn’t hear Frank get up, but he heard the front door snick closed. Gerard found his phone crushed under his arm and saw he’d been asleep for another hour.
For a minute he just lay there in the sun, trying to gauge if the Lorazepam was wearing off. He smelled the coffee before he noticed the machine gurgling.
It roused him up off the couch and he shuffled into the kitchen. Frank had put on a pot of coffee.
There was a little note beside the machine that said “Taking shower brb.”
Oh God, he was coming back.
Gerard looked at the door, expecting him to show up immediately, but it stayed closed. He lunged for it and grabbed the deadlock, but froze.
What did he even want to do here?
He had so many fucking questions. It felt like the fabric of reality had rippled and Gerard was on the wrong side of it now.
That feeling of things not being real made the whole fucking room spin again and he braced himself on the doorframe.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
Settle down. Wash your face.
Gerard trailed his hand along the wall to the bathroom, doing the old five things you can see, four things you can touch…
Once he saw himself in the bathroom mirror it brought him back down to earth. He felt like shit and he looked like shit. He grabbed a comb and started hacking at his bedhead. He needed a haircut. He’d let it go for so long it was resting against his collarbone when he combed it all out.
Then he brushed the pasties out of his mouth and splashed some water on his face. He was in his room, pulling on new underwear and sweatpants, when he heard the door to the apartment open again.
Gerard had left the door open just a crack and hid behind it as he pulled his pants on the rest of the way. He guessed he should feel a little awkward that Frank had seen him in his boxers, but to be fair, he had seen Frank turn into a wolf man.
“Oh my God,” he said to himself.
Frank was sitting at his kitchen table with coffee for both of them. He’d put the cream on the table. His hair was wet and flat against his head. He gave Gerard a little smile when he came into the kitchen, but his eyes looked wary.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning.”
Gerard hovered next to the chair Frank had pulled out for him, holding onto the back for a moment, until he forced himself to sit down.
“Did you have a good sleep?” Frank asked.
Gerard played with the lid on the coffee cream. “I slept like a rock,” he said.
“Me too. You have a nice mattress.”
“Thanks.”
“So…” Frank took a sip of his black coffee. “Sorry it’s kind of weak.”
“Um.”
Frank scratched a spot high on his neck, avoiding Gerard’s eyes. “You’re okay, right? You were pretty spaced out last night.”
“I’m good. I just saw something absolutely earth shatteringly insane.”
Frank had a sheepish little smile when he said, “Was it when I turned into a big wolf monster?”
Gerard choked on his own spit.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t joke about it. Finding out is a big mind fuck.”
“Well how did you find out?” Gerard asked.
One of his 10,000 questions to come.
Frank took another sip of his coffee. “I was born like this,” he said. “You can’t turn someone into a werewolf. It’s more of a secret mutant society thing.”
“Ah. I see. And if I tell anyone you’ll have to kill me?”
Frank rolled his eyes. “No. But no one is going to believe you,” he said.
“Your secret mutant society is protected purely by no one believing the people that blab?”
“Well it’s worked so far. There are more of us than you’d think. People in high places and all that.”
Gerard frowned at him. “Do you turn into a wolf on the full moon?”
“Yes.”
“And go on a blood thirsty rampage?”
“No.”
“What do you do on a full moon then?”
“Run around with my pack. We own a property in New York.”
“Terrorizing the countryside?”
“Gerard, we’re not dangerous, I swear. We only fight each other and it’s for fun. If you’re a violent werewolf you’re already a violent person, you know?”
“It didn’t look like you were fighting for fun last night.”
Anger flashed over Frank’s face. “That was different. He crossed a line.”
“What was he talking about?”
Frank put his elbows on the table and hunched forward. “It was about some other stuff.”
“It sounded like it was about me,” Gerard said.
Frank sighed. “It was kind of about you. Some people in the pack don’t like that I’ve been showing an interest in you.”
“Oh.”
Gerard wanted to be serious, but the corner of his lips tugged into a crooked smile. He finally poured some cream in his coffee and took a big gulp of it. It was weak but all the better to chug.
Frank looked like he was arguing with himself on whether to explain it more.
“Werewolves can’t date humans?” Gerard asked.
“Most of them can without anyone caring. Some of us are different,” Frank said slowly. “It’s a hierarchy thing.”
“Are you like the leader then?”
“Ray is our leader, but he’s mostly a mediator. You don’t want to give that power to a total dickhead… But it’s not that serious, really. People come and go from packs all the time. Sometimes it’s just about where you live or if you have a hobby in common or whatever.”
“A supernatural Optimist Club.”
Frank let out a little peel of laughter. “Basically!” he said.
“So what are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re special but you’re not a leader. What are you?”
Frank licked his bottom lip nervously. “Is it okay if we don’t talk about that?”
Gerard opened his mouth to push, but there was something about the slump of Frank’s shoulders and how he lowered his head that stopped him.
“I’m not trying to be cagey. It’s just kind of personal.”
Gerard reached out and put his hand on Frank’s knee. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he promised. But Gerard had a feeling he was going to find out anyway.
Frank gave him a shy little smile. There was something so disarming about him, like Gerard could accept what he’d seen last night easier because it was Frank breaking the news to him.
They talked for most of the morning before Frank said he had to go meet his mom at the mall.
His mom, who Gerard found out, was also a werewolf.
“None of this stuff is weird to me, but telling you about it is,” Frank said.
Which made Gerard feel kind of special.
When Frank got up to leave, he stopped in the doorway. Nervous.
“Can I give you a hug?”
Gerard surprised himself by wanting nothing more. He opened his arms and Frank swooped in for a hug so tight and forceful it knocked the wind out of him.
“I’m sorry I scared you last night,” he said into Gerard’s shoulder. “I hope you’re okay.”
Gerard gave him a tight squeeze in return. “I’m okay, Frank. It was a lot to take in.” And then, because it was true, he added, “I wasn’t afraid of you.”
The opposite actually. It felt like Frank was protecting him.
Frank squeezed even tighter, then headed out.
He called Ray as soon as he got in his car.
“I talked to him.”
“About everything?”
“Like 85% of it.”
“I think I know what part you left out.”
Frank blew out a breath slowly. “I have two weeks until the next one. I’ll tell him.”
“It’s your choice, Frankie. You don’t have to tell him.”
The thought of explaining it to Gerard made him want to swerve into oncoming traffic.
“We’ve kissed once,” Frank said. “It feels like way oversharing. But he should know.”
“Go at your own pace,” Ray said softly. He paused, and Frank knew he was about to say something awkward. “But if you’re planning on being… intimate — ”
“Oh Jesus.”
Ray made a pained noise. “I know. I’ll shut up.”
“You sound like your dad,” Frank laughed.
Growing up, Ray’s dad had been the Alpha of the pack Frank’s family was in. If things were different, maybe Frank and Ray would still be in their old pack.
But probably not.
Frank loved the Death Spells pack. Loved being around people his own age, building their own little community, loved how they all made him feel safe and not judged.
Well most of the time.
“Tucker wants to apologize to you.”
“Tell him to stick it up his ass.”
Ray sighed. “I thought that’s what you would say.”
“He embarrassed me in front of everyone.”
“I know, it wasn’t okay. I let you put him in his place. But you guys should talk eventually.”
Frank was turning onto the busy highway and mulled it over while he merged.
“Give me a week. I’m still pissed.”
“Alright Frank. That’s fine. Hey, I’ve gotta go. I’ll check in later.”
Frank said goodbye, feeling guilty about how much of his Alpha’s time he’d taken up that week. Ray was busy, but he made extra time for Frank.
Because Frank needed it. He needed a lot of shit. He was a needy, needy guy.
Gerard needed a fucking break.
He leaned back in his desk chair, staring at the ceiling.
“I need a cigarette,” he mumbled.
When he stood up his whole spine crackled and he realized he hadn’t left his computer in hours.
He rooted around in his coat pocket for his cigarettes and shuffled through his kitchen. There was cold, burnt coffee on the hot plate but it was already edging on 8p.m.
When was the last time he ate? Or drank water?
This assignment was taking him forever. Nothing he produced felt good enough.
And, obviously, he couldn’t stop thinking about werewolves.
Werewolves! They’re in your neighbourhood. At your grocery store. Cleaning your gutters. They could be anywhere or anyone. Even your next door neighbour.
Frank assured him he was the only wolf in the building.
But Gerard couldn’t stop cataloguing every person he had ever met, wondering if he’d seen them on a full moon.
He slid the patio door open, bundled up tight, and stepped outside.
Frank was in just a tshirt, smoking on his own balcony.
They locked eyes, Gerard frozen half in his apartment. Frank smiled at him.
“Hey,” he said. “I haven’t seen you all week.”
Gerard shut the door behind him and stepped out into the cold. “Sorry about that. Just really busy at work.”
“I figured.”
Gerard lit his cigarette facing the other direction, out of the wind. “I’m done for the night,” he said. “If you want to come over?”
Frank’s face lit up. “Yeah I can come over!”
Frank shoved his smoke between his teeth, took a run at the railing and hopped it. Gerard’s mouth hung open as he landed crouched on top of Gerard’s railing.
Frank swung himself down, then pulled his cigarette out of his mouth.
“Wait, you meant now, right?”
Gerard reached out and grabbed his arm before he could jump the 10 feet back to his own balcony again.
“Dude, don’t do that! What if you fell?”
“I wouldn’t fall. And if I did I’d be fine.”
Gerard leaned over the side of the railing and looked down. “You’re telling me you could jump off a four storey building and be fine.”
“Well I’d probably break like every bone in my body, but I’d heal fast.”
“Please don’t do that.”
Frank made a dreamy face. “Awe, you care about my wellbeing. That’s sweet.”
Gerard was still holding his arm. His skin was uncomfortably hot to the touch. “Fuck you’re hot,” flew out of his mouth.
Frank laughed. “I think you’re pretty hot too,” he said, looking up from under his eyelashes.
It was a stupid line, but Gerard still felt weak in the knees. He could feel his cheeks burning. Frank took a step forward and put both of his hands on the railing, on either side of Gerard.
“Oh shit,” Gerard gasped and dropped his cigarette.
His heart was racing, a mix of nerves and excitement and adrenaline from seeing Frank jump the railing.
Frank stepped back immediately. “Sorry,” he breathed.
Gerard fumbled to grab his smoke off the floor of the balcony. His hands were shaking a little. It was just a lot, with his bad nerves, but he didn’t know how to tell Frank that. He stuck the smoke back in his mouth and hauled on it, like that would help him find the right words.
Frank was watching him with his hands behind his back, own cigarette forgotten.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
Gerard shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m jumpy.”
Frank took a step back, then another. “It’s probably better if I keep a little space,” he said.
Gerard frowned at him and Frank turned to look at something above them both. Without following his gaze, Gerard realized they were both bathed in bright moonlight.
“Oh shit, is it close?” he asked.
It looked full to him, but he guessed it wasn’t if Frank was home. “A week away,” he said. “That’s the Beaver Moon.”
“Beaver Moon?”
“That’s what it’s called when the moon is full in November,” he said.
When Gerard looked back at Frank, he was still staring at the moon, like he was in a daze. His face was so beautiful like that, like he was made from stone.
“I can feel it,” Frank said so softly. “Calling to me.”
“What’s it saying?”
Frank finally looked back at the man in front of him. He had a sheepish little smile on his face. “It’s saying, ‘Howl for me’,” he said.
And Gerard, without thinking, gave a tiny little, “Awo!”
The face Frank made, his lips going scrunched up and his cheeks round and bashful, so sweet and charmed, pushed Gerard forward.
He planted a kiss on Frank’s cheek, then pulled back just enough to see his face. Frank took a breath in through his nose and sighed happily, shoulders sagging a little. “Is this okay?” Gerard asked.
Frank nodded, leaning his forehead in against Gerard’s. They pressed their lips together, Gerard’s hands resting on Frank’s elbows. God, the skin was so hot to the touch. It was a slow kiss, a lot like it had been on the couch. Light, but just enough pressure to make Gerard’s mouth tingle. He could feel it in the back of his scalp, a little weak in his knees.
Frank left his arms at his sides, letting Gerard take the lead.
And then the wind blew and a shiver ran through him.
Gerard pulled back. “Do you want to come inside? It’s fucking cold out.”
Frank bit his lip ring, looking nervously up at the moon now. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” he said.
“We could just watch something?” Gerard said, and it sounded more like a question than a suggestion. “Maybe cuddle?”
Frank’s unsure face broke into a grin and he nodded. “Yeah, that would be nice. Just cuddling.”
“Just cuddling,” Gerard repeated.
And for some reason he stuck out his hand to shake. Frank took it and gave a firm shake, then held onto his hand and pulled him back into the apartment.
They laid on the couch together with Frank on Gerard’s chest.
Frank was like a hot water bottle. He placed a little kiss on Gerard's jaw when he settled in. His breath fanned over his skin, relaxing him.
There was a movie playing, but they both fell asleep before either of them could say what it was about.
“Can I ask you a favour?”
“Mhm?”
“Do you have any, um…. dirty laundry I could borrow?”
Gerard paused with his coffee halfway to his lips. Frank had him leveled with a serious gaze. His tone was embarrassed but his expression was almost defiant.
They’d been hanging out every night since Frank jumped onto his balcony, making each other dinner after work, sometimes having coffee together when Frank got home from his mail route in the afternoon.
“Like my Misfits shirt?” he asked.
Frank nodded. “Anything like that. Just something you maybe wore for too long. Or worked out in?”
“I don’t really go to the gym…”
“That Misfits shirt was perfect.”
Gerard took a sip of his coffee, thinking about it. “Can I ask why?”
Frank rubbed a little at his own nose. “It’s a wolf thing. It smells good.” Then when he saw Gerard’s disbelieving face he added, “To me. It smells good to me.”
Gerard looked down at his hole covered, bleach spotted, stretched out shirt from a local band he hadn’t listened to since high school. He was pretty sure he had the shirt because he lost his own at the show after barfing in a bush, but he couldn’t remember that night very well.
Gerard smelled the armpit and it was stale and oniony. He made a face but stripped it off and handed it over.
Frank took it politely and folded it. He set it in his lap but his fingers were twitching over it.
Gerard watched him for a minute, wrapping himself up in the blanket from the back of the couch.
“Smell it,” he said.
Frank’s ears went red. Gerard didn’t get why he was being shy about it.
“Um…”
“Frankie,” Gerard said firmly, “I want you to smell it.”
He watched Frank swallow hard before lifting the fabric to his face. He took a little sniff of it, but whatever instinct made him crave Gerard’s scent took hold and he buried his face in the shirt. He let out a tiny pleased noise, rubbing his cheek on it.
“You’re so cute,” Gerard said. “It’s kind of hot. The smelling thing.”
Frank made another happy sound and peaked up at Gerard. His whole face was flushed pink. “It’s so good,” he mumbled. “Thank you.”
“Do you like smelling a sweaty man in general or is it a me thing?” Gerard asked.
Gerard noticed for the first time Frank was breathing hard. “Just you,” he said. “I should go. I’m driving a bunch of people up to the moon ranch this afternoon.”
“The moon ranch.”
Frank stood up, shirt clutched to his chest. “I’ll call you when I get back?”
“I don’t think I have your number.”
“Okay I’ll come knock on your door. I really have to go.”
Gerard walked him back to his apartment, still wrapped in his blanket. Frank was jittery, seemed sweaty and distracted. All the things Gerard had attributed to drugs but he now knew were from a simple case of lycanthropy.
“Be safe?” he asked.
Frank leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. “I will, I will. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
He beamed at Gerard but there was a pained look in his eyes.
Gerard stood in the hallway for a minute after he closed the door, wondering if Frank was still standing on the other side.
Frank picked Ray up first, even though his house was the furthest.
“Hey — woah,” Ray said.
Frank let out a low whine, forehead on the steering wheel. “Dude, help me,” he huffed.
“What happened? You should have called. You shouldn’t drive like this.”
Frank was drenched in sweat, his skin crawling, his back aching. He wanted to pull his clothes off and roll around on Gerard’s dirty ratty t-shirt. Wanted Gerard to tell him what to do in that fucking tone of voice.
“Frankie, I want you to smell it,” he heard Gerard demand.
He moaned without meaning to, cheek pressed into the steering wheel of his own car.
“Aw, Frankie,” Ray said softly. “Come on, let’s get you in the back.”
When Ray helped him out of the driver’s seat, he leaned into him. Pushed his face into Ray’s hair and throat. Let the calming smell of Alpha wash over him.
“Were you with Gerard?” Ray asked.
Just hearing his name made Frank spasm. He was so hard.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I don’t want… don’t let anyone fuck me. Please.”
Ray put his hand around the back of Frank’s neck, holding him firmly.
“I don’t want to pry, but did you two — ”
Frank shook his head. “No.”
“Damn… okay.”
Frank curled up into a ball in the back seat while Ray made a few phone calls. When he came back, Frank felt like he was on fire. He grabbed for Ray, trying to pull his body down on top of him.
“Frank, put your hands under your legs and listen to me,” Ray commanded.
Frank had to obey. He squirmed there, sitting on his hands like a toddler.
“We’re going to drive up together alone, okay?” he said, voice firm but kind. “You are going to stay back here and you’re not going to touch me while I’m driving. Do whatever you have to do, but stay back here. Got it?”
Frank nodded. He felt like he was going to burst.
“The shirt…. My bag….”
Ray frowned at him but pulled Frank’s duffel bag from the back of the van. He opened it and found the shirt from Gerard on top.
“God damn,” Ray said, tossing it to Frank. “That’s… musky, dude.”
Frank’s eyes were already rolling in the back of his head.
“Gee,” he whimpered.
Ray watched him for a moment with his eyebrows raised, as Frank pushed the fabric over his face and ran his hands down his own chest.
When Frank started unbuckling his belt he slid the van door closed and banged his head against the window once.
This was going to be a long drive.
But Frank was Ray’s responsibility.
He turned up the music so he couldn’t hear Frank whine and moan and fuck himself in the backseat, but cracking the window didn’t do much to dissipate the smell.
And fuck, it was a good smell.
The whole pack craved that fucking smell. Primal, greedy, sweet and carnal. It made Ray’s cock fucking throb in his sweatpants. And the way Frank would wrap himself around you when he was in heat, like you were the only person in the world….
This is why you have to protect him.
Ray prided himself on his control. He was there to make sure Frank was safe. Make sure he was only with people he trusted and wanted when he went in heat. Make sure no one took advantage of him or hurt him.
Frank was so vulnerable when he got like this. And the first time….
Ray shuddered uncomfortably. The memory pulled frigid fingers down his spine.
They’d been, what, 19? Playing guitar in Ray’s garage at his parents house.
Frank had seemed kind of sick and affectionate all day, but the moon was waning and young werewolves could be unpredictable after a full moon.
The details were blurry but it was like one minute Frank was playing his guitar like shit and the next he was on his knees with his face pressed up against Ray’s stomach, begging him to take his pants off.
And when Ray said no he started writhing on the floor like he was in pain, pulling at his own clothes, crying and shaking and….
Ugh.
Ray felt sick just thinking about it. About throwing open the door to the kitchen and calling for help.
Watching his dad kneel on the floor while Frank basically convulsed, he’d hooked a hand around the back of Frank’s neck and settled him down with a few calm words.
After Frank went home, his dad sat down with him in his room.
“You know what that was, right?” he’d asked.
Ray nodded, kept picturing the frantic look in Frank’s eyes. How his face pushed into Ray’s stomach. How bad he’d wanted to give Frank what he was asking for.
“He’s going to need a friend like you now more than ever,” his dad said. “I need you to watch out for him.”
In the backseat of the van, Frank kept moaning the same syllable over and over again, like he couldn’t get his mouth around Gerard’s full name.
A sharp little stab of animal jealousy. The wild thought that Gerard didn’t deserve Frank. Ray did. Ray was the Alpha.
But that was all bullshit. That was the heat’s oppression. They were best friends and Ray had never been with Frank like that. That wasn’t what either of them really wanted, just wolf biology weirdness.
Ray lit a cigarette as he sped up into the snowy woods.
Frank was a grown man. He deserved to be with whoever he wanted.
“Gee, fuck,” he rasped in the backseat. “Please.”
Ray would protect that right with his life.
In the night, all alone, Frank curled up around Gerard’s t-shirt and sobbed.
Outside, a wolf howled. Alone, then in a chorus.
When the knock on his door finally came, Gerard had to settle himself down.
Don’t be clingy. Don’t be weird.
But when he swung the door open and saw Frank there, looking exhausted and gorgeous, the thought in his head all week long flew out.
“You need to give me your phone number, like, right now,” he said.
Frank gave him a sleepy smile and let Gerard take his wrist and pull him inside. Frank half-stumbled into his chest and sagged when Gerard wrapped his arms around him.
“M’sorry,” he mumbled.
“I was thinking about you the whole time you were gone,” Gerard admitted.
Frank looked up at him, bashful. “Me too.”
His voice was hoarse and he had a kind of faraway look in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” Gerard asked.
He nodded, his arms squeezing a little around Gerard’s middle. “Just sleepy.”
They ended up on the couch with Frank’s head pillowed on his thigh. Gerard brushed his hair out of his face and played with it, trying to twine it into a little braid before smoothing it out again.
There was something blissed out about Frank’s face as he played with his hair. His lips were parted, his eye lashes resting so delicately on his cheeks. It took a moment for Gerard to spot the tear running down from the corner of his eye.
“Frank, is something wrong?” he said, hands stilling in his hair.
Frank shook his head but wouldn’t open his eyes. “It’s okay,” he said. “Bad weekend.”
Gerard frowned. He noticed for the first time that Frank was in a long sleeve shirt. He let his hand rest on his chest, hoping Frank didn’t notice he was feeling if he was hurt. But Frank shuddered at the touch, his own hand resting over Gerard’s to keep it there.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Gerard asked.
Frank opened his eyes, staring up at him almost sadly. “Do you like me?” he asked.
Gerard furrowed his brow. “Yeah, I like you. I’ve told you that.”
Frank was still staring at him with that sad look. “Like, would you go on a date with me?”
“Are you asking me out? Because I would love to,” he said.
Frank smiled then, his fingers interlocking with Gerard’s, stroking his thumb along Gerard’s knuckle. He was looking down at their hands when he said, “There’s something wrong with me. It makes it hard for me to date.”
Gerard didn’t really know what to say to that. But what came out was, “Same.”
Frank’s gaze flicked back up to his face, taken aback, or like he thought Gerard was making fun of him.
“I’m a recluse dungeon master, I live in my dead grandma’s apartment, I have, like, some serious mental health stuff going on,” Gerard said. “And I put my foot in my mouth every other word.”
Frank cracked that million-watt smile and lifted his hand up to tap the tip of Gerard’s nose. “You’re so sweet,” he said.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s okay,” Gerard said.
But he frowned when Frank peeled himself out of his lap, perching across from him on the couch with his hands in his lap. He looked like he was preparing himself to give some bad news. Gerard felt almost guilty for thinking about how sweet and soft he looked in his white long sleeve, his hair all wavy and messed up.
“I told you there’s a hierarchy, right?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, so at the top is the Alpha. That’s Ray. If he tells you to do something, you do it. If he told me to take a gun and shoot myself, I would have to. Like it is a serious amount of power to hold over someone,” Frank said.
“Holy fuck.”
Frank nodded sagely. “Holy fuck for sure. I would trust Ray with my life. Then, below him, are Beta wolves. That’s everyone else. A pack is mostly Beta.”
Gerard waited patiently while he fidgeted with a hangnail. He bit his tongue to keep from prompting Frank, asking him to go on.
“Then there is one more class,” Frank said quietly.
Gerard pulled his knees up onto the couch and rested his chin on them. “You can tell me, Frank,” he said. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
Frank swallowed hard. “Omega,” he said, and the word sounded like a curse coming from him.
His face was red again, his head angled down at his own hands, where picking at his nail had drawn blood. He shoved his finger tip in his mouth, eyes flicking to Gerard’s face before lowering again.
“What’s that?” Gerard asked, hoping there was no judgement in his voice.
Frank sighed through his nose. He looked sad again. “I’m an Omega,” he said this time. “At the bottom. Most of the time I’m like everyone else, but then I have, um, episodes…”
Gerard thought of the sweating, the shaking, Ray telling him he wasn’t himself. And that night on the balcony, where he was begging… Gerard’s face felt like it was on fire. He tried to take in a calming breath and it sucked in unsteadily, drawing Frank’s attention.
Frank’s frown deepened. “It’s so humiliating,” he said. He shifted, like he was going to get up.
“No, no, Frank,” he said. Gerard reached out and put his hand on Frank’s knee, anchoring him to the couch. “I’m not judging you. Not at all. Just tell me, it’s okay.”
Frank pushed his face into the back of the couch and let out a muffled shout. When he pulled back, he wouldn’t look at Gerard.
“It usually happens after the full moon and it lasts like two days. Sometimes three. I turn into a total fucking freak. I beg anyone with a pulse to fuck me. No one knows why it happens in men, it’s not like I can, I don’t know, whatever. But it sucks, man. It’s so embarrassing.” He rubbed his face with both palms. “The whole pack takes turns… helping me. So I’m, like, ran through as fuck. I don’t know, I trust all of them, but I can’t do it anymore.”
Gerard felt his stomach flipping a little, picturing all of those people from the Brick Factory getting to touch Frank like that. It made him jealous, but he pushed it down.
“This time was really rough. I think I triggered it when I smelled your shirt. I just wanted you so bad. I was, like, aching for you,” Frank said. “I wouldn’t let anyone touch me and it fucking hurt. But we just started seeing each other and I feel like this is going to ruin everything.”
He was looking out the window when he said it, flushed all the way down his neck.
Gerard was wrapping his head around the whole thing. All he thought to say was, “You’re not ran through.”
Frank looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “I’m a lot, Gee. I have a whole side of me that is so… not me. I don’t know how anyone would ever have a relationship with me.”
Gerard frowned at him. “Because you get super horny once a month?”
“It's more than that. I have no self control. I go into heat like a dog. It’s fucked up.”
Gerard pursed his lips then said, “I mean, it doesn’t sound like you don’t have self control. If you wouldn't have sex with anyone this weekend.”
Frank stared at him. But he wasn’t leaving. Gerard couldn’t get a read on him. The space between them on the couch was starting to feel like a football field. Everything about their conversation felt delicate.
“I’m okay with you thinking about me when you’re … like that,” Gerard said. “I don’t think we need to put a lot of pressure on it. We could maybe go on a date?”
Frank surged forward and wrapped his arms around Gerard’s stomach. Gerard returned it, rubbing a circle on his back.
“Thanks man,” he said.
They ended up with Frank resting in his lap again while Gerard played with his hair. He watched him relax, little by little, until he began snoring.
Gerard put on an old movie with the volume down so low he heard when Frank yipped in his sleep.
“Isn’t this, like, a nice restaurant?”
Gerard had his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his coat, the fur hood sticking up in clumps like a monster from Where The Wild Things Are.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said.
“Are they gonna let us in? I didn’t dress up.”
When Gerard asked if he wanted to get something to eat after his nap, Frank had expected takeout.
Gerard hooked their arms together and guided him to the door of the restaurant. It was the kind of place Frank usually avoided. The gold leaf on the window. The sexy low lighting. There were only 6 tables in the whole place. The menus probably didn’t have the prices of anything beside them.
“They don’t care about that. And they have a good vegan menu,” he said.
“Dude, are you sure you don’t want to go to, like, Soy Boys instead? I don’t want to put you out.”
Frank could afford it, but he was always more into diners with bottomless coffee and places that made burritos the size of your head.
Gerard bumped their shoulders together.
“It’s a treat,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly I probably could use a vegetable.”
They stepped inside and Gerard took Frank’s coat before taking off his own. They were both wearing jeans, Gerard in a hoodie and Frank in a long sleeve shirt from the post office union brunch earlier that month.
He felt awkward for a moment, before he realized everyone in the restaurant was totally consumed with their own conversations.
Gerard looked down at his hand, then back in his eyes before linking their fingers together. He was so sweet.
Frank couldn’t look at their hands tangled for long or he would want to start crying again.
Gee was just so patient and sweet.
They were seated in the dim corner of the restaurant, far from any other tables. The waitress seemed to know Gerard already.
“I get dinner here sometimes,” he admitted.
The waitress asked Gerard, “Same as always?”
“Yes please. And a Coke Zero.”
Frank got himself a fancy imported beer, then when the waitress was gone, asked if that was okay.
“I’m all good,” Gerard said. “How are you holding up? You seem exhausted.”
“I am exhausted,” Frank admitted. “It takes a lot out of me.”
Gerard laid his hand over the back of Frank’s. His fingers were so cold.
“You’ve been so open with me,” Gerard said, and Frank felt like he was glowing. “I know it’s not easy for you to talk about this stuff.”
Frank knew he probably looked like an idiot, smiling how he was. “Thanks Gee.”
Gerard squeezed his hand then let go, pulling out his wallet. “I want to show you something.”
Frank bit at his lip ring while Gerard fished something out of a card pocket in his wallet. It was a little metal coin. He slid it over the table for Frank to look at.
“That’s my chip for eight years of sobriety,” he said.
Frank ran his finger over the Roman numerals on the front of the coin. Ray had told Frank that Gerard was sober, but he hadn’t wanted to pry.
“That’s awesome,” Frank said.
Gerard took a slow, measured breath, reaching over to trace the edge of the coin. “I want to tell you what happened with me,” he said.
“I’m all ears,” he said.
Frank’s stomach tensed, as he watched Gerard decide where to start. He didn’t seem nervous, just sad.
“So…. I broke my foot the summer after high school. Tore a ligament and everything. They prescribed me OxyContin and I took them for way too long. I didn’t know I was addicted until I ran out,” he said.
“I stopped taking them cold turkey thinking that was that and went into withdrawal. Like I thought about Oxy 24/7 and would do desperate shit to get them. And if I couldn’t get them, I’d binge drink. Then I found a doctor who would write a prescription for whatever,” he said.
The way Gerard told the story, Frank knew he’d told it 1,000 times before. It wasn’t that it was rehearsed, but it sounded matter of fact. Something that had happened, finished and been accepted as history.
“When I moved back home I was a mess. My mom thought I had mono. But Mikey knew I was fucking up and went through my shit and found my pills. That was, like, the start of the bad years. Once everyone knew I had an addiction they knew when I was good and when I couldn’t stay sober.”
Frank didn’t realize he was holding his breath. The story was making his heart hurt. He kept thinking of Gerard in his kitchen, pill bottle between his upturned palms as he stared off into nothing.
The tally marks on the little piece of paper in his medication, making sure everything was tracked.
“I’m sorry, Gee,” Frank said, voice thick.
The waitress came then, setting their food down and leaving quickly, like she could sense the serious weight over the table.
Gerard’s usual, apparently, was just salmon and veggies. He stuck a piece of asparagus in his mouth and chewed, thinking for a minute, while Frank tried out a mouthful of his own curry.
Whatever dark hallway of the past he entered, he seemed to decide to turn his back on it and step back into the present day, to the restaurant and to Frank.
He gave him a genuine smile, and dragged the coin back across the table. “It’s all in the past,” he said. “But it was three years of hell. I’m sober but in a lot of ways I’m an opioid addict for life.”
He blew out a breath and stabbed at his piece of fish. Frank put down his fork and locked their hands together.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said.
Because he was thankful. Frank had trusted him and he’d returned the favour.
“Just… if you think you’re broken because of your… episodes, you’re not,” Gerard said, then seemed to cringe at himself.
Frank watched his face for a long moment. He thought of the night Gerard watched him change, and how anxious and vulnerable he had been after.
Protect him.
“You’re not broken either.”
Gerard’s ankle hooked around his under the table.
“We should eat our food before it’s cold,” he said.
The month rushed by and Frank was on Cloud 9.
It wasn’t until their third date that Frank realized he’d never done any of this before.
Just hung out, did sweet things together, kissed and held hands, without at least a little bit of mutual orgasming. They saw each other almost once a day, spent most nights curled up on Gerard’s couch together innocently. Swapping recipes, listening to records at Frank’s while he played along on his guitar, showing each other their favourite movies.
Frank didn’t date in general, and when he took the odd person out before a hook up, he usually stuck to the standard, “Let’s grab a drink, and would you look at that, my apartment is close by…”
But Gerard was the cool date master.
He took Frank to a video game cafe for a full afternoon of snacks and Nintendo; to a very metal art installation at a back alley gallery; showed him a basement record store Frank had never even heard of that had unspeakably rare vinyls.
And Gerard was a man about town, in very specific places. Everywhere they went, someone recognized him.
It was always a friend of Mikey’s, a guy from high school choir, a girl from theatre camp, someone from a D&D meet up.
It was a grey, blustery afternoon when Gerard knocked on Frank’s door and asked if he had a couple hours for a walk.
He was tired from his early morning mail route, but it was hard to say no when Gerard looked so perfectly rumpled, wrapped in his big striped scarf.
They held hands on the mile walk to the park down the hill, then Gerard steered him to the foggy greenhouse in the heart of it. The lawn was covered in tacky blow up Christmas decorations, swaying in the wind.
“I’ve never been in here,” Frank said.
He immediately had to tug off his hat and coat, it was so humid in the building.
“I used to bring my Grandma here,” he said. “For this.”
He steered him down a wide hall hung with fat orchids, to a piano painted with ferns and succulents.
“I can’t play the piano,” Frank said.
Gerard beamed at him and plopped down on the bench. “It’s never tuned,” he said, then launched into a surprisingly loud cover of Don’t Stop Me Now.
The greenhouse was mostly empty, but an older couple drinking coffee at one of the few little tables watched Gerard intently.
His hands flew over the keys, so long and nimble, voice strong and clear and rich.
Frank found himself gripping the edge of the piano with his heart almost aching. God, what a vision.
Gerard made it to the second chorus, then faltered on the keys and began playing something that sounded more like recital music, playing more gently.
“Your voice, dude! I didn’t know you could sing like that.”
“I could be in community theatre,” he laughed. “I have a piano from my Grandma but it’s at my parent’s house.”
“You’re incredible,” Frank breathed.
He slid onto the bench and giggled when Gerard wrapped an arm around his middle and continued playing.
“What can’t you do?” Frank asked.
“What can’t I do?” he repeated. “Hmm… I can’t stop thinking about you.”
It was so cheesy but the way he said it made Frank swoon. He was so fucking gone for this nerd.
Frank turned his head to look at Gerard, who was playing slowly and softly now. It was more eerie than romantic, because the piano was so out of tune, but Gerard was looking into his eyes, mouth serious.
Frank leaned in a little and Gerard met his lips.
The piano stopped.
They kissed softly for a moment, to the sound of the older couple murmuring to themselves and the far off rush of a fountain somewhere in the greenhouse.
Frank pulled back first. His hands were on Gerard’s hips.
He rested his forehead on Gerard’s collarbone. “It’s going to start again soon,” he whispered.
Frank had been pushing it out of his mind for days, trying not to fret over what he was going to do this time.
“What’s the moon called this month?” Gerard asked, his tone light.
Frank swallowed. “The Cold Moon.”
He really did feel cold just thinking about it. If he went into heat before the shift again, he was going to spend the whole weekend alone, sobbing his throat hoarse, body and heart aching.
The Cold Moon was supposed to be like their pack Christmas party and he was going to ruin it.
“What’s your, uh, plan?” Gerard asked.
Frank chewed at the inside of his cheek, stomach upset. “I think maybe we should keep some distance before,” he said.
Gerard started to pull back, but Frank had his fingers hooked in his belt loops and kept him close. “Frank…”
“I’m okay right now,” he said. “I just don’t want it to happen early.”
Gerard’s arm was still wrapped around him and the thought of not being close anymore because of his stupid heat was too much.
“When it does happen,” Gerard said slowly, “do you want me to be there?”
His hands clenched around the belt loops and his throat was suddenly painfully dry. “I… uh… um…”
Yes, yes, yes.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Gee.”
“It’s okay,” Gerard said softly.
He began quietly picking at the keys again.
Frank’s stomach was bubbling with nerves and desperation and an aching, bone-deep loneliness.
“I’m sorry, I just… It’s a lot. And we haven’t even had sex or anything yet. I think it would be too much for you.”
Gerard pushed his cheek into Frank’s hair and rubbed it against him, still playing quietly. It sounded like the theme song to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said. “I’m going at your speed.”
That’s what was happening?
He knew he was holding back but hadn’t thought about whether Gerard was. They’d only really kissed a few times and Gerard kept things very polite.
There were a couple times Frank thought it was going to go further while they were making out on the couch, but they always just went back to cuddling.
Gerard was pretty dorky. Frank thought maybe he had a low sex drive. Or that he was a little afraid of Frank.
But he was letting Frank set the pace.
He put his hand on Gerard’s knee and watched him struggle through the Interstellar theme. There was a line between his eyebrows from concentrating.
Frank let himself really think about it for the first time. Gee seeing him without his clothes on. Touching him.
All their skin on each other.
He watched Gerard’s face as he played and when Gerard noticed him staring and smiled at him, he made up his mind.
They got back to the apartment building and Gerard offered to heat up some Shepherd’s Pie from his mom and watch another episode of what they were now calling their show.
Frank had been quiet most of the walk back and Gerard was trying to give him some space, after their conversation at the piano.
Gerard didn’t care that they weren’t having sex. He hadn’t slept with anyone in over a year anyway, and there was something very pleasant about taking it slow.
But sometimes when Frank stretched and his shirt rode up, or he gripped hard at Gerard’s hips while they watched a slasher, or came up behind Gerard and rested his forehead at the base of his neck…. Gerard just wanted to push it a little bit further.
See what Frank’s face looked like when Gerard was making him feel so fucking good.
Frank trailed behind him, shedding his boots and scarf and winter coat.
He went into the kitchen to pull out the big casserole dish and heard Frank rustling around in the living room, probably getting the show up on the TV.
He turned on the microwave and made his way to the couch.
“My mom puts peas and corn in her Shepherd’s Pie and it’s kind of fucked up, but I promise it’s good. You can just pick them — oh my God.”
Frank was stretched out on the couch in just his boxers. He had his hands behind his head, stomach taut, rising and falling unsteadily.
Gerard gawped at him, feeling his blood rush south so fast it almost made him dizzy. All that ink… He wanted to lick him. Fuck.
“Frankie,” he breathed.
Frank’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth. “Could you — Do you want to touch me?” he asked.
Gerard reached a hand out and realized it was shaking a little. “Yeah,” he said. Then stopped himself. “Wait, are you….?”
In heat felt too strange to say out loud.
Frank shook his head. “No,” he said. “I want you to touch me.”
Gerard dropped to his knees beside the couch, getting closer. His hands hovered over Frank’s stomach, watching the muscles tense in anticipation. When he looked up at Frank, his face was turned to the back of the couch, and his neck was red and splotchy.
“Hey,” Gerard said. “Don’t do that.”
Frank looked back and Gerard leaned in to kiss him, soft and gentle. And Frank relaxed, melting into the kiss as Gerard put his hands on his hips, rubbing his thumbs over the birds tattooed on his hipbones.
His skin was so warm. The little sighs Frank made as he finally, finally got to feel him gave Gerard a lump in his throat.
He liked him so much. Wanted to make him happy. Do whatever the fuck Frank asked him to.
“Your skin is so soft, Frankie,” Gerard said quietly as he pressed little kisses to Frank’s shoulder, his collarbone, over his heart.
Frank whined.
Gerard trailed his hands over Frank’s ribs, kissing down his sternum, feeling his body almost quake under his lips. He pulled back to ask if it was too much and Frank was looking down at him, his cheeks flushed, mouth open a little.
“Don’t stop,” Frank whispered.
Gerard licked his lips, fingers resting on the elastic of Frank’s briefs. “Can I…?”
Frank’s eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide in the yellow light from the table lamp. The microwave beeped, dinner forgotten.
“Yeah,” Frank said.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He dropped another kiss on the cursive ‘And’ above the band of Frank’s boxers, then slowly pulled them down.
Frank’s hands were still behind his head, the muscles going taut in his arms and throat as Gerard saw him naked for the first time.
He was half hard, cock resting against his thigh. The trail of dark hair Gerard was always sneaking glances at continued down, thick and soft and mouth watering. And the tattoos really were everywhere, trailing up to the very tops of his thighs.
Gerard realized he was just staring when Frank started to squirm.
He met his eyes again before wrapping his hand around Frank’s cock. Just holding it. Frank’s eyes fluttered shut.
Gerard finally indulged in the urge to lick Frank, dragging his tongue along the underside of his dick, feeling it stiffen as Frank let out a sigh. Gerard repeated the motion, before taking the head in his mouth, watching Frank from under his eyelashes.
Frank had his eyes closed so Gerard could watch him unashamed as he began sucking his cock slowly, patiently.
“So good,” Frank mumbled.
Gerard pulled off of him, his hand replacing his mouth and keeping up the rhythm.
“Yeah? Keep talking to me.”
He repositioned himself over Frank and took him back in, the new angle letting him go deeper now. Frank groaned.
“Feels so good,” Frank said again. “Knew you’d be good at this.”
Gerard hummed in agreement and Frank sucked in a breath, stomach tensing again. Gerard could see his fingers were digging into his own elbows behind his head.
Fighting with himself to keep from touching Gerard.
God, Gerard wanted Frank to touch him back, wanted him to let go.
He bobbed his head a little faster, hollowed out his cheeks. The sound was obscene as he slid up and down Frank’s cock, mouth watering, savouring the taste of his skin and the smell of musk.
“Gee, fuck,” Frank moaned.
His hips lifted up off the couch a little, like he wanted to rock into Gerard’s mouth. Gerard pushed him back down and pinned him there.
Frank let out a throaty moan and Gerard could feel his spine go liquid.
“You make me so fucking wet,” Frank sighed.
Gerard choked and started coughing.
What the fuck? It was so weird and hot. Gerard had heard that from girls before, but coming from Frank… It made his skin buzz. He tried to recover but had to pull off.
“Sorry,” Gerard croaked.
When he got a handle on it and looked up again, Frank had his hands covering his face. He was still hard but there was flush all down his chest now.
“Oh my God,” Frank whispered. “Why did I say that?”
Gerard hesitated for a second, waiting for oxygen to go back into his brain. For the first time, Gerard realized he was achingly hard in his jeans.
“Can I get on the couch?” Gerard asked.
Frank nodded, face still covered.
He pulled off his sweater then quickly un-did his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. Frank looked up at the sound and saw Gerard in his loose grey boxers, the outline of his hard cock so obvious it looked stupid. He could feel himself leaking pre-cum, so desperate for Frank to touch him.
Gerard took both of Frank’s hands in his as he climbed on top of him, resting his ass on Frank’s thighs. He leaned over Frank, kissing him hard and messy.
“You make me fucking wet too,” Gerard said against his lips.
Frank turned his head to the side, breathing through his mouth like he was trying his hardest not to take in Gerard’s scent.
“No, Gee,” he said, a hint of that whine in his voice. “Wait.”
Gerard sat back again. “Is this too much?”
Frank shook his head, squirming a little. It took a second, but Gerard realized he was trying to get one of his legs out from where Gerard had trapped them between his own. He hitched it up over Gerard’s hip and arousal prickled down Gerard’s spine, pooling hot in his belly.
Then Frank guided one of Gerard’s hands down over his hip, over the round flesh of his ass, to the cleft. He was soaking wet.
“Oh!” Gerard squeaked.
Frank’s eyes were as big as dinner plates. “Um, yeah.”
“Oh fuck,” Gerard said, feeling himself flush now.
He looked down, Frank’s cock going soft against his belly, his hips lifted up off the couch and legs half wrapped around Gerard. His hand was still on Frank’s ass. All Gerard would have to do is tug down his boxers, pull Frank open and he could slide right in, Frank was so wet.
Gerard groaned out loud. “That’s fucking hot.”
“You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Oh my God, no,” he said. Gerard let his hand trail a little closer, feeling it again. “You’re so wet for me.”
Frank’s hands gripped his hips in that way that drove Gerard crazy. Pulling his love handles, almost to the point of pain. He surged up and crashed their lips together, got them flipped so Gerard was on his back, feeling weak as a kitten while Frank pushed his tongue into his mouth and tugged his boxers down.
“I want you to fuck me,” Frank said against his ear. “Can I put it in?”
Gerard moaned, both of his hands now gripping Frank’s ass. “Please,” he said.
Frank wrapped his hand around Gerard’s cock and he hissed in a breath. “It’s big,” he said, almost to himself.
“You can take it,” flew out of Gerard’s mouth, but it only made Frank groan.
“You have no idea,” he mumbled.
But before Gerard could ask what the fuck that meant, Frank was lining him up and sinking down so fast on him and it was hot and tight and slick and wet.
Gerard felt tears prickle in his eyes as he bottomed out, feeling Frank’s fucking pulse through his dick. “Frankie,” he moaned brokenly. “Oh God.”
Frank was smoothing his hands through Gerard’s hair, like he was the one who was getting fucked. And Gerard realized that he was and had to dig his nails into his own palms to keep from coming.
“I’m not gonna last,” he choked out.
Frank planted one hand on Gerard’s chest, easing himself up a little, letting Gerard get used to the friction and the pressure. “That’s okay,” he said. “Just enjoy it.”
“Oh my God,” Gerard moaned. “Where the fuck did you come from?”
Frank rolled his hips, his free hand wrapping around his own cock. “New Jersey,” he said, then began fucking himself.
The way Frank bounced on it... He could hear the slick sound of his cock fucking into him, could feel the wetness spreading over his own thighs. Watched Frank’s face go slack with ecstasy, that flush still covering his chest and cheeks.
Gerard dug his fingers into Frank’s upper thighs, but didn’t try to set the pace at all. Just let Frank use him, and the thought of Frank using him to get off made his fucking toes curl.
“Frankie, that feels incredible, you’re incredible, so wet for me, oh my God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
He didn’t even realize he was speaking until Frank’s rhythm stuttered. “I’m gonna — fuuuuck,” he groaned.
Frank’s hips snapped in a way that was tight and controlled, grinding Gerard’s cock on his prostate, his hand sliding fast over his own cock. He came hard and hot onto Gerard’s chest and stomach, back arching and taking him deep. Gerard was so close, and he started fucking up into Frank.
Frank brought his hands down on Gerard’s chest, smearing his cum into Gerard’s skin. “Mine,” he growled, a thick animal sound that carried the edge of a threat in it.
His chest felt like it was burning, and his hips jerked as he came inside Frank.
Yours, yours, yours, he thought.
Frank slumped down on top of him. Both of them were panting, sticky, sweaty, jittery with the post-orgasm come down. Gerard had both arms wrapped protectively around Frank, keeping him tight to his chest. He was still inside, soft now and kind of uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to move.
Was afraid that the second he let go, Frank would run off back to his apartment, lock the door and not see him for a week. He could feel it, in the way Frank’s body started to tense. Like he was embarrassed for letting go.
“Don’t leave,” he mumbled into Frank’s hair. “Please don’t leave.”
Frank made a little anxious noise.
“We can take a shower,” Gerard said. “I can reheat the leftovers.”
“Gee…” Frank pulled back.
Gerard shook his head. “Don’t go,” he said again. “It’s okay. I’m yours, right?”
Frank whined in his throat, eyes going down to the drying cum rubbed into Gerard’s skin. “Mine,” he said again. And then, “No shower.”
Gerard swallowed thickly. Fuck. “Okay, no shower.”
When they got up, Frank was wobbly on his feet. He clung to Gerard’s side, hands tracing over his chest and stomach. Gerard got him back into his boxers, then left him on the couch with his discarded sweater.
Frank curled up with it, looking sleepy and content, while Gerard reheated dinner and got the TV going.
Frank ate slowly, eyes glazed.
“Is it happening? The, uh… heat?” Gerard asked.
Frank blinked at him, like he was confused what words meant. Then slowly he said, “No, I’m okay. That was just... I feel really good right now.”
He kept picking at his food until he finally set the plate down on the coffee table and snuggled up with the sweater.
Gerard watched him bury his face in it, rubbing at it idly with his cheek.
It made him feel like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.
Gerard tipped himself over so his head was resting on Frank’s hip. Frank beamed sleepily down at him.
“Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” Gerard asked.
He watched Frank’s Adam’s apple bob, his mouth twist nervously. “I don’t…”
“I just want to understand,” he said. “What it’s like for you.”
He rubbed his cheek against Frank’s thigh, mirroring how Frank pressed against the sweater, probably prickling the hell out of him.
Frank made a soft noise and sagged a little under his touch.
“I feel…” Frank started, voice sounding raw, “…safe. Cared for.”
Gerard hummed in agreement.
“Claimed.”
The word was like a hot coal in Gerard’s stomach. He said, “Yeah?” as nonchalantly as he could.
“Your scent is all over me and mine is all over you. If we were around the pack, everyone would know.”
“You want them to know?”
“God yes.”
“I want them to know too.”
Frank met his eyes, his pupils blown. “How would you show them?” he asked.
A heavy, heated silence fell over them.
“That you’re mine?” he asked.
Gerard had a flash in his mind, something that made his face burn and his dick stir again. A little strip of leather buried in his closet. But he couldn’t say it. It was too much, too soon.
“Make you wear my clothes,” he said instead.
That seemed like a good enough answer. Frank curled up tighter around the sweater and Gerard wedged himself behind him so he could wrap his body around him.
“Are you busy this weekend?” Frank asked.
“Not really.”
Frank turned his head and met his eyes. “Okay, good.”
Frank couldn’t believe they were actually doing this.
He was giddy. Wanted to giggle like a little kid. Gerard was squeezed in tight to his side, arm slung over Frank’s shoulders as the van became more crowded.
He had Gerard’s Fangoria longsleeve on, wrapped up in his scent.
“We’re happy to have you,” Ray said when he picked them up.
And if anyone else in the pack had a problem with Gerard being there, they weren’t saying it.
They sat in the middle row, behind Ray, who peppered Gerard with questions about his job, his family, his hobbies.
Two hours into the trip, Gerard fell asleep on Frank’s shoulder and he caught one of the guys watching Frank fuss over him, making sure he was comfortable.
“You look cute together,” he said.
“Thanks,” Frank said, feeling awkward.
But the comment made him pleased with himself. They did look good together. They looked even better together with their clothes off.
Fuck, Frank had to stop himself from going there. The other wolves would be able to tell.
It was hard not to think of Gerard laid out on his back, head thrown back in ecstasy while Frank rode his big fucking —
Danica turned around in the front seat and smirked at him. Gerard was puffing little breaths against his shoulder, looking so innocent in his sleep. Frank looked out the window.
He wasn’t in heat. This was something different. He didn’t dare tell anyone, wouldn’t speak it out loud, as if naming it would break the spell and shatter Frank entirely.
They hit a bump in the road and Gerard opened his eyes for a second, then snuggled down harder on Frank.
You’re falling in love. It’s not a big deal. Fucking relax. You’re 28, man, it was going to happen eventually.
The voice in his head sounded suspiciously more like Ray than himself, but it was probably good advice anyway.
The Moon Ranch was insane.
Frank gave Gerard the tour after they hauled their share of the groceries into the kitchen. It was essentially a million dollar home in the middle of the woods, surrounded by the Catskill Mountains. When they got there, there was smoke coming out of the chimney and the driveway had been ploughed.
“We take turns opening the cabin, driving, grocery shopping, all that stuff,” he said.
The living room had the biggest couch Gerard had ever seen, parked in front of a massive TV that was playing some sort of sports ball game.
The upstairs had five rooms, three of them with double sets of bunk beds, but Frank took Gerard to the room at the end of the hall with one of the double beds.
“When the moon is up, we’re out all night anyway, so you’ll be here alone,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”
Gerard’s stomach twisted a little at the thought of all 15 or so people he’d seen pile into the big downstairs of the home turning into wolf creatures. Frank tilted his head.
“Are you scared of us changing?” he asked softly.
Gerard was going to lie and say no, but he was starting to gather that Frank was very… sensitive to his feelings this time of the month. Like he could smell them on him.
“A little,” he said. “You’re sure it isn’t dangerous?”
Frank smoothed his hands over his shoulders, pulling the wrinkles out of his sweatshirt.
“We don’t hurt people,” he said. “We are people. Everyone will be outside in the woods anyway.”
Gerard bit his bottom lip, wishing that made him feel less nervous, but it didn’t. Not really. Frank took his hand and led him back down into the melee that was a pack of werewolves unpacking for a weekend.
Someone was making some sort of soup in the kitchen, while a huge guy with a beard slung an ungodly amount of wood in through the back door by himself, and five dudes with beers in flannel shirts yelled at the TV.
When Frank and Gerard joined them, one of them said, “Hey, this is almost done. We’re going to play football outside after. You guys in?”
Outside, in the knee-deep snow.
“I think I’ll pass,” Gerard said.
The guy opened his mouth, like he was going to argue, when Ray said, “I’m going to show Gerard the lake.”
He was at the door, in a big black winter coat with his hair pushed down by a knit beanie.
It wasn’t a question.
When Gerard looked back at the men in the living room, everyone was facing Ray, their hands behind their backs, eyes lowered.
Frank tilted his head back up and caught Gerard’s expression, a bashful little smile on his lips.
“Better get going,” Frank said. “Alpha’s orders.”
The walk to the lake wasn’t far, but Gerard was freezing.
He could see his breath, his face stinging from the cold.
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, just the crunching of their boots in the snow and gravel.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Ray finally said.
Gerard looked at him sidelong. “Okay,” he said.
“It’s going to be a weird, weird talk.”
Oh God. “Shoot.”
“How much has he told you about the heat?”
Gerard knew it was coming but still choked on the air. Ray didn’t falter, kept walking his steady pace to the lake, looking straight ahead.
“Uh, that he gets really… needy,” Gerard said. “He doesn’t want to do it with people in the pack now.”
Is this what this was about? Was Ray jealous? It really didn’t seem like it.
Ray looked over at him, his eyes warm and soft around the edges. “I’m happy for him. He’s a really sweet guy, you know? We’ve been friends since we were little.”
Gerard had seen pictures of the two of them, so little they had training wheels on their bikes.
“He was a bad kid, man. He used to get me into so much trouble,” he said.
Gerard smiled dumbly to himself, imagining Frank setting mailboxes on fire and smoking in a high school bathroom.
And pictured himself down the hall in the music room, looking like a little Pillsbury Dough Baby, singing Cabaret.
“He’s headstrong too,” Ray said. “It’s not always easy for him to ask for help.”
Gerard could see that.
They were walking down toward a white frozen lake that stretched out as far as Gerard could see.
“He wants to ask you to be there with him this time. But I don’t think he’s prepared you for it, like at all. I’m not going to lie to you. It’s intense.”
Gerard dry swallowed. “I thought you’ve never — “
“I haven’t, but I’ve watched,” he said. So matter of fact.
Gerard blew out a breath. “Okay, give it to me man. What’s it like?”
Ray stopped walking. They were on the frozen beach now. Gerard pulled the strings on his hoodie tighter, trying to protect his face from the wind.
Ray levelled him with a serious look. “Alright,” he said. “Here it goes.”
Frank had the ball for maybe half a second before he was getting body slammed down into the snow.
It pushed up under his shirt, but his skin was so hot he barely felt it.
When he got back to his feet his skin was steaming.
All the guys were in their tshirts, the coming moon making the game unnecessarily rough for a scrimmage.
“Fuck you,” he laughed, throwing a handful of snow at Dallon.
Then the ball was forgotten and an all out snowball fight broke out.
Tucker rolled a massive one and shouted, “HEY IERO,” letting Frank duck in time to miss getting beaned in the head.
The snowball kept its trajectory and exploded on Ray’s shoulder, bursting up into his face.
Everyone froze, instinct making them kowtow to the Alpha so close to the full moon, even if Ray was never interested in that kind of wolf fealty shit.
“You dick!” Ray shouted with a grin.
He grabbed a hunk of snow off one of the shovel piles and whipped it back at Tucker, starting the fight all over again.
It took Frank a minute to notice Gerard had already wandered into the house, but he figured he was just cold.
By the time they headed back inside, Frank was soaked.
Gerard was nowhere to be seen.
He headed upstairs, peeling off his shirt. When he opened the door to the last room in the hall, Gerard was laying on the bed on his phone, face seriously engrossed in whatever he was watching.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked.
The sound of Frank’s voice made him jump out of his skin. “Fuck, you scared me.”
Something was off. Frank hovered in the doorway, hair dripping down his back.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Gerard cleared his voice and sat up. “Texting Mikey. D&D stuff. You know.”
He was lying. 100%.
Frank closed the door behind him. “Are you asking him to come pick you up?”
“God no, Frank. I’m having a good time. Really.”
Frank pulled off his wet sweatpants. “What did Ray want to talk about?”
Gerard shrugged. “You know. Life stuff.”
“Life stuff.”
Frank pulled out a new pair of sweats from his duffle bag, then he hooked his thumbs in his briefs and tugged them down.
He started to give Gerard a salacious grin, but the look on Gerard’s face was fucking hungry. Eyes roaming over Frank’s body, over the little beads of water where his hair was dripping onto his chest.
“Come here,” Gerard said softly.
“We shouldn’t — ”
“Frankie, come here.”
His tone drove a hot needle up Frank’s spine. He jerked forward, falling onto his hands and knees on the bed. He crawled up Gerard's body, eyes locked on Gerard’s face. The incredulous look in his eyes, the smirk on his lips.
It was too close to the moon, to his heat, for Gerard to be talking to him like this. He was so fucking weak.
He crawled into Gerard’s lap, shivering not from the cold but from his own nakedness. Gerard wrapped his hands around the tops of Frank’s thighs, squeezing lightly.
“Gee,” he breathed.
Gerard licked his own lips, just staring. “When your heat starts, I want to help you.”
Frank’s face was burning. Oh God, what the fuck did Ray tell him?! He felt so fucking exposed, in every way possible.
“No, I can’t,” Frank started. “It’s too much…”
“Frank. I can help you. I want to help you,” he said.
The tone brokered no argument. Frank found himself lowering his head, chin almost touching his chest. Oh God, why was he submitting? Was it starting? He didn’t feel that desperation though. The overwhelming waves of lust, the aching pain deep inside of him.
But Gerard just had this air of authority. The same air when he told Frank to smell his shirt.
Gerard’s hand wrapped around his chin and pulled his face up, so they were looking at each other. “We’re in this together, right? You can trust me.”
Frank felt his eyes welling with tears, fighting the pull to keep his gaze lowered. Gerard wasn’t an Alpha, wasn’t even a wolf, so why the fuck was he having this effect on Frank?
He did trust Gerard. Maybe that was it. He trusted him and wanted him, wanted him to be there when he lost control so badly, but didn’t want to scare him away.
“I know what’s going to happen,” Gerard said softly. “Ray told me what you need. It’s okay, Frankie. I can do it.”
The tears were falling now and before Frank could wipe them away, Gerard was pulling him down, so his face was pressed into his shoulder, smoothing down his hair.
Frank was taking in big lungfuls of Gerard’s scent. A smell of safety, home, unconditional love.
“I’ve got you, okay?” Gerard said.
He nodded against his sweater, going slack. “Okay.”
They came downstairs for dinner before the sun set.
Frank had spent the afternoon curled up into Gerard’s chest, not asleep but not really saying much either.
Gerard was okay with that. He was thinking things through. Making a plan of action, for when they got home and it started.
There was a big dining table and the soup, it turned out, was for birria tacos. The second everyone sat, it was a mad dash to get food onto his own plate before everything was gone. He’d never seen people eat like that in his life, including Frank.
Frank, a known vegan, shoving a handful of shredded pork straight into his mouth.
“Jesus,” Gerard said.
He earned a smirk back and noticed Frank’s teeth were all wrong. Fangs. A lot of them were fanged out. Someone grabbed a lime off Danica’s plate and she snarled at them, the noise making Gerard tense and grab Frank’s knee under the table.
Frank soothed his thumb over Gerard’s knuckles, still shoving food into his mouth.
“Before we lose track,” Ray said from the other end of the table, “I just wanted to say some stuff.”
Everyone stopped eating, turned to look at him. It never felt normal for Gerard. He kept thinking about what Frank said, that if Ray told them to take a gun and shoot themselves, they would do it. No questions asked.
There had to be bad Alpha’s out there. The thought of meeting one made Gerard shiver. And want to grab his sketchbook.
“Okay, first thing, I hope everyone has a good Christmas this year. We’re going to do Secret Santa and turkey tomorrow before the moon,” he said. “And second, thank you for joining us, Gerard. I know all this is probably fucking weird, but it’s nice to have you.”
Everyone was looking at Gerard now, people saying their agreements that they were happy to have him.
“Thank you for inviting me,” he said, feeling his ears go hot.
“Okay, that was it,” Ray said. And the feasting continued.
The lights were on in the dining room and Gerard watched the yard outside the windows get darker and darker, starting to feel a little anxious that everyone was still inside. Around the table. With him there.
If anyone could smell the fear on him, they seemed to be politely ignoring it.
And then Dallon suddenly shot up from the table. “Fuck!” he gasped. “Here we go.”
Gerard gripped the edge of the table. He had his anxiety meds upstairs in his bag. Maybe he should have taken one.
Dallon ripped off his sweater. He was fucking ripped, the muscles in his stomach flexing and contracting. Twitching. Changing.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” Tucker said, pushing back from the table.
The two of them jostled each other, pulling their clothes off as they went to the back door in the living room.
The goth girl, Angela, threw her head back, breathing ragged. Her eyes were yellow, fangs crowding her mouth. When she lowered her head again, she was looking at Gerard.
Frank squeezed his hand.
Then she was getting up with Danica and Gerard looked away while they started stripping. Outside, he could see dark, furry shapes running headlong for the treeline.
Then everyone was getting up, tossing clothes everywhere like they were in a Swedish sauna.
Ray and Frank were the last ones in the house with him. Ray standing near the doors in a t-shirt, Frank still sat beside Gerard.
Frank’s eyes were wavering from hazel green to a soft gold, glowing in the light from the dining room.
“There are DVDs in the cabinet under the TV,” he said, voice coming out strange from the fangs in his mouth. “We’ll clean the table up in the morning. Are you going to be okay?”
A howl outside, and Frank’s head tilted back, his eyes closing, but he didn’t return the call.
“I brought my sketchbook.”
That wasn’t what he meant and he knew it.
Ray laughed a little. He looked completely normal. No yellow eyes, no fangs. So in control.
“You’ll be fine,” he said. “We’re going to stick nearby.”
“You’ve got 15 guard dogs,” Frank said, and his grin made Gerard shiver.
Those fucking teeth. He wanted to draw them. Feel them. Lick them. Frank picked up on it immediately and leaned in, so Gerard could see them better.
Gerard gripped the seat of his chair, breath caught in his throat. Then Frank turned his head to the side and feigned a little bite on Gerard’s shoulder, through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.
For Ray’s sake, Gerard bit back a moan.
“Alright,” Ray said, “get out of here, Frankie.”
Frank was on his feet, so close Gerard could feel the warmth of his skin as he stripped off his shirt. Gerard hooked his fingers in Frank’s waistband and pulled his sweats and underwear down.
“Thanks, baby,” Frank said, then planted a kiss on his forehead.
Gerard watched him pull off his socks as he sauntered to the back door in the living room, past where Ray was checking something on his phone. Then Frank stepped out into the snow, back bowing forward, skin shifting and steaming and changing, until he was something else entirely. A beast, bounding for the woods.
More howling, a chorus.
“No one is going to come in here,” Ray said. “But if you’re nervous, you can lock the doors. I have a spare key outside.”
Gerard swallowed hard, feeling a little ashamed that Ray could read him so well. “Thanks, man.”
“Take it easy,” he said, and Gerard felt that he really meant it.
Then he was pulling off his shirt and Gerard looked down at the table till he heard the door click shut.
When he looked outside, there was a massive wolf in the yard, staring into the dining room, with deep red eyes. Gerard gave the wolf a little wave. It bowed its head to him, then tipped it back, letting loose a howl that made Gerard’s ears ring, before running off into the trees.
The second he was gone, Gerard was on his feet. He went around locking all the doors, heart pounding.
Then he turned off all the lights in the house and stood in the dark, listening to the distant cries of the wolves.
But then the adrenaline went out of him.
He turned the lights back on in the kitchen and started clearing the table.
It was a lot of fucking dishes, but there was a dishwasher, and it was only 5p.m. anyway. It took him a good two hours to get everything clean, then he sat up in the living room with his sketchbook, drawing Frank’s fangs while watching The Princess Bride.
Every once in a while he would hear a howl, but it stopped making his skin crawl, and started making him think of seeing Frank get pummelled into the snow earlier that afternoon.
They were just playing.
When his eyes started to feel heavy, he packed up his pencil case and turned off the lights downstairs, making sure to unlock the door before going up to bed.
“Where has this fucking guy been?” asked one of the wolves.
Gerard felt bad for not knowing half of their names, but when they were all together, there was a lot of yelling and confusion and he couldn’t get a handle on anyone.
Doing the dishes, Gerard realized, had gained him a sort of celebrity status with the wolves. Frank had told him as much when he woke Gerard up at the ass-crack of dawn, naked and soaking wet and absolutely filthy, covered in healing scratches and bouncing with a sort of manic energy that made Gerard want to lay on top of him and kiss him all over.
“Everyone is so fucking stoked, man, we can just make breakfast right away. I’m so hungry I could eat my own legs. Are you gonna shower with me?”
Gerard did not want to shower with him. He didn’t want to wake up at all. It was 6 in the morning. But Frank peeled him out of the nice warm bed and Gerard stood shivering outside of the spray while Frank made him wash the mud off his back.
When they got out of the shower, there was a line of naked, filthy werewolves, so unashamed to have all their fucking bits out, Gerard felt like a prude for being in a towel.
Then they were in the kitchen, where Tucker was making about 10,000 eggs, while Gerard was lauded as some sort of Dish Washing King.
Another big table meal where most people were eating with their hands, while Gerard and Ray looked posh with their forks and knives.
When the meal was finished, there was a round of applause for Gerard doing the dishes all by himself the night before, and then the table was cleared and a bunch of the pack stretched out on the floor in the living room, all over the furniture, and everyone began dropping off into sleep.
Frank dragged Gerard back upstairs, stripped them both down into their underwear, pushed Gerard under the covers, and then tucked himself up tight to him and fell asleep immediately.
The next time he woke up, Frank was grinding himself back against Gerard’s half-hard dick. Gerard wrapped a hand around Frank’s hip, pulling him back and grinding hard against him. Frank whimpered, his skin so warm it was making Gerard sweat.
“You’re good?” Gerard asked.
“Uh-huh,” Frank sighed, his hips rocking back in a smooth, hypnotizing rhythm. “I’m so good.”
Gerard stopped, holding Frank tight against him, but pushing himself up so he could see Frank’s face. “You know what I mean,” he said.
Frank grinned up at him. “I’m not in heat,” he said. “Trust me, you’ll know.”
Gerard took a steadying breath through his nose.
Frank started rocking his hips again, feeling Gerard’s hard cock against his ass.
“Put it in,” he whispered.
Gerard dropped his forehead down onto Frank’s shoulder. “Should we be doing that here?” he asked. “Aren’t they going to hear?”
Frank laughed. “They’ve all heard me, Gee,” he said. “And watched me, and felt me… Fucked me…”
Gerard’s fingers tightened on his hip. He wanted to tell Frank to stop reminding him that most of the pack had fucked him, but didn’t want Frank to feel ashamed. It wasn’t that. It was just that he felt… a little possessive.
But that’s what Frank was going for here, wasn’t it?
“You want them to hear,” Gerard said, crowding into his ear.
“Maybe.”
He slid his hand from Frank’s waist, up his chest, over one of his hard nipples. Up and up until he rested his hand against his throat. Not putting any pressure, just holding him there.
Frank moaned and titled his head back.
Gerard put on a little more pressure, chuckling when Frank went completely boneless in his arms.
Then he let go of his throat and tugged his underwear down.
“Let me guess,” he said softly, up against the shell of Frank’s ear. “You’re already wet for me.”
Frank whined and nodded.
He guided the head of his dick over Frank’s soft ass cheek, to where he was so slick already, just letting his cock rest there while Frank made little noises into the pillow, pushing himself back.
“C’mon,” he whined.
Gerard shook his head, even though Frank couldn’t see. “Ask nicely,” he said with a smirk.
“Fuck,” Frank groaned. “Can you fuck me please?”
Gerard held the base of his dick, dragging it slowly over the slickness, putting just a little pressure where Frank wanted it. “That’s better, but not quite it.”
Frank sucked in a breath, trying to push himself back onto Gerard’s cock. Gerard grabbed his hip again and held him still.
“Gee, please put it in, please?” he asked sweetly.
Gerard hooked his chin over Frank’s shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Good boy,” he said.
He felt Frank’s whole body shudder and a loud, debauched moan pulled from his chest. Gerard pushed in.
“Thank you, oh God, thank you,” Frank sighed. “So fucking big, Gee.”
He bottomed out, feeling all of Frank pressed up against the front of his body, never wanting to move again.
“You’re tight, sugar,” he mumbled into Frank’s hair, setting off another shudder.
Gerard pulled back, thrusting into Frank a couple times, before deciding it was too difficult to get leverage on their sides like this.
He got Frank up onto his hands and knees, and the way Frank moaned and sighed as they moved together made Gerard feel like he was on fire.
“So fucking sexy,” he said, as he brought Frank’s hips back tight against him.
The curve of Frank’s spine, the tattoos covering his back. So many Gerard would need days to catalogue them all.
He snapped his hips forward just to watch Frank take it, watch how he pushed himself back for more.
“Come on, fuck me,” Frank gasped.
See the slickness around his asshole, how he took Gerard’s cock so easily but wrapped around it so tight.
Gerard hesitated for a second, feeling unsure of what he was about to do, but Frank was asking him to fuck him, so he was gonna fuck him.
Gerard brought his hand down on the back of Frank’s neck and pushed his face into the pillow, then started drilling into him, hard.
Frank screamed.
Oh fuck.
His ankles wrapped around Gerard’s, pulling him closer. His hands were gripping the sheets, back arching, asking for more.
Gerard held him down like they were hatefucking, but it was the furthest thing from it. He just wanted Frank to feel him, to feel taken by him. Dominated. Claimed.
Frank was shaking, shouting nonsense into the pillow. Gerard was relentless, the hand pushing his head down not gentle in the slightest.
Then, when Gerard felt himself getting close, he let go. Wrapped his arms around Frank’s chest and pulled him up so his back was flush with Gerard’s chest.
Frank was panting and drooling on himself, slick all down both of their thighs. Gerard wrapped one hand around his throat and one around his cock.
“Gee,” Frank gasped. “Oh God, Gee.”
“Who do you belong to?” he said, voice coming out low and broken.
“You,” Frank sighed. “I’m yours.”
Gerard was stroking him off fast, but his own thrusts were getting erratic as his orgasm started to build. “Fuck yeah you are,” he hissed. “Come for me.”
And Frank lost it, just like that, shooting into Gerard’s hand and whimpering his name. Gerard wasn’t far behind, dropping Frank back onto the bed and slamming into him, rubbing his dirty hand on Frank’s back, smearing his own cum over him in a way that Gerard found deliciously disgusting.
“So good for me, Frankie,” he choked, before pulling out and finishing on his back.
Frank was face down on the bed, still writhing a little, and when Gerard shot his load on his skin he moaned, “Oh fuck yeah.”
Gerard dropped down onto the bed beside him, covered in sweat, one of his hands idly rubbing his cum into Frank’s back. Mixing their scents together.
“You like that?” he murmured.
Frank crawled half onto his chest and started kissing him hard and slow, eyes glazed and dazed. “Thank you, thank you,” he kept whispering.
They lay there in silence for a long time, Frank giving Gerard little sniffs and pleased noises. Eventually he said, “I really liked that.”
Gerard laughed. “Yeah?”
Frank cleared his throat. “I liked the part where you held me down,” he said.
Gerard hummed in agreement. “I noticed.”
Another silence, Frank obviously gathering his words.
“When I’m in heat,” he said slowly, “you can do more than that.”
“More than that?”
He nodded, maybe blushing a little, but it was hard to tell because his face was red from getting fucked. Gerard hid a little self-satisfied smirk at the thought.
Frank was biting his bottom lip, eyes intense on Gerard’s face. “Like, controlling stuff. Telling me what to do. Kinky BDSM type shit is okay too. I have some pretty wild gear in my apartment, if you want me to show you.”
Gerard’s mouth was suddenly dry. “Yeah, I want to see,” he said. Frank buried his face in Gerard’s shoulder. Another silence, this time Gerard thinking how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I’m… into that stuff,” he said.
Frank’s soft little, “Yeah?” was muffled by Gerard’s shoulder.
So Gerard pulled back, so that they were looking at each other again. “Yeah,” he said.
He watched Frank swallow, his eyes going far-away for a moment. “How into it are you?”
Gerard rolled onto his side. “I told you I’m a Dungeon Master,” Gerard said, half-teasing. “I’ve been a master in a few kinds of dungeons.”
Frank didn’t laugh. “Like you’ve…”
Gerard nodded, feeling a little self conscious. “I’ve dominated my partners before,” he said. “I’ve got some pretty wild gear in my apartment too.”
“Oh my God.”
Gerard settled his hand back on Frank’s throat, delighted in how easily Frank accepted it. How eager he was to tip his head back at the touch.
“I can take care of you,” he said gently as his hand tightened around Frank’s throat. “And I’ve heard you’re a very, very good boy.”
Frank nodded eagerly. “I want to be good for you,” he whispered.
“You’re the sweetest,” Gerard said.
There was a knock on the door then.
“We’re doing secret Santa,” Danica said through the door. “If you guys are done fucking.”
Gerard’s face burned but Frank cackled.
Gerard wasn’t part of the Secret Santa, but Ray gave him a gift card for a nice café back home and everyone got a new pair of socks from Dallon.
Christmas wasn’t for another two weeks, and he hadn’t even thought about what to get Frank.
Watching Frank open a new distortion pedal for his guitars and freak out told Gerard he should start planning something special.
But something was shifting. Gerard could feel it.
Frank started out sitting between Gerard’s legs, arm wrapped under his knee to hold him tight to his side, but as the afternoon wore on and another sport went up on the TV, Frank ended up sitting in his lap.
No one really seemed to care that Frank was stuck to him, trailing kisses over his face every few minutes, running his hands up Gerard’s sides, and rubbing his face all over his chest before going back to watching the game, shooting the shit like it was nothing.
Gerard imagined what it would be like if Mikey was there. He’d probably watch in horror before asking them to get a room.
Gerard felt a little bit awkward about it. He pulled Frank’s hands off him a couple times, put them back in his own lap.
Finally Frank nestled his head down in the crook of Gerard’s neck. He was a dead weight, making Gerard’s legs fall asleep, breathing him in deeply. And he was hot as fuck to the touch, making sweat bead at the nape of Gerard’s neck.
After an endless stretch of being trapped under Frank, Gerard noticed Ray was watching from the doorway.
The living room had emptied out. Some of the pack were starting on dinner. Most were outside, playing another game of football or walking down to the lake.
Dallon and Danica were on the other end of the couch, snuggled up and watching TV.
“Hey Frankie,” Ray said softly. “How are you feeling?”
Frank didn’t even pull his head up. Gerard felt him shiver and grip on tighter.
“S’good,” he mumbled.
His lips were on Gerard’s neck again. Mouthing at it, like he was tasting his skin.
Gerard raised his eyebrows at Ray, as if to ask, “Is this it?”
Ray frowned slightly. “Frank, look at me.”
Frank pulled himself back and before he turned his head to look at Ray, Gerard saw his eyes. The pupils were so blown, eating up most of the Hazel. Glazed and faraway. Oh God.
“He’s gone,” Dallon said.
Frank didn’t even respond.
“Uh oh,” Gerard whispered.
Danica was sitting up now. “Frankie, honey, how about we give you a Gatorade?”
He nodded, hands gripping onto Gerard’s forearms. His palms were so clammy.
For a second Gerard felt frozen. Something about Frank being so out of it made his stomach feel sick. Thought of himself a decade ago falling down the stairs to his basement room drunk and ending up spending the night in the ER.
Oh God, how was he going to do this?
But then he thought of Frank staying with him when he had his panic attack, making sure he got into bed safe, staying the night with him.
He took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around Frank’s middle, holding him close. Frank whimpered, melting against him.
Danica came back in the room with a Gatorade and held it for Frank while he drank.
“Gee… I can’t,” he mumbled. “Gonna freak you out.”
Gerard was a little freaked out. But he said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Back at the lake, the day before, Ray told Gerard he thought this would happen. That Frank was sliding into the heat early. “It might be better if it happens here,” he said. “We can help you.”
“I don’t like talking about Frank when he’s not here,” Gerard said honestly.
Ray gave him an appraising look. “Good. That’s a good way to be,” he said. “But it’s coming and I don’t want Frank to freak out about it, okay? We’ve been taking care of him for a long time, and he doesn’t always know the signs when it’s starting. But it’s starting. You have to ease him into it.”
“How do you do that?”
“Act like everything is normal. Reassure him. Tell him you’re there for him, that you’re going to take care of him. It’s what he needs to hear.”
Frank was hot to the touch in his lap, hands running up and down Gerard’s arms.
“It’s okay, Frankie, I’ve got you.”
“M’sorry,” he slurred.
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
“I’m going to bring you upstairs, okay?” Ray said.
Frank held on tighter to Gerard, but Gerard didn’t think he could lift him. Frank was short but fucking solid.
And Gerard’s legs were asleep. He also just wasn’t that strong.
“I’m coming too,” Gerard said.
He followed close behind as Ray carried Frank up to the room at the end of the hall. Danica came up behind them with water and Gatorade.
Frank rolled face down into the bed, pressing his cheek into sheets that smelled like sex even to Gerard.
“Oh fuck Gee,” he whimpered, rubbing his body on them. “Smell so fucking good.”
Gerard felt embarrassed, hearing Frank moan his name like that with Ray and Danica still in the room, but they were both unphased.
“Did you bring your other bag?” Danica asked Frank softly.
He nodded, hair getting all messed up against the mattress. “Under the bed.”
She fished out a little black bag Gerard hadn’t noticed and handed it to him. “Everything you need is in there,” she said. “Please, call us if you need help.”
“But after sunset you’re on your own,” Ray said seriously. “We’ll bring your dinner but he probably won’t eat.”
Frank was rubbing his hands all over his chest, mouth forming words with no sound.
Ray gave Frank one more concerned glance and they both backed out of the door. “Seriously. Call us if you need help,” he said.
Then shut the door.
They were alone, Frank’s rustling and little noises in his throat making Gerard’s nerves rattle. He took a deep breath and turned to face him.
Frank’s face was mashed into the mattress again, hands buried in his own hair. His shirt had rucked up under his chin and Gerard watched him catch it in his teeth and tear at it. Like he didn’t know how to use his hands to take it off.
He was so in his own world, sweat sticking his shirt and his hair to him.
Gerard steadied himself. He signed up for this. Told Frank to trust him. Had been granted the privilege to be here.
He opened the bag. Fuck.
The bag had plastic gloves, a gag, hand restraints, and a couple toys of different sizes. The one at the bottom made Gerard feel dizzy just looking at it.
But Gerard wasn’t an amateur at this.
Gerard had only a handful of long term partners in his past, and two of them he’d met through the BDSM scene.
He’d gone through a pretty heavy ordeal in his twenties and had needed a way to get back in control.
And Gerard loved being in control.
“Frank,” he said.
Frank gasped, turning his head toward him. “I need you,” he whimpered.
Gerard kneeled on the bed and helped him turn over onto his back. He’d ripped his shirt with his teeth.
They needed to ease into this. Frank was so vulnerable, so out of it. It sent red flashing alarms to Gerard’s brain that said “HE’S NOT OKAY, DO NOT TOUCH.”
He had to push past it.
Gerard got him to sit up, and Frank clung to him, rubbing his face and body up against him. Gerard let him for a minute, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
He kissed Frank’s hair, feeling the way each breath wracked through Frank’s body, slow and heavy.
“It’s okay, Frankie, I’ve got you,” Gerard said. “Sweet little angel.”
Frank was practically purring for him.
Gerard pressed their lips together but Frank was having trouble kissing him back. He could tell Frank wanted to, kept trying to fit their mouths together, but then he would start rubbing their lips together, cheek to cheek, moaning softly.
Gerard dragged Frank’s pants down his legs and thanked God he had been able to convince Frank to shower after they fucked that morning.
He was so clean and smelled like his fancy body soap. Sandalwood and Bergamont. His cock was hard and straining against his boxers. When Gerard brushed against it, he made that pained noise again.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
Frank nodded, hair sticking up wildly. “Hurts so bad, Gee,” he groaned. “Aches.”
Gerard hummed sympathetically. He leaned in and kissed the skin between Frank’s cock and the sharp jut of his hip as he skimmed his underwear down. Frank arched into him, raising his hips off the bed.
Gerard pushed him back down into the mattress and held him there firmly while he squirmed.
“Stop wriggling,” Gerard said.
Frank made a little pouty noise and stilled, breathing so loud in the suddenly quiet room.
“Thank you for listening,” Gerard said.
He soothed his hands down Frank’s thighs, rubbing out the tension in his muscles. Frank’s eyes were barely open, face pinched in pain.
Part of Gerard, the part that was a normal guy that hated seeing his partner uncomfortable, wanted to back off.
“It’s worse when he rides it out alone,” Ray had said at the lake. “Last time… I’ve never seen him cry like that.”
And Gerard thought of Frank the day he’d gotten back from his last heat, clinging to his legs and crying silently. How exhausted he’d been.
Frank let out another sour noise of discomfort.
“Shhh, I’ll make it better,” Gerard cooed softly. “Roll over, angel.”
Frank needed a little help getting on his stomach, but shifted easily when Gerard put a couple pillows under his hips.
He sighed when Gerard finally put his hands on his ass, massaging a little before spreading him open.
“Fuck, look at you,” Gerard breathed.
Frank made a pleased noise, pushing back into his hands. “I need you so bad. I want to feel you inside me. Gee, please fuck me,” he babbled, rocking back into Gerard futilely.
Gerard held his hips tight and laid a kiss on one of Frank’s cheeks before licking a strip over his asshole.
Frank let out a voice-cracking yip and his knees buckled. He dropped further down onto the pillows as Gerard pressed his face deeper. Tasting the slick, his skin, pressing his tongue into Frank as he spread him open with his hands. He took his time, feeling him out, fucking into him with his tongue.
Frank was a squirming, keening mess. His words weren’t making any sense, hands gripping at his own hair as Gerard devoured him. Moaning at the taste of him, at the way he rocked back on his face. Delicious.
When Gerard finally pulled back, the bottom half of his face was soaking wet. He squeezed Frank’s ass in both his hands then slapped it.
Frank sobbed into the mattress.
“You taste so fucking good,” Gerard growled.
“Oh my God.”
“You taste sweet like sugar.”
“Gee,” Frank moaned. “No one… no one…”
“No one’s eaten you out?” Gerard asked.
Frank nodded. “Oh God.”
“That’s a goddamned shame.”
Gerard licked him again, sucking on the soft, tender skin of his hole while his hand found Frank’s cock and jerked him to the rhythm of his tongue.
Frank rocked back against his face, desperate little moans getting swallowed up by the mattress.
“Your tongue, oh my God,” he groaned.
Gerard leaned back again, this time to spit on Frank’s ass, even though it was so wet it was getting hard to hold him open.
Mostly he had too much spit in his mouth and thought Frank would like it.
Frank cried out, and Gerard rubbed his ass, pushing his spit inside with his finger tips.
“Fuck, finger me,” Frank cried.
But Gerard wasn’t done tasting him yet. He pushed two fingers in easily, then a third, and fucked him like that while he ate around them, ignoring his aching jaw.
Frank’s words were slurred.
He crooked his fingers against Frank’s prostate and ground down until Frank’s voice cracked. Gerard rested his face against Frank’s ass cheek, catching his breath. He let Frank fuck himself back onto his hand, watching his ass take them so easily, and then fuck forward into his fist while he sobbed in pleasure.
“You’re gonna be a good boy and come for me?” Gerard asked. His voice was so rough.
Frank gasped, “Yes sir.”
The word made Gerard’s already aching cock fucking throb. He’d been ignoring himself, focusing on getting Frank off.
“What was that?” Gerard asked.
“I want to come for you sir,” Frank moaned.
Gerard straightened up, pressed his own erection against the back of Frank’s thigh, feeling his rhythm falter.
Then Gerard bent back down and bit his ass cheek, hard enough to leave a mark, and Frank was coming.
And coming.
And coming.
Holy fuck.
Gerard’s hands were cramping and the pillow beneath Frank was absolutely bukakked by the time he went slack. Gerard caught him before he fell into his own mess and rolled him onto his side.
Frank was snoring.
Knocked out.
“I have never seen him fall asleep like that during a heat,” Ray said.
He had a plate of turkey dinner covered in tin foil for Gerard.
“He’s been out for like an hour,” Gerard said.
“It’s probably better that way. Make sure he drinks something when he gets up.”
“Of course.”
Frank pressed his face into the pillow, each breath coming out a pained moan. He was burning, aching, body was shaking from it.
Where was he? It smelled like Gee. He opened his eyes but it was dark. Alone.
“No, no,” he whimpered. “Please no.”
And then a hand on his naked side, soothing him. “Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m still here.”
Frank wriggled forward until he was wrapped around him, clinging tight, trying to pull Gerard down on top of him.
“Hey, wait a second. I need you to sit up,” Gerard said.
He kept a hand splayed out on Frank’s chest as he turned on the bedside lamp.
It hurt Frank’s eyes and he hid his face in Gerard’s shirt.
“Come on, Frankie, I just want you to drink some water.”
He could do that.
The aching wasn’t so bad with Gerard here. Just his presence calmed him. The feeling of his soft skin, under his shirt. Frank was caressing his back, pressing his face hard into his hip. Mouthing at the little strip of love handle. Whimpering.
“Okay, get up now,” he said gently.
Then his hands were under Frank’s armpits, forcing him to sit up.
He leaned against him as Gerard put a straw in his mouth and made him drink. He realized how thirsty he was once he started and then chugged.
“How are you feeling?” Gerard asked.
He couldn’t even describe it.
An animal ache, desperation, rocked by waves of lust that made his cock and his prostate throb. And sickness, flop sweat, chills and delirium.
But there was something else this time. Something new.
A sense of… satisfaction. He craved something so deeply that he could finally have.
And he was whimpering again, wrapping himself around Gerard, grinding on his thigh and pushing him down onto the mattress.
“Mine,” he rasped against his skin.
“Yeah,” Gerard sighed.
He grabbed Frank by the back of the neck and pushed his head into the crux of his throat.
The scent of him, of his pulse and hair and their skin pressed together, made Frank’s eyes roll back in his head.
“Say it,” Frank ground out.
Gerard sucked in a breath. “I’m yours,” he whispered.
“Again.”
“All yours.”
A deep growl pulled from his chest. He tilted his head up then, looking to the window that was partially covered by the curtains. Felt the pull of something deeper than the heat.
Gerard jerked away from him.
Frank crawled forward, and the light of the full moon fell on his face.
It set his fucking skin on fire.
“Frank, oh my God.”
He looked back at him and Gerard’s eyes were bugging out of his head. Frank felt his teeth with his tongue and it caught on fangs.
“Don't… be… scared,” he choked out, voice thick and gravelly.
“I’m not,” Gerard said, but Frank could smell it. Hear his heart pound.
It confused the wolf, his mate being afraid of him when Frank wanted only to submit.
So he rolled onto his back and tilted his head to the side, whining from deep in his chest. He felt so heavy, falling into the wolf. He tried to signal to Gerard he was losing his words but all that came out was a garbled, desperate animal noise.
Gerard’s hand skimmed up his side, wrapped around his neck. “Well I am a little scared,” he said, body pressing up Frank’s. Frank purred at the feeling of his stiff cock. “Being scared kind of gets me off.”
He hitched his leg over Frank’s hips, giving him something to grind on. Devolving Frank to a writhing, grunting mess. All nerve. Pulse pounding all over his skin. Rutting and sweating.
“Show me,” Gerard demanded. “Open your mouth.”
Frank’s mouth fell open, lips peeling back from his teeth.
“Fuck,” Gerard hissed.
And then he slid three fingers in between them. Frank closed his teeth delicately around the digits and licked the fingertips, delighting in the flavour of his skin.
“Wait, I have an idea,” Gerard said cheerily. “Open up.”
Frank opened immediately.
He felt Gerard crawl up the bed, beside his head, and opened his eyes in time to see him pull his cock out of his boxers.
Drool pooled in his mouth. He was making an inhuman, wet and desperate noise but he could taste the lust coming off Gerard.
Then he was guiding Frank’s mouth open and putting his cock between his fangs.
Frank’s hips twitched and he felt the slick gush between his thighs. Ohhhhh fuck.
“That’s my good boy,” Gerard said through his teeth.
Frank caught all the precum with his tongue, throat gurgling with drool. Gerard guided him onto his side and the drool pooled in his cheek and spilled onto the bed and Gerard’s thigh.
“I don’t know if you’re a wolf, angel,” he said in a way that felt both mocking and sweet. “You seem more like a puppy to me.”
He pushed his shin against Frank’s cock and he wanted so bad to rut like a dog. But Gerard’s cock was still in his mouth, between the fangs Frank had used to disembowel deer thousands of times.
Through the heat, like a howl from a mile off, his true self — regular, mailman, tax paying Frank — screamed at him to forget his base animal need and focus on not hurting Gerard.
Frank kept perfectly still.
Gerard made a pleased noise. “Good, good puppy,” he purred. And moved his shin slow, agonizing, till Frank whined so high it turned into a howl.
Gerard’s cock was fucking leaking on his tongue. He was getting off on this.
He eased Frank’s mouth open and dragged the head against his fangs as he pulled back.
“Fuck that’s hot, puppy. You’re so good for me.”
The shin pressed in hard again, thin and sharp but so fucking perfect to rut against.
“Make yourself come,” Gerard demanded.
Frank pushed his face into the softness of his belly, Gerard’s cock pressed tight against his cheek and leaking. Frank humped at his leg hard, moaning and whining until he threw his head back and came against his calf.
Gerard laughed at him, pushing back his hair.
“Good boy.”
The orgasm wasn’t enough. It was a fan to the flame. Frank’s whole body was shaking, slick down to his knees. He rolled onto his stomach, pushing his ass in the air.
Still beyond words, still moaning around his fangs. Mouth watering from the thick taste of Gerard’s precum.
Then Gerard was behind him, pulling his head back by his hair and pressing his knee between Frank’s legs, letting him grind his ass back on him. He could feel the wetness spreading all over his thigh and sobbed.
Gerard was pushing his fingers back into Frank’s mouth and Frank licked them, shuddering when he tasted his own come.
Frank was trying to beg Gerard to fuck him. Put something in. Anything. But he had fingers in his mouth and his throat would only growl.
“Puppy trying to speak?” Gerard asked in that saccharine voice. He pulled his fingers out. “Don’t worry, Frankie, I speak dog. You can bark for me.”
No questions asked, Frank started barking. Loud, deep barks. He was falling deeper. Into a place beneath the heat. Where he could barely feel human Frank. Where he could surrender completely.
“Good, good puppy,” Gerard said.
Frank heard a snapping noise. The plastic gloves.
“I think my puppy wants to get filled up,” he said sweetly. “Is that right?”
Frank barked more, rubbing his ass back on Gerard’s soaked and slick thigh.
“Now this is going to be a learning experience, puppy, because I heard you can take a lot.”
Frank whined. Fill me. Fill me.
Then Gerard was pushing in with his hand, starting out with three fingers. Frank took them easily and ground back on them, trying to take more.
Gerard was fucking him relentlessly from the jump, but it wasn’t enough. He pushed in another finger, crooking them against Frank’s prostate.
Frank yipped.
“You’re fucking incredible,” Gerard murmured.
The praise made Frank want to cry. It felt so good. Not pathetic and patronizing like when the pack did it for him. Gee meant it. He knew he meant it.
He pushed in further, letting Frank grind on his hand, and Frank rocked back hard. Gerard bit down on his shoulder as he met Frank’s hips. And just like that, it was in.
The whole thing.
Gerard stilled, his breath coming faster now. “Holy fucking Christ,” he whispered. The sweet but authoritative tone was gone. “I’m literally fisting you.”
Frank rocked his hips back, fucking himself on Gerard’s hand. The stretch was so fucking good he had tears in his eyes. Every drag made him feel so full. Taken.
All Gerard had to do was flex his fingers, like he was going to curl them into an actual fist, and Frank was gone.
He clenched around the hand inside him and his body lost control. Blinding pleasure washed over him, whiting everything out. Knot me. Take me. Bite me. Tear me apart.
Gerard was whispering something sweet to him as he dropped off again into sleep, still so full inside.
Frank was out cold again and Gerard had to do his best to clean up the sheets around him.
When he snapped the current set off, he found someone had put on three fitted sheets. On top of each other.
Genius.
Then he went quickly to the bathroom and got a towel wet in the sink.
Frank grumbled while he wiped him down, but didn’t wake up. He gently cleaned the slick from his lower half. For taking a fist up his ass, Frank looked fine.
Holy fucking shit.
Gerard had been watching videos on how to do it, ever since the talk with Ray.
Since Ray finally explained what the knot was.
“It’s literally like this,” he’d said, his big hand in a tight fist. “But it’s on your dick. And it gets stuck in him.”
“Fuck. I can’t do that.”
“You can simulate it,” he said. “And there are, um, toys.”
“Okay.”
“That’s kind of the issue a lot of the guys have,” Ray said, looking away awkwardly. “With you being with Frank. When he gets like that, the knot is the only thing that settles him down. Sometimes it puts him to sleep.”
Gerard smirked, just oozing self satisfaction.
The only thing that settles him down, huh? He looked at Frank’s content, sleeping face.
How he’d left his hand inside him for a few minutes while Frank ground back on it in his sleep, until he’d felt him go completely slack and start snoring softly again.
Gerard really didn’t think he was, like, the master of werewolf sex.
His theory was that it was just easier when Frank actually wanted the person fucking him.
Gerard thought of all the times since they’d met that Frank had crawled onto his couch after a long day on his feet and fallen asleep with his head pillowed on Gerard’s legs.
How Frank told him Gerard made him feel safe.
He kissed Frank’s forehead as he tucked the blanket over him.
He was sure Frank loved the smell of sex in the room but Gerard was only human and got the window cracked open.
Then finally, finally, he crawled under the comforters and got into bed with Frank.
It felt almost normal.
But for Frank clinging to him immediately and rubbing on him like a cat.
He didn’t seem to be trying to get off again. Just smelling him, still sleeping.
Eventually he settled back down again. Gerard looked at his phone. It was almost three in the morning.
He was exhausted.
And he hadn’t even come.
That wasn’t what this was about. Yeah, it was hot. Extremely fucking hot. Just the image of his cock held delicately between those fucking fangs. He’d wanted to take a picture, but wouldn’t do that to Frank.
But he didn’t want to come. Not when he didn’t know how long this would go on. He had to go the distance. Had to be on his game for Frank.
He drifted off into sleep, prepared for anything.
In his dream, it was D&D night.
He was in his mage outfit, apartment lit by his usual candle configuration. The game went on like it always did.
But Frankie sat at his feet naked, eyes that glowing yellow, fangs dripping, growling deep in his chest.
And Gerard had him on a leash.
Pushed his head gently against his knee and pet him.
“Shhh, baby. I’m busy.”
“Gee, please…”
“In a minute,” he slurred.
“I need you. Please.”
It took him a minute to realize this wasn’t the dream anymore.
He was sweltering hot. Covered in Frank’s sweat, as Frank lay on top of him, rubbing his body against him again.
When Gerard got his eyes open, he groaned and tipped his head back.
Frank was half sitting up, naked and slick with sweat, cheeks and chest flushed red and cock so hard it was pressed up against his stomach.
“You’re a fucking vision,” Gerard grumbled, voice sleep thick.
Frank let out a breathy moan as Gerard pressed a hand against Frank’s cock.
“Put it in me,” he gasped. “Finish in my ass.”
Gerard’s responding groan trailed off into a whimper as Frank’s ass ground down on his morning wood.
“Gonna ride me?” Gerard asked.
He was going for authoritative but it came out too breathy. It was still dark, but Frank didn’t look like he was wolfing out anymore. At least he could talk again. Gerard didn’t like him not being able to speak.
Frank slumped against his chest and pressed their foreheads together. His morning breath was brutal but for some reason that only turned Gerard on more.
No shame. Only a desperate chase of pleasure. Fuck. Frank was gonna kill him.
“Put it in,” Frank demanded again. “Need to feel your big cock.”
Gerard smirked at that, thinking about Frank coming his fucking brains out wrapped around his wrist.
“Yeah? You still think it’s big?”
Frank nodded eagerly. “So big, sir. All mine.”
Gerard kissed him then, holding him tight and reveling in how he squirmed against him, trying to rub all of their bodies together.
“If it’s yours, then take it,” he said.
Frank's open mouth moaned against his jaw. He was clumsy, fighting with his own poor motor skills to get Gerard’s cock out of his pajama shorts.
Gerard hissed when his hot, clammy hand wrapped around his length. He was so hard it fucking hurt.
He knew his dick was big. It wasn’t exactly a point of pride for him. Well maybe it felt good when people saw it for the first time and he got to see the look on their faces. His cock was long and thick, the skin so delicate and thin over the veins.
Frank was wrapping two hands around it, squeezing lightly, like he was sizing him up.
“Mine,” he hissed.
Gerard felt himself go boneless. Frank could do whatever he wanted with him. Rip out his heart, toss him like pizza dough. He didn’t care.
And then Frank was sinking down on him. Ass hot and tight still, so fucking wet for Gerard.
A high, cracking moan came out of Gerard’s throat at the pressure. He’d been so turned on in the past 12 hours, without doing much of anything about it.
The relief of Frank wrapped around his cock, his soft, heavy body laying over Gerard, face mashed into his collar bone and breath panting against Gerard’s chest. Just sitting on it.
Frank wasn’t trying to fuck himself at all.
Gerard gritted his teeth. Hold on. Hold on. But Frank was baring down on him, fucking squeezing his cock with his ass. Oh God, he was gonna come like this.
“I want it,” Frank whispered in his ear. “Come in me.”
And Gerard was coming just like that. Barely rocking his hips up into Frank. Moaning and scratching his fingers up his back.
“Yeeeees,” Frank hissed.
The orgasm felt like it wouldn’t end, his cock jerking inside Frank, body shaking and sweating.
Gerard pushed Frank over, staying inside of him and rocking down as he felt his fucking balls empty. Moaning and twitching and just staring at Frank in awe.
So much come. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shot so much.
Frank looked blissed out, hand wrapped lazily around his own cock.
Gerard hooked his elbows under Frank’s knees and pushed them back toward his chest, savouring in the noise it pulled out of him.
“Don’t move,” Gerard gasped.
He pulled out and Frank whined in protest but stayed, holding himself open. Gerard watched a little rivulet of his cum slip out of Frank’s ass.
He couldn’t help himself. He gathered it up with two fingers, grinning at the noise Frank made, and pushed his come into Frank’s mouth.
And like a good, good boy, Frank licked it up and moaned happily.
“Such a sweet puppy,” Gerard cooed, smirking.
“Oh my fucking God,” Frank moaned.
Not what a good puppy would say, but it was good to hear Frank using his words.
“Stay, puppy,” he said, leaning over the bed.
He’d hung the bag with all of the gear on one of the bed posts for easy access.
When Frank saw him pull out the plug he keened in his throat.
“This is what you want?” he asked, even though he knew.
Frank nodded eagerly, opening himself up more. Gerard leaned back to take it all in. His cock flushed to his stomach, ass so wet and fucked and dripping with Gerard’s cum. The hair stuck to his face and neck, the flush under the ink of his tattoos.
“My baby is so, so gorgeous,” Gerard breathed.
Frank whined happily, preening.
Gerard ran the plug over his hole, through the slick and cum, shivering at Frank’s little moans, still holding himself open. Gerard pushed in the plug and watched a little spurt of come land on Frank’s sweat soaked stomach.
Without thinking, he leaned down and licked it up, watching Frank's face as he swallowed.
“Gee, fuck,” he gasped.
Gerard bit his own lip, feeling wrung out and sweaty and fucking diabolical.
“You’re gonna come in my mouth, Frankie,” he said. “But you’re going to swallow it. Okay?”
All he could see was the whites in Frank’s eyes, feel him tense under him as more come drooled from his cock.
Gerard swallowed him down and worked him slow, but all he had to do was press his knuckles against the base of the plug and Frank was filling his mouth. Hot and salty and so fucking much of it.
Gerard fought the urge to swallow and just let it pool in his mouth and Frank rocked his hips up into him, grinding little circles against the knuckles pressed on his ass.
When Gerard couldn’t take any more, he let Frank’s spent cock slip out of his mouth.
Frank was letting out a breathy string of moans in anticipation for what was about to happen.
Gerard crawled up his body, grabbed his face between his hands and forced his mouth open.
Frank was watching his face, gasping to get air, and stuck out his tongue as Gerard spit his own load back into his mouth.
Fuck.
It pooled on Frank’s tongue, absolutely debauched. And Frank just held it there. Tasting himself as Gerard swallowed what was left in his own mouth.
“Good, good boy,” Gerard said.
His voice was so rough. It sounded like someone else completely.
“Swallow it.”
Frank did as he was told. Gerard pulled him into his chest, feeling overcome with gratitude and the all consuming love he felt when Frank was near.
They hadn’t said it yet. He held off. But he loved him. So much it hurt.
“You’re the best, Frankie,” he was saying into his hair. “So sweet and smart and beautiful.”
Frank had him in a vice grip, holding so tight he was almost shaking.
“I think you might be an angel from heaven, you know? You’re just so good.”
He heard a sniffle, felt tears against his chest.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Frank nodded against him. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Gerard wasn’t done yet. “Thank you for trusting me to take care of you, sweetheart. You’ve been so good. So, so, so good for me. When you feel better I’m going to spoil you rotten. I’d give you the world if I could.”
“I love you,” Frank mumbled against his shoulder.
Gerard made a happy little noise. He put a finger under Frank’s chin and got them so he could see Frank’s face. His glazed eyes wet with tears. Self conscious, nervous but so devoted.
“I love you too,” he said.
Frank pushed their lips together in a messy, unco-ordinated kiss, and they stayed tangled together, kissing lazily, until the sun rose.
“This is crazy,” Danica said.
Frank shrugged, shovelling sausage in his mouth.
It was noon and he was showered, dressed, and sitting up on his own. Yeah, he was sitting in Gerard’s lap, but he was sitting. And maybe he wasn’t saying much, but when Ray spoke to him his eyes were clear.
Usually at this point in the heat, he would be dehydrated, insatiable, angrily demanding a cigarette before lapsing back into that needy desperation.
“Have more water,” Gerard said, quiet but firm, and Frank did as he was told.
Gerard hooked his chin over Frank’s shoulder to eat his own breakfast. If he noticed people in the pack were staring, he didn’t seem to care.
Gerard dropped a chaste kiss on Frank’s shoulder, and Frank’s smile was blinding.
“Do you want to walk to the lake after?” Gerard asked.
Frank nodded, mouth stuffed with toast and eggs.
“And play that game,” Frank mumbled.
Gerard brightened up. “Oh yeah! Would anyone like to play an RPG later? It’s super easy, I promise. Everyone just needs a pen and paper and I’ll guide you through it.”
Frank hummed happily.
“I’m down,” Tucker said.
And others in the pack followed suit. They had one more night of turning ahead of them, but most of them were worn out and an afternoon around the table sounded like a good plan.
Gerard and Frank got suited up in their coats and boots while the other wolves began cleaning up.
Ray watched them disappear down the driveway, told himself to let them go, but that nagging alpha voice in his head had him pulling on his own boots.
Just in case something happened.
He didn’t want to be rude, but if Frank couldn’t get up, he knew Gerard couldn’t lift him. They were both tiny guys.
He followed their footprints down to the lake and spotted them down on the beach, Frank leaning back into Gerard.
Ray paused, suddenly feeling like he was being intrusive and overbearing. They looked fine.
Even from far away, he could pick up on Frank’s sigh.
And hear Gerard say, “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” Frank breathed.
“You feel okay?”
“Mhm.”
Then Gerard did something, something Ray couldn’t see, and Frank’s voice cracked around a low moan.
“And if you need me to fuck you, you’re gonna tell me?”
“Yes, yes, I’ll tell you.”
“But you don’t need it, right?”
“I don’t need it. I’ll be good.”
“So good, Frankie. You’re perfect.”
Alright, that was enough of that. Ray headed back up to the house. He was surprised to find Danica on her way down to check on them.
“I don’t know how he’s out of bed,” she said. “It’s not over. I can still smell it on him.”
Ray looked over his shoulder, where he could see them still standing by the frozen lake.
“If that guy was a wolf,” Ray said, “he would be a strong fucking Alpha.”
Good, you’re so good, so sweet for me, love you so much.
Frank was preening. God, he’d never felt like this in his fucking life.
The heat was like a simmer, low in his belly. Not taking him over, not pushing him down onto the floor like a wild animal.
Gerard’s chin hooked over his shoulder held him steady. The sound of his soothing praise from earlier ran through his head. He was in his lap again, the plug grounding him further, making him feel claimed. Taken.
Every so often, Gerard’s hand would skim up to his throat and just hold him, like it was nothing. No big deal.
And all around the table, the game kept going.
Frank couldn’t play. Could barely speak unless it was to Gerard or to answer his Alpha. But he was there, watching, being good.
Being good meant something different to Gerard than it had to the wolves.
When his packmates fucked him, being good meant submitting. Going pliant. Getting fucked in that relentless, primal way. Taking a bite on the back of the neck, feeling their knot lock them together. And it never felt like enough.
But with Gerard, being good meant being in control. Holding off. Obedient.
And the sex was just so different. Shit he would never, ever do with a pack mate. Primal on a whole different level.
Shin humping, come snowballing, holding Gerard’s cock in his fangs. Oh God. Frank felt his eyes roll back in his head and bit his lip. A wave of pleasure rolled through him as he tightened around the plug. It was so fucking big. Not the biggest one, but he knew he couldn’t take it if he wasn’t in heat.
“Hey,” Gerard said softly in his ear. “You’re okay.”
Frank said, “I’m okay.”
He took a slow, measured breath. He was full. Gee’s cum was still in him. Gee’s free hand was sliding up under his shirt, caressing his stomach.
When Frank looked up, Tucker was watching him.
After the last full moon, Tucker met up with him for a beer and apologized. They were cool. Tucker had explained he wasn’t jealous, which Frank only half believed.
There was a searing heat in his gaze.
The pack was paying attention to the game, as Gerard guided them down into a dungeon, where a dragon hoarded a precious gem they needed to reclaim.
He did this game, he explained, to get people interested in Dungeons and Dragons. All you needed was dice and something to write with.
And the ease he dropped everyone into this mystical cavern, the control he had over a table of 8 werewolves, while keeping Frank quiet and still in his lap…
Other Alphas would bristle at the thought of someone holding any sort of power over their pack. But when Frank caught Ray’s gaze, he was grinning.
Gerard’s hand had worked its way back to Frank’s throat, touching it lovingly, spreading his fingers to rub lightly at his jaw.
“Okay, Frankie, Tucker woke the dragon,” he said. “Can you be the dragon and roll the dice?”
“I’m the dragon,” he said dreamily.
“Yes you are,” Gerard said. “The dragon shakes his scales, raining gold over your party. He wishes you no harm, but it is his instinct to guard the treasure whatever the cost.”
Silence around the table of wolves.
“How do you approach the dragon?” Gerard asked.
Tucker thought about it for a second. “I want to leave him alone.”
“Yeah, leave him alone,” another wolf said.
“This is kind of his area.”
“We’re on his turf.”
Gerard seemed delighted by the answer. “You want to turn your back on the dragon?” he asked.
“Wait, that doesn’t sound like a good idea,” said Angela.
While they debated, Gerard folded his arms back over Frank’s stomach and hugged him tight. Frank had the dice in his hands, staring at them like he didn’t quite get why he had them.
He turned his head, dragging his nose up the side of Gerard’s face. He started kissing his jaw, savouring the sweet salt taste of his skin, breathing heavily near his ear.
Gerard was saying something blah blah dragon blah blah dice. Frank turned back to the table, shook his hands and dropped the dice.
“Thank you, pumpkin,” Gerard said.
He had to roll the dice a couple more times. Whatever was happening with the dragon, he had no clue.
Gerard was playing with the hem of Frank’s shirt idly, ignoring the way Frank was scenting his neck, sighing at the taste.
Frank closed his eyes, feeling a wave of need and desperation for Gerard to touch him, push him down, fuck him. Tell him he was a good, good boy, a sweet angel for him, while the whole pack watched him take it.
He tightened around the plug in his ass, tears welling in his eyes, and wriggled a little to feel it grind against his prostate.
Frank moaned, and sensed the table go quiet. He could keep his eyes closed, keep grinding in Gerard’s lap, make himself come without being touched.
They would all know he belonged to Gerard. Would see how easy he was for Gerard.
But then there were hands on his hips, stilling him.
“We’re almost done playing the game," Gerard murmured.
He was losing it. Had to show Gee he could be good.
He put his hands on Gerard’s and took a deep, shuddering breath. Hold on, hold on.
Tucker had that look in his eyes again, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
He looked away when he noticed Frank, going red from his throat to his ears.
Gerard planted a kiss on Frank’s jaw and Frank sighed happily.
He wanted more kisses. More of his mate’s hands all over his skin. Whispered I love you’s and Gee’s hands playing with his hair, taking him slow and tender.
And there it was. That dull ache, coming back. The plug made it easier, but it wasn’t just about being full. He needed more.
He made a little urgent noise in his throat, fingers tightening around Gerard’s on his hips.
Gerard guided Frank’s hands back onto the table and put the dice in his palm. “Okay, let’s go Dragon.”
Right, he was a dragon. He could do this.
Frank rolled them extra long, then brought them up to his face to blow on them for good luck.
He tossed them onto the table.
“Twelve!” Gerard cried. “The dragon opens its maw, fire pouring from between its long, dripping teeth, and burns you all to a crisp.”
“Noooo!” Dallon cried. “We were so close.”
“I’d offer to run a different game, but I should get Frank upstairs,” Gerard said, pushing their chair back.
The motion of the chair moving shifted the plug and Frank went limp in Gerard’s lap, head tilting back. “Oh fuck,” he groaned.
Someone at the table cleared their throat. Another whispered, “God damn.”
“Do you need a hand?” Ray asked.
Gerard had a smirk in his voice when he said, “I think you’ve got this, right Frankie?”
Frank took a deep breath, put his hands out on the table and got to his feet, legs unsteady but holding him up. “I’m good,” he said.
Gerard wrapped an arm around his waist. “Come on, loverboy.”
Frank hummed happily at the nickname.
As they left the room, Frank heard someone swear, voice low almost to a growl.
Gerard helped him to the stairs. They took them slowly, Frank holding on to the railing, but he was just glad not to get picked up. He hated getting carried when he was like this. Just another layer of weakness and humiliation.
But he was putting one foot in front of the other, even though he ached and felt like his knees were made of water, and the plug in him shifted and sent sparks up his spine with each step.
He thought of when they were down by the lake, Gerard pressing his knuckles into the base of the plug, his wicked little grin at how it made Frank sweat and moan. Coaching him through the waves of heat and pleasure, demanding he keep his composure.
Fuck.
“You did amazing, Frankie,” Gerard said. “How are you feeling?”
Frank thought about it. “Tired.”
“You want to go to sleep?”
“No.”
Gerard closed the door to their room behind them and got Frank onto the bed, belly down. “Just relax,” he said. “I’ve got you. Hips up.”
Frank got his knees under him and Gerard slid a towel under them, before sliding Frank’s pants and underwear down.
When the cool air of the room touched his bare skin, Frank keened into the pillow under his head.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” Gerard sighed.
Frank just wanted to cry from the praise.
Then Gerard was pressing on the base of the plug again, grinding it deep. Frank could hear the slickness from his ass, spreading onto his cheeks. He groaned deep, pressing further into the pillow.
“Can you touch yourself?” Gerard asked.
Frank’s hand slid down to wrap around his cock, throbbing and leaking into his own palm. His hand moved over himself fast, desperation freeing him from all shame at how hard he was chasing his orgasm.
Gerard pulled on the base of the plug, just a little, and the friction made Frank lose it. His orgasm ripped through him, hot and sudden and violent enough that he started to choke on his own spit. He felt himself spilling onto the towel, the throbbing sweet agony of the toy moving against his prostate, stretching his hole as he clenched on it.
But once he started choking, he couldn’t stop, coughing and moaning and coming and gripping at the sheets.
“Breathe, Frank,” Gerard said, stilling his hand. He rubbed up and down his back.
Frank finally caught his breath, whole body shuddering, hand still jerking himself off slowly through the endless aftershock as his prostate was overstimulated.
Gerard was pressing on the base of the toy, making him scream into the pillow.
“Deep breath,” Gerard said.
And then the fucking pull of it coming out, dragging on his insides, his rim, leaving him so fucking empty and used and oh Jesus Christ, the feeling of Gerard’s come and his own slick and he was coming again, squeezing his cock but he was so fucking spent it was a dry orgasm.
He had tears in his eyes when he looked over his shoulder, to Gerard kneeling on the bed behind him.
He had the sleeves of his plaid shirt rolled up to the elbow, his cock hard in his sweatpants, eyes dark and pupils blown. His hair was all tangled and messy and shaggy, from days of fucking the soul out of Frank, and the thought that he’d been looking like that, holding Frank by his throat while he ground himself on a toy, in front of the whole pack.
Claiming him, so proud to show that they were together.
The tears came faster, rolling fat down his cheeks.
When Gerard saw Frank’s face, he frowned and reached out his clean hand, wiping them away. “Why are you crying, sweetheart?” he asked.
Frank sighed, squeezing his spent cock. It was so sensitive. Everything felt so sensitive and so tired and so good.
“Happy,” he choked out. “Feels right with you.”
Gerard grinned, captured his face and cradled it and pushed their lips together gently. Like they kissed at home, lazy on Gerard’s couch, tasting each other, sharing warmth and sweetness.
“My sweet angel,” Gerard said gently.
Frank shivered and surprised himself by crying again, turned away and dropped his face back onto the pillow.
When Gerard started trying to roll him onto his back, he went willingly but kept the pillow hugged tight to his face. God, he was so embarrassing.
Frank cried easily though. Not often, but when the feeling took him over it was almost impossible for him to stop.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
Gerard didn’t try to take the pillow away from him, but he could feel him lying at his side, watching and waiting for him to uncover his face.
When Frank finally did look, he was shocked to see Gerard also had tears in his eyes. Gerard looked away and laughed at himself, wiping at them with his elbow.
“Are you okay?” Frank asked.
It had been almost two days of Gerard fretting over him, soothing him with his words and his hands, watching over him, making him come and cleaning him up and tucking him in and Frank hadn’t had the mental space to even really think about how Gerard was doing.
Gerard smiled at him, but it was a weak sort of smile, a couple more tears rolling down his own face.
“They told me this was going to be intense,” he said.
Frank felt exhaustion pulling at him. He didn’t want to be tired though, didn’t want to still be heat-fucked and unable to be there for his partner. And maybe that was some of the first signs it was almost over.
“I’m sorry,” Frank said again. “I don’t want to make you sad.”
Gerard laid his hand over Frank’s cheek. “I’m not sad,” he said. “I just love the fuck out of you.”
Frank wriggled closer to him, got his head tucked under Gerard’s chin. He wanted to know something, and was almost too afraid to put it into words, because he knew there was a wrong answer. “When did you first feel it?” Frank asked.
He prayed it wasn’t during the heat.
Gerard was carding his fingers in his hair, thinking. “When I had my panic attack and you stayed the night,” he said. “You made sure I was okay.”
Frank hummed, tears pricking again. “I’m always being taken care of. Nice to return the favour.”
Gerard played with his hair. “How about you?”
Frank didn’t even have to think about it. “You gave me a biscuit,” he said.
Gerard barked out a loud laugh. “Seriously?”
It was before he’d ever shown a real interest in Gerard, but just picturing him in his kitchen, in his old lady apron and oven mitts, Frank felt like there was a lump in his throat. “It was a good biscuit,” he said.
“You’re a biscuit,” Gerard giggled, tapping on his nose.
Frank knew he looked like a fucking idiot, smiling at him all dopey after getting his nose booped. He slumped forward, faceplanting in Gerard’s neck. He realized for the first time his pants were tugged down around his knees while Gerard was fully clothed.
He slid a heavy, lazy hand up Gerard’s side, under his shirt, as he kissed him. Felt Gerard’s stomach flex under his hand, so sensitive to Frank’s touch. He had so much of Gerard to explore, to discover what he liked, what made his toes curl.
Obviously he was a bit freaky.
Looking back on the week, everything seemed steeped in the haze of the coming heat. Desperation.
“Take this shit off,” he grunted, forcing himself to sit up just a little.
Gerard pulled it off, balled it up and tossed it in the direction of his duffel bag. Then he was kissing Frank’s lips again, holding his face between both of his big hands, fingertips rubbing lightly in his scalp.
Frank pushed him onto his back, realized that Gerard had tossed the towel he’d cum on somewhere on the floor, thank God.
Ugh, Ray was going to make him do so much cottage laundry. Another sign the heat was receding. Thinking about laundry.
Gerard started taking the lead, hands roaming up Frank’s shirt, but Frank grabbed his wrists and stopped him.
“Stay still,” he said.
Gerard swallowed, watching Frank get up on his knees and pull his own pants back up.
“You’ve done more than enough this weekend,” Frank said, tracing his fingers down the middle of Gerard’s pale, soft chest.
The dip between his pecs, the valley between his ribs, the coarse hair around his belly button. Gerard was both soft and hard, a little fluff hiding a surprising strength underneath. The body of a guy who knew how to cook a mean dinner and walked everywhere, regardless of the weather.
Frank hooked his fingers in the waistband of Gerard’s pants, dipping them in low enough to feel his fingers scratch through the coarse hair above his dick, watching Gerard’s face closely.
He licked his lips and took in a shaky breath.
“Are you, uh, sure you can – ”
Frank felt good. Felt better than he had in days. Felt like him fucking self. He could feel it now, the pull of the moon. Knew immediately that he was going to shift tonight. He grinned up at Gerard, resting his chin on his hip bone.
“Oh, I’m feeling excellent,” he said. “You know, I kind of wish we’d had time to… explore a little more before this weekend.”
Gerard took a shuddering breath. His cock was so hard, Frank could feel it twitch where it rested just under his palm. He smirked.
“Yeah?” Gerard said, voice cracking.
Frank nodded, making his eyes wide and innocent. “Yeah, I mean I like being submissive, but most of the time, that’s not really what I’m about.” He dropped a lingering, wet kiss on Gerard’s hip, staring deep into his eyes. “How about you, Gee? Do you like getting fucked?”
He watched Gerard’s eyes roll back in his head, couldn’t help but think he looked so fucking pretty like that.
“Oh my fucking God yes,” Gerard said.
Frank tugged his pants down sharply, grinning when Gerard’s cock slapped against his own stomach and he groaned.
“I think you were the real good boy this weekend,” Frank said, still keeping his tone so light and innocent. “Giving and giving and giving, but how many times did you actually come?”
Gerard’s voice cracked when he said, “Once.” Then, eyes shut tight and hand sliding back into Frank’s hair, he said, “Please, Frankie, fuck.”
“Please what?”
His cock was so close to Frank’s face he could feel the heat from it. He was leaving more of those wet, lingering kisses that he knew would feel so fucking good around the head of Gerard’s cock.
“Put it in your mouth,” he groaned.
Frank wrapped his hand around it, waiting until Gerard looked down at him before dragging the tip over his tongue. Gerard’s hand tightened in his hair, not pressuring him to do anything, just looking for something to hold onto.
When Frank finally sunk down on it and started sucking, Gerard’s moans were loud and deep. Frank savoured it, putting his hands back over Gerard’s chest to feel the vibration in his palms, finding a rhythm that had Gerard thrusting up just a little into his mouth.
“Holy fuck,” Gerard gasped when Frank hollowed his cheeks.
The sound of him sucking cock filled the room, so wet and filthy. He worked him in his mouth, dragging his knuckles back down over his stomach, feeling the muscles flex under his touch, then lower, over his inner thighs. Gerard was moaning with every breath, turning his knee out to let Frank hold his balls.
He pulled off his cock, face wet with his own spit.
Gerard had his face hidden in his own elbow, muffling the endless litany of moans, but he looked back down when Frank stopped sucking him.
His eyes were so glazed. “Frankie, please,” he begged.
Frank wrapped his hand around him, jerking him steadily as he rested Gerard’s cock against his cheek. “Hmmm, I just remembered something,” Frank said.
Gerard’s responding, “What?” came out a little too rude for Frank’s taste, so he slowed his hand down, turning his head to give Gerard’s cock a little kiss.
“I remember something absolutely filthy, Gee,” he said, making his eyes go all big again.
Gerard groaned and he covered his face in his arm again, hips jerking off the bed and pre-cum easing the slide of Frank’s hand even more.
“Look at me,” Frank demanded.
Gerard dropped his arm, looking down at him again with his mouth fucking wet and red and his face fully flushed.
“Now that I’m thinking of it,” Frank said slowly, “I remember someone spit my load back into my mouth and made me swallow it.”
“Oh God, oh fucking God Frankie,” Gerard gasped.
More pre-cum. He could feel Gerard’s thighs shaking. Frank grinned up at him. So perfect, so fucking perfect and responsive and easy and God, he loved him.
“I think I’m going to have to return the favour, loverboy,” he said.
And Frank pressed his knuckles into Gerard’s perineum and took his cock back in his mouth at the same time, sucking and grinding into that sweet spot just under his balls and Gerard’s cock twitched on his tongue.
He came with a shout, head thrown back, pulling Frank’s hair so hard it made his eyes sting with tears again.
Fuck, there was so much of it. Frank just wanted to swallow it himself, savour the taste and the feeling of it inside him.
Gerard was whimpering, thighs shaking hard now as he tightened his legs around Frank’s arm, where he was still pressing against him.
He imagined how good it would feel to be buried in Gerard, while those strong, slender fucking legs pulled him in deeper.
Fuck.
Frank pulled off of him, as his cock started to flag.
Gerard was staring up at him, eyes wide and expectant, lips parted, as Frank crawled up his body.
So beautiful.
Frank used his thumb and forefinger to open Gerard’s mouth wider and then he pressed their lips together, opening his own mouth.
Gerard’s come slid in slowly at first, then Gerard was forcing his tongue into Frank’s mouth, taking it from him. Frank groaned. He couldn’t get hard again. In fact, he felt like his dick should be put on bed rest for at least a week.
But if he could have, he would have.
Gerard was moaning into his mouth, letting his own come lay on his tongue while they kissed.
“You taste so good,” Frank whispered, pulling back.
Gerard held his mouth open, showing him. Frank bit his own bottom lip, running his thumb against Gerard’s.
“Swallow,” he said.
Gerard did as he was told.
Frank had the biggest shit eating grin when he said, “Good puppy.”
And watched Gerard’s eyes roll back in his head again, a thin noise coming from his throat. He was sweaty, tousled, spent, completely weak. Frank kissed his cheeks and forehead, then pulled the comforter over them.
They were both about ready for a nap.
Everyone was already sitting at the table when Frank and Gerard came downstairs. Ray could tell the heat was over just by how Frank slammed down the stairs two at a time.
The difference between his regular self and the heat was night and day.
Frank sauntered up to the two empty seats, grabbed a bread roll, bit half, then said, “Think fast dipshit” and whipped it at Tucker.
Tucker snatched it out of the air, then frowned. “Fuck, I don’t like that I knew I was the dipshit.”
“I take it you’re feeling better,” Ray said.
Frank plopped down, Gerard on his other side. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said in an ‘end of story, let’s not talk about this at all’ way.
Gerard sat down in his own chair, looking like he’d just woken up. Frank waited for him to scoot closer to the table then wrapped his arm over the back of Gerard’s chair. Ray thought of him that afternoon, struggling to keep his eyes open in Gerard’s lap, rousing back into paying attention every time Gerard calmly rested his hand over his throat…
And now Frank was sitting leaned back in his chair, alert.
When Gerard looked over at Frank, his face broke out into a sweet little smile and he dropped his head onto his shoulder.
Something in Ray had been loosening over the weekend. The tight fist of concern he had for Frank was slowly uncurling its fingers, a tension he hadn’t known he had been carrying. A silent terror that Frank would never let himself find someone, out of fear of looking weak.
Dallon and a couple of the other guys brought out pans of leftover turkey, potatoes, pork chops. The last shift was in about an hour.
Ray knew, in that way he just did sometimes as Alpha, that the pack was in for a quiet night. No hunting, no long runs.
Everyone was waiting for Ray to say something before they ate, but Frank cleared his throat.
“Um, I have something I wanted to say.”
He looked a bit like he wanted to put a butter knife through his eye. Gerard’s expression told Ray he also didn’t know what Frank was about to say.
“Okay, you all know I hate talking about this fucking shit,” he said, voice a little shaky. “Everybody knows what’s up with me. Most of you have seen it in action, especially this weekend, and uh, yeah. It’s a sensitive subject for me or whatever.”
Around the table, everyone was watching Frank respectfully.
“Anyway, I know it’s a lot. I think the heat has always been so intense and embarrassing, I haven’t properly thanked you all for taking care of me,” he said. “So, um, thank you.”
The other wolves all looked very touched and Ray could see it was killing Frankie to be so sincere. Before anyone could say anything too mushy, Ray cleared his own throat.
“Well, I’m glad you got a boyfriend and realized you’re a fucking dick,” he said, and Frank cracked up. “Alright, let's eat.”
Everyone started shoving their dinners in their faces.
The moon began to rise before they could clear the table again and everyone slowly began leaving the table, leaving their clothes behind, and shedding their skins as they slid off into the night.
Once again, Frank and Ray were the last ones with Gerard.
“Get your coat on,” Ray said.
“Me?” Gerard asked, surprised.
Ray raised his eyebrows. “You’re not still scared of werewolves, are you?”
Gerard looked a little embarrassed but it was enough to convince him to get suited up for outside.
Frank kissed his temple, almost vibrating out of his human skin with how long he’d fought off the moon. He ducked outside.
Ray could feel its pull but he was so anchored to himself, he could probably spend the night a human if he really wanted to.
He never would, but he could.
“Come on,” he told Gerard, guiding him out into the yard.
Ray was down to his running shorts, the cold of the snow barely registering on his hot skin, as they stepped into the moonlight.
The night was bright and quiet and full of stars.
“The last night of the shift we have a tradition,” Ray said.
Gerard was transfixed on something ahead of them — Frank, shifted and prowling at the edge of the woods, waiting for his mate.
“He would never hurt you,” Ray said.
“I know.”
Ray grinned at him and whistled. Frank came loping toward them. He was such a fucking wrecking ball as a wolf too. Clumsy and rough and too heavy on his feet.
He skidded to a stop in front of them, taller than Ray this way, even resting on all fours.
He lowered his head for Gerard, who hesitated, then buried his mitten in Frank’s fur.
“His eyes are the same,” Gerard murmured.
Frank made a happy rumble.
“Holy shit.”
Ray chuckled. “He still knows what you’re saying,” he said.
“I guess I’ll watch my mouth then.”
Frank pulled back then and opened his jaws, rumbling again, baring his fangs. Then he closed them lightly around Gerard’s arm, enveloping him up to the elbow. He let a deep growl roll through him, blowing Gerard’s hair back from his face.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Oh, come on,” Ray said. “I’m right here.”
He hooked his hand in Frank’s maw and pulled his jaws open. Frank took a step back and Ray could feel his smugness.
Gerard looked dazed and smelled horny. Maybe Ray should have left him in the house.
“As I was saying,” he said forcefully, giving Frank a little boot in the leg to get him going again. “We have a tradition.”
They were walking to the edge of the woods, Frank trotting in front of them.
“On the last day of the shift we are all pretty gassed, so we usually come out here and just hang out for the night.”
They were in sight of the pack now, all laying together in a moonlit clearing.
“We call it a cuddle puddle,” Ray said, scratching the back of his neck. “We were all talking earlier and, yeah, we were thinking you could join us for a bit? It’s gonna make your clothes stink like hell but I’ll cover the dry cleaning, man.”
Gerard’s eyebrows were drawn up, looking at all the wolves just rolling around with each other, grooming each other's coats. Laying in a big lump.
“Obviously leave whenever you want, I know it’s fucking cold out, but…. Yeah, you’re part of the pack now so we want you here.”
Gerard looked at him with a sheepish little smile. “I’m part of the pack?”
Ray gave him a big slap on the back. “Yeah, dude. Of course you are. You did all of those dishes, you know?”
Gerard was beaming at him.
“Alright, well, get in there.”
Frank was waiting for Gerard, and before Ray shifted himself, he watched Frank scoop up his boyfriend, heard the delighted peel of laughter as Frank threw him onto his back and carried them into the pile.
“This is crazy,” Gerard was giggling, as he got snuggled up tight by a bunch of 8 foot tall wolf monsters.
When Ray howled at the moon, they all joined. Even Gerard.
Epilogue
“My dear fellowship of adventurers,” Gerard said in his low, gravelly, dramatic way. “In a clearing, on a bright moonlit night, a new friend seeks you out. A man who is half beast, who asks to join your party.”
“I didn’t know there were playable werewolves in D&D,” Joe said.
“Shut up, there are now.”
Frank was wearing fuzzy Halloween dog ears and Gerard painted fangs up one side of his cheek. He looked very pleased with himself.
“He’s being accommodating,” Frank said.
Gerard put his hand on Frank’s arm. “Thank you, baby.”
“Get a room,” Mikey snorted.
“Do you accept Frank into your party?” Gerard asked.
Even though Frank knows they’re going to say yes, he felt nervous for a moment. He thought of Gerard on the full moon, laying under the stars with the pack.
This group of scrawny, pale nerds is Gerard’s pack, and he wanted to be accepted more than anything.
Joe looked at Pete, who looked at Frank, then back to Mikey. Patrick and Andy were both grinning.
Mikey gives Frank a warm look, smiling from under his eyelashes. He looked so much like Gee that Frank was overcome with love for the whole damn Way family.
“Yeah, you’re in,” he said.
Gerard slapped the table, lowering his gaze so he had that creepy, intense look on his face again. The one that gave Frank an electric jolt in his lower stomach.
He pulled the cowl of his hood down over his head, throwing his eyes into shadow, leaving only his nose and chin and the thick red line that trails down his throat.
Frank shivered and found Gerard’s hand under the table, linking their fingers together.
“Excellent. Then let’s cut the chit chat and play this thing.”