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At this point in their relationship, Gerard had seen Frank in all stages of undress. Fuck, he’s had him in all positions Frank can twist himself into.
But there's something different about this.
“What if I look stupid?”
“Frankie, I promise you, you won't look stupid.”
“You don't know that,” Frank whines, the tips of his ears burning red with embarrassment.
There's a pair of women's lace cut panties laid out on the bed in front of Frank, and the more he stares at them, the harder he flushes all the way down to his chest.
“I'm going to look stupid,” he concludes with a nod, burying his head in his hands.
“Frank, you're not going to look stupid.”
The confidence and assurance in Gerard’s tinny voice down the phone slightly alleviates the anxiety that gnaws at Frank's stomach, but only slightly.
They'd talked about this over and over again, both agreeing to try it out as a pseudo Valentine's Day present, but the closer it got to the dreaded day, Frank had almost backed out twice.
The fact that this was Frank’s idea, to dress up and be referred to as a girl the whole time, doesn’t help the anxiety that eats at him. What if Gerard is only going alone with it because he feels forced? What if he hates how Frank looks? Fuck fuck fuck.
“What if you wear them and I fuck you?” Frank suggests, only half joking.
Gerard sees straight through his attempt at humour. “Baby, if they make you uncomfortable, you don't want to wear them, and we can scrap the whole idea, no issue.”
Frank chews at his fingers, eyes continuing to bore into the offending piece of material. There's guilt setting in his stomach like a stone.
“It's not that I'm uncomfortable with them. It's just…” Frank trails off and glares at the underwear.
“Just…?” Gerard prompts down the phone line.
Frank sighs deep in his throat and kicks the panties off the bed and onto the floor.
“I'm going to look fucking ridiculous. They squish my thighs, and my balls poke out the side, and I don't even look good in them soft, and–”
“Frankie–” Gerard half-shouts down the line to stop the spiral Frank is currently on. “Baby, all I've been thinking about is your body in them. How beautiful your tattoos will look against the lace. You'll look so soft and sweet.”
It's so unfair how Gerard's word, kind and attempting to placate him, can have Frank's blood running south so quickly.
“I don't want you to do it for me, though,” Gerard continues. “You were the one who brought the idea up, so obviously it's something you've been wanting to try?”
“Yes…” Frank replies meekly.
It was initially his idea. He'd seen the advertisement for the panties while on an undisclosed website, while he may or may not have been searching for new toys. The aforementioned underwear made him feel hot under the collar in a way Frank hadn't experienced before, and Gerard had been eager to entertain the idea.
But now they were here, and when Frank had tried them on, he took one look in the mirror and stripped them off so fast he was worried he took layers of skin with it.
If Frank was honest, the purple lace did look good on his tattoos, his body soft and spilling where the waistband dug into his stomach. There was still this nagging, horrid little thought that clawed at his brain when he looked at himself.
And the act of Gerard calling him a girl the entire time? Yeah, that was Frank's idea too. Naturally.
“What's making you feel so weird about them, sweetheart? There's something you're not saying,” Gerard prods softly, able to read Frank like an open book.
Frank takes up biting at his cuticles again, wondering how much shit he'd be in if he just hung up on his boyfriend right now.
It's not a good idea, he concludes after half a second of thought.
“What if you think I look stupid and ugly?” he says, quiet and meek, into the phone.
Frank's heart beats in his chest painfully, almost in time with his leg bouncing up and down, all his nervous energy housed in a single limb.
“Oh, Frankie,” Gerard breathes, and there's a noise on the other side of the phone like Gerard actually breathed against the microphone. “That's what you were worried about?”
“Well, yeah,” Frank sighs. Great, now he's stuck having a conversation he was hoping to lie his way out of.
“Like what if you realise you hate how I look?” Frank rants. “Or you calling me a girl grosses you out? It's selfish, but I really want this, like so much. And what if you realise you hate it but still have to do it because I'm making you? It's embarrassing.”
The flush on Frank's skin is burning, and his stomach lurches when Gerard is silent on the other side of the call. He’s fucked it up. He's said something stupid and fucked it all up.
“Frank.” Gerard's voice is stern, and if Frank were in a different headspace, he would've giggled and called him out on his dom voice. “You are not making me do anything. I wouldn't have agreed to this if I thought it, or you, would gross me out, because that's simply not possible. It's not selfish of you to want things.”
“You're not going to know if you like it or not until we're actually doing it,” Frank argues back.
“No, Frankie. I already know I'm going to like it,” Gerard states, and Frank scoffs at him.
“How?”
“Because I get hard every time I think about it,” Gerard simply says.
Frank still doesn't believe him, and it must come across with the silence he gives Gerard back, steeped in disbelief.
“Do you need me to make the decision?” Gerard asks.
He's good at that, making decisions for Frank when Frank is too deeply wrapped in his own worry and self-consciousness, deep in his head where not even Gerard can reach him. It feels good to have the choice out of his hands, for Gerard to take the burden from him.
“Please.”
“We're going to try it out, and if we don’t like it, no harm, no foul. Okay?”
“Okay.”
_________
Valentine's Day gets closer, and the closer it crawls, the more the anxious pit in Frank's stomach grows.
He knew he could back out any time, even though Gerard had gracefully decided for them both, and when he makes a decision, it’s final. Frank no longer felt trapped in the idea, but instead just paralysing anticipation.
The lace panties ended up shoved right at the back of his dresser, burning a hole in the wood. Every time Frank walked past it, he swore he could feel the flames mocking him.
Each day crawled forward like sludge until it was the day. The awful, pink, chocolate-infused day that Frank has been dreading.
He had always hated Valentine's Day, always opting to take a shift at Ray’s record store to cover him while he spent the day with whoever he was dating. It was just a reminder of how alone he was. He still hated the day, but now it was his first holiday with Gerard, and he wanted to make it special.
“Stay up, you fuck,” Frank groans as yet another piece of sickly pink coloured streamer unhooked itself from the corner of his living room ceiling.
The whole room looked like something chewed up and spit out by St. Valentine himself–pink, white and red crepe paper on every surface that could hold them, battery-operated candles (because Frank doesn’t trust himself or Gerard with an open flame) on the coffee table, and his presents for his boyfriend sat on the sofa.
It was romantic, and endearing, and so gross Frank couldn’t believe himself.
His phone buzzes in his pocket halfway through wrestling with the stupid crepe paper, and Frank immediately knows who it is before he plucks it from his jeans.
“Hi, baby,” Gerard greets him, a smile in his voice that Frank can visualise.
“Are you here?” Frank asks, panicked and looking around his living room for any imperfections.
Everything is in place, but Gerard being near still makes his stomach lurch.
“Not yet,” Gerard says with a soft laugh, picking up on the panic lacing Frank's voice. “I'm just waiting for my cab at the station.”
“Okay,” Frank breathes, nauseating anxiety lessening. “Text me when you’re out the front.”
“Frank, I have a key, I can just let myself in,” Gerard laughs.
“No-” Frank nearly shouts, before clearing his throat. “No, just text me, and I’ll come down and get you.”
Gerard hums on the other end of the line, and Frank flushes red, the tips of his ears burning. If the other knows something is up, he doesn’t say anything.
“Okay. I’ll see you in about half an hour, Frankie.”
Frank tosses the phone off to the side as soon as they hang up. He’s gotta put them on. The stupid lacy material he hasn’t had the balls to even look at for a week, let alone touch or put on.
He stares at his dresser and sighs as he pulls it open, shoving aside articles of clothing until he gets a glimpse of lace, and pulls them out. They’re just as soft and purple as he remembers, feminine in a way that has Frank’s cock twitching.
The lurch in Frank's stomach has turned into full-on rolling, despite the arousal that makes itself known. He quickly tugs off his jeans and boxers, putting his legs through the cutouts and pulling them on.
The panties hug his body gloriously–stomach spilling over the waistband where it digs in and, when he turns in the mirror, showcases his ass tantalisingly.
Gerard is right, because he always is, the panties do make his tattoos look good. Black lace complements the dark ink, and the purple highlights the splattering of colour on his body. He looks like something you’d see on a porn website late at night with your hand down your pants. It’s perfect and so obscene.
More streamers have fallen when he walks back into the living room, and Frank groans. He’s not even going to bother putting them back up. It’s fine. It was a futile attempt anyway, especially with the way the paint of the room is peeling off on its own.
Frank can’t sit down, not with the knowledge that Gerard is on his way, and definitely not with the way the panties are riding up his ass, as if he needed a reminder of what’s going on under his jeans. Instead, he potters around the apartment, picking up Lois’s toys and reminding himself to send a text to Mikey to thank him for taking her for the day.
When his phone buzzes in his pocket, Frank blinks, stupefied because there’s no way it’s been half an hour since he last spoke to Gerard. He pulls the phone from his jeans and reads the text from Gerard letting him know that he is indeed downstairs.
Frank makes him wait for five minutes as he does a last round of the apartment, attempting to restick the streamer and glaring at it viciously when it promptly falls again. His heart is beating painfully fast in his chest as he takes the stairs two at a time and then curses himself for having to live so high up.
He reaches the door that leads outside and takes a deep breath. Gerard is on the other side, and if Frank knows his boyfriend, he’s resting against the wall, cigarette between his lips and fiddling with the duffle bag strap over his shoulder.
Frank pulls open the door and smiles so wide at Gerard that it hurts his face. He was right. Gerard is leaning against the wall, smoke billowing out of his mouth in a way that should not be that attractive.
“Baby,” Gerard greets with a matching, wide smile.
He drops his cigarette and wraps Frank in a tight hug that takes the air from the smaller man’s lungs.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Gee,” Frank laughs into his neck and hugs him back just as tightly.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Frankie,” Gerard says back so sweetly. Frank’s heart flutters in his chest. Fuck, he loves him so much.
When they pull back from the hug, Frank looks him up and down, and fuck, he looks good. It's an outfit Frank had seen him in before: a white dress shirt under a dull multicoloured knit vest, black tie, blazer, jeans, Converse and sunglasses. Frank could eat the man alive right there on the sidewalk.
“Fuck, you look so good,” Frank moans a bit too inappropriately for a public space, making Gerard flush.
“Thank you, Frankie,” Gerard says sheepishly.
“Come on,” Frank says as he grabs Gerard by the wrists and pulls him inside the building.
“Eager are we?” Gerard laughs when Frank starts to bound up the stairs.
“With you looking like that? Of course.”
They reach Frank's apartment door, and he tugs on Gerard’s hand when the other goes to open it.
“Just tell me if it’s too much,” Frank says quietly, looking at his feet.
His anxiety comes back tenfold, gnawing violently at his stomach. Gerard shoots him a questioning look that Frank pretends not to see, and pushes open the door.
Gerard is frozen in the doorway, staring into Frank’s decorated living room. There’s no noise between them besides a breath the taller man lets out like he was punched in the stomach.
“It’s too much, isn’t it? Fuck, I can take down the streamers and-”
Frank is cut off when Gerard slams their mouths together. Frank makes a noise of surprise in the back of his throat and kisses him back, his hand coming up to gently card through his boyfriend’s fluffy hair.
“It's perfect, Frankie. So fucking perfect,” Gerard breaths into his mouth.
Frank laughs, all of the previous anxiety leached from his body by way of Gerard’s hands on him, on his face, on the small of his back.
“Are you sure? I wanted to make our first holiday together special, and I know I went overboard, but-”
“Sweetheart, it’s amazing. I fucking love you, Frank,” Gerard says, his face shocked and red like he hasn’t meant to say it.
“I love you too,” Frank says back confidently before Gerard can attempt to take it back or apologise.
The smile the other gives him is blinding, and he pulls Frank into the apartment by the hand on his back. The door is shut behind them, and Frank is backed up against it.
“I love you so much,” Gerard breathes before he connects their lips gently, both of them smiling into the kiss.
“Okay, enough, I have something to give you,” Frank says and pushes on Gerard’s shoulder.
“Funny, you say that. I have something to give you,” Gerard laughs as he lets Frank pull him over to the sofa.
“A present?” Frank asks enthusiastically, which makes Gerard laugh loudly.
“Well, it is Valentine’s Day,” Gerard says with a fond roll of his eyes as they both sit down.
He digs through the duffle bag he drops on the floor, and pulls out a black gift bag with little white skulls all over it.
“Okay, I’ll go first,” Frank says, his body almost vibrating with excitement. “It’s not much, but I think you’ll like it.”
He presents the black gift back to Gerard and watches as the other man digs through it. His eyes, wide and shocked, shoot up to Frank when he sees what’s hidden under the layer of tissue paper.
“Frank is this-”
“You’ve talked about it so much, and I wanted to be the one to get it for you,” Frank says with a shrug of his shoulders and very badly hides how happy he is that Gerard is borderline speechless.
The man’s fingers close in around the paper, and he pulls out a first-edition comic book. It’s one that Frank doesn’t even recognise the characters, but Gerard had talked about it so much that Frank had remembered the name and gone on a witch hunt across New Jersey and New York to get his hands on it. He’s a hopeless romantic at heart, sue him.
“Jesus fucking christ, Frank,” Gerard says. He’s frozen in place, the comic book grasped between shaking fingers.
“There’s something else in there, too,” Frank adds quietly when Gerard doesn’t move.
Gerard nods, placing the comic oh so gently on the sofa as if the cushions would ruin its market value, and digs his hand back in the bag. He pulls out a small black velvet box, and when he opens it, there’s a black guitar pick with a hole drilled in the top and a chain looped through it. The pick has a small symbol on one side, and on the other, there is a small letter F in white.
“I have a matching one with the letter G on it,” Frank says sheepishly. “I thought it’d be cute if we matched.”
“Frankie…” Gerard breathes, and Frank is suddenly nervous when he can’t discern the others' reaction.
“If it’s too much too soon, I get it. I mean, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything, but it’s-”
Frank is cut off again when Gerard lurches forward, pulling the smaller man into a tight hug. Frank laughs when Gerard starts muttering things under his breath.
“Gee, I can’t hear you.”
“I love you, baby. I love you so fucking much. I can’t believe it,” he says louder and pulls away from the hug to push Frank down on his back.
Gerard perches above him and slowly leans down to place his weight against Frank, connecting their lips tenderly. He loses time with the way Gerard’s lips glide over his, until Frank’s hips hitch and he is sorely reminded of the situation going on under his jeans.
“Can I have my present now?” Frank asks breathlessly when Gerard starts biting a line across his neck.
“Oh fuck, yeah, sorry,” Gerard laughs as he sits up and pulls Frank up with him. “Got sidetracked.”
He grabs the gift bag and hands it to Frank with a sly smile. “It’s got two parts. A present for Valentine’s Day, but also something we can use whenever we want.”
Frank gives him a questioning look and rolls his eyes when Gerard simply gestures towards the bag. Inside the gift bag is a new pedal that Frank has had his eye on for a very long time, one that he’d told Gerard about only once.
“You remembered,” Frank says softly.
Gerard nods, lips twitching in a smile. “Of course, I did. You had heart eyes, and with the way you gushed about it, I texted Ray to find out where I could buy it from.”
“You’re incredible,” Frank says and digs his hand back into the bag for the other items.
He pulls out a pack of his favourite branded strings for his guitar, and a small, stuffed dog plush that looks eerily like Lois.
The last gift Frank pulls out is a transparent silicone, squishy cylinder encased in hard plastic packaging. The cylinder has ridges and bumps inside, and on the outer side, it has an inverted dome for something to be attached to it.
“I don’t want to sound stupid, Gee, but what is it?” Frank asks and holds up the gift.
“Ah, you’ll need this,” Gerard says as he turns and digs in his duffel bag.
He pulls out a long, heavy box and places it in front of Frank, who immediately turns bright red when he sees the picture of a vibrator on the front of it. It’s one of those expensive white-and-blue ones that you plug into the wall.
“Dude, you got me a vibrator?” Frank asks incredulously, and so excited it makes him feel sick. “Okay, wait, I still don’t understand.”
“Correction, I got us a vibrator. It attaches to this part,” Gerard says as he points to the dome part of the toy Frank holds. “And then this part goes over your cock and makes the whole thing vibrate.”
Gerard is grinning at him wickedly as Frank takes in the information, looking back and forth between the cocksleave, the vibrator and Gerard.
“Oh, fuck,” Frank breathes, and feels his cock twitch against the lace panties in his jeans.
“Oh, fuck is right, baby,” Gerard almost growls. There is a dark and predatory look in his eyes that makes Frank feel exposed right down to the core. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, Frankie.”
“I’m uh…” Frank hesitates, feeling himself getting hard in his pants just from Gerard’s implications. “I’m wearing them right now.”
It takes Gerard a few seconds for him to catch on, but when he does, his eyes get impossibly darker, and they flicker down to Frank's crotch as if he could see them through his jeans.
“You’re such a good boy, for me, Frankie,” Gerard coos, with an edge of condescension, and the electric jolt that goes through Frank short-circuits his brain.
It should be embarrassing how easily those words get him pliant and willing for Gerard, but right now, he is anything but embarrassed.
“Go on then, let me see,” Gerard commands, an air of authority in his voice that has Frank moving on autopilot.
Gerard lounges back on the sofa, his legs splayed wide and arms resting over the back as he watches Frank move with intense eyes. He looks like a nerdy, hot mafia boss in his stupid little blazer. It does something to Frank that he doesn't want to voice out loud.
He stands and gets as far as taking his shirt off and popping the top button of his jeans before the nerves kick in and his hand hovers over the zip. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Gerard’s smile turns from wicked to soft.
“Are you nervous, Frankie?”
Frank gives a jerky nod, not trusting himself to get the words out.
“Do you want me to help?”
Frank nods his head again, breath hitching in his throat when Gerard’s knees hit the carpet and he shuffles forward until he kneels in front of Frank.
Gerard’s hands come up, resting one on Frank's hip, and the other on the teeth of the zip, running a single finger up and down the metal.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about, Frankie. You look beautiful,” Gerard breathes against his hip and places a kiss on the bird tattooed there. “Gonna take these off now, okay?”
“Okay,” Frank says quietly and swallows against the lump in his throat.
Gerard’s fingers are gentle as they pull down the zipper of his jeans, placing kisses on every inch of skin that reveals itself, and Frank watches as the first band of lace becomes visible. They both work to get the jeans down to his mid-thigh, and his breath seizes in his chest.
He can’t look down, can’t even look at Gerard’s face, while the man admires the lace. It’s too much.
“Fuck, there you are, my sweet girl,” Gerard moans lightly and fuck, Frank forgot about that part.
Gerard’s eyes are on him, watching his face for any signs of discomfort with the gendered endearment, but when all Frank does is moan, sweet and high in his throat, he leans forward and licks a hot stripe over his lace-covered cock.
“Fuck, Gee,” Frank groans, carding a shaky hand through Gerard’s soft hair.
The other man turns his head and rubs his cheek up against Frank’s cock, almost kitten-like in a way that should be funny, but Frank is not laughing. The action moves the lace across his dick, and Frank gasps, loud and bright at the feeling.
“I’m going to pick you apart until you’re crying,” Gerard mutters darkly as he continues to nuzzle Frank’s cock.
Gerard turns his head back and places a slow kiss on the outline of the head. It's wet and teasing in the best possible way.
Frank hisses out a breath, body lit up with stomach-clenching lust as Gerard's kisses turn slower, sloppier, wetter until he’s sucking Frank through the thin underwear.
The lace is darker over Frank's cock, shining with spit and precum.
“Gee, please?” Frank begs. He doesn't know what he's begging for, but he'll let Gerard decide just how he always does.
“My good girl always has such good manners,” Gerard coos.
“Gerard,” Frank whines pitifully.
He leaves a last kiss on Frank's cock, and stands, towering over the younger man in a way that makes him feel small and powerless, dissected by his gaze.
“Take everything off except the panties,” Gerard commands.
Frank rushes to comply, falling back on the sofa to rip off his shoes, socks, and the jeans around his thighs while Gerard watches him with predatory eyes. He stands back up and watches as Gerard collects the truly inappropriate presents. All the other man has to do is point and lift an eyebrow before Frank starts to walk towards his bedroom.
“Do you want the game plan, or do you want me to surprise you?” Gerard asks as he starts to unpackage the toys, tossing plastic off to the side.
Frank makes himself comfortable on the bed, pulling his knees up to keep himself semi-covered as he watches.
“Have you got a game plan?”
“I started planning the second I bought this,” Gerard says and points at the now unboxed vibrator.
He walks over to the power outlet and plugs in the long cord. Gerard turns the toy on, just to test, and the loud buzz sends a sick thrill through Frank.
“Oh my god,” Frank breathes and slams his eyes shut. “Surprise me. I want you to have full control.”
When he opens his eyes, Gerard is crawling up on the mattress. His hand lands on Frank’s knee and slowly pulls them apart until his legs are spread open so he can slot himself between them. “I already have full control, Frankie.”
“You’re fucking cocky. I could decide to be a brat,” Frank jokes with no intention behind his words.
“Oh, yeah?” Gerard breathes, a hint of warning in his voice. “Want me to slap you around a little bit?”
Frank hums for a second before he smiles widely. “I always want you to slap me around.”
“Slut,” Gerard accuses as he leans forward, a hairsbreadth between them.
“For you, yeah.”
Just as Gerard continues to lead forward, Frank leans back to make the other man chase him with a brattish smile. Gerard growls, and the hand on his knee is planted firmly on Frank’s chest, pushing him down until he’s flat on his back.
Their lips connect tenderly as Gerard settles over him, putting all of his weight against Frank to keep him pinned in place. The kiss is slow, just lips gliding over each other until the taller man angles his head and kisses him deeper, wetter and sucking Frank’s tongue into his mouth.
Relaxing against Gerard’s weight is an instinct for Frank. He lets himself be pinned, cradled between the other’s hands on his body and the soft dip of the bed as Gerard takes what he wants from him.
He’s panting, lips apart, and jaw dropping open as the other continues to kiss him like he doesn’t care that Frank is struggling for breath, kissing him until he has had enough.
“Gee,” Frank whines against Gerard’s mouth, breathless and so turned on it hurts. “I need to breathe.”
“No, you don’t,” Gerard growls, animalistic and dangerous, but still he moves to kiss and nip sharp teeth at the line of Frank’s jaw.
The taller man’s hand comes up to grip Frank’s chin roughly and wrenches his head to the side for better access to his neck. A whine rips itself out of his chest when Gerard bites at his pulse point with sharp canines. He’s going to be left with little red marks, and that has Frank’s hips hitching up in an attempt to get friction.
It was the wrong move, given how Gerard pulls back and uses his free hand to pin his lower body to the bed. “Stay still.”
“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one being bitten like a vampire’s dinner,” Frank snarks and yelps when Gerard pinches the skin of his stomach.
“Hands above your head,” Gerard commands with a smirk.
The restraints that slip around Frank's wrists feel like coming home, comforting and familiar. He's at Gerard's mercy, powerless and in his hands. It's warm ocean water lapping at his limbs.
Frank pulls at the restraints, testing for slack. He smiles wildly when he can move his limbs only a few inches before the straps pull taut and stop all movement.
“You look so beautiful like this,” Gerard says as he runs the tips of his fingers down Frank's arms and makes the smaller man puff out a breath when it tickles. “Completely helpless to what I'm going to do to you.”
“Fuck, Gee,” Frank gasps when a hand wraps around his throat, his thumb and forefinger pressing against the veins that line Frank's jugular.
The heady feeling is instant, a throb in his windpipe as oxygen is cut off. Gerard's eyes bore into his, lips twitching in a smile when Frank rasps in a struggling breath.
“Feels good, doesn't it?” he coos mockingly. Frank nods as much as he can as his body convulses against the need to breathe.
His fingers press tighter for a split second before Frank's arms pull at the restraints, and Gerard lets go to allow him to suck in a large mouthful of oxygen with a wrecked moan.
“See how much control I have over you? You're not even allowed to breathe unless I say so,” Gerard chuckles darkly.
“More, please,” Frank rasps as he angles his head back.
“Such a good girl for me,” Gerard whispers.
The hand closes around Frank's throat again, this time even tighter. He moans–Gerard's hand ghosting over his crotch, soft fingertips teasingly rubbing up and down the lace right across his dick.
Frank is gone, body tossed to the ocean and floating away, only tethered to land by Gerard's hands on him. Maybe he should be embarrassed by how hard and desperate he is just from some choking and light teasing. No one has even touched his dick yet, and he's half a second away from shooting into those stupid panties.
His lips fall open as he tries to suck in a futile breath, and Gerard lays a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. His hand is off Frank's neck, allowing him to breathe.
The taller man leans over to slide the bedside table drawer open and retrieves the lube. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby.”
“Yeah,” Frank breathes.
Frank watches in anticipation as Gerard grabs the vibrator. When he switches it on, the buzz sends a thrill through Frank, the other smiling wickedly at him.
He hovers the buzzing toy so close over Frank's crotch that he can almost feel it. The air between his cock and the toy is charged with static electricity, and when Gerard presses it down, directly on the covered head of Frank's cock, the smaller man feels it in every nerve ending.
Frank's breath gets caught in his chest as the vibrations rumble through his lower body. It's nothing like he's ever felt before; the buzz has his hips twitching as he moans loudly at the feeling.
Gerard tuts and pulls the toy away. “I said stay still, Frank.”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Frank whimpers, and nods his head so fast his vision spins.
He grits his teeth with the effort to stay still when the vibrator is lowered again, this time running up and down his shaft. It's almost too much, the sensation of the lace and the way the toy buzzes constantly.
“Fuck, oh my–fuck,” Frank pushes out between clenched teeth.
“Intense, isn't it, sweetheart? And this is the lowest setting,” Gerard chuckles darkly as he continues to run the toy up and down. “I wonder what would happen if I turned it up?”
Frank's mouth drops open to say…something. He doesn't know what he's going to say. Maybe beg him not to turn it up, plead with him to please turn it up. It's lost to him the moment Gerard's fingers hit the switch, and the vibrations get faster and deeper. Frank can feel it in his fucking pelvis.
“Fuck- Jesus fucking christ,” Frank half-shouts and pulls at the restraints around his wrists. “You motherfucker.”
Gerard tuts at him again and digs the vibrator right against the head of Frank's cock cruelly. “I'm doing something nice for you, Frankie. A thank you would be appreciated.”
He's having trouble getting his brain to work with the sensations burning through him, but he's still able to choke out a cracked thank you.
“Do you like how it feels on your clit, Frankie?” Gerard coos, and that word has a new slew of moans tearing their way out of Frank’s chest.
“It's so intense,” he moans back and wills his hips to stay planted on the bed.
“Imagine how it’ll feel when I take those slutty panties off you,” Gerard teases. “If you think it’s intense now, you’re gonna be screaming when I get that cocksleave on you.”
The one thing Frank loves more than life itself is when Gerard talks to him like this. Threats and promises of what he’s going to do to him, how powerless he is when Gerard has him like this. How simple, blunt words from the man can have him writhing and begging under him.
Like right now. “Please. I want to feel it. Want it to hurt.”
The vibrations stop, and Frank lets out a sigh of simultaneous relief and disappointment.
Gerard bends and slowly pulls the panties down, leaving kisses on Frank’s hips, his thighs, and his legs until he tosses the fabric off to the side.
Frank does lift his head to watch, but he knows Gerard is picking up the bottle of lube and connecting the vibrator to the dome attachment of the cocksleave. There’s a slick hand over his cock, and lube being spread down the shaft that makes him gasp out these little moans.
He does look when the squishy inside of the toy is slipped over his cock. The ridges and bumps inside it feel odd and like nothing he’s felt before, but it’s not bad.
“I’m going to turn it on for just a second so you can see how it feels,” Gerard says, his finger hovering over the switch on the vibrator.
He’s watching Frank face, and when the smaller man nods, he turns it on.
Frank jolts violently. The vibrations are no longer kept to a single point; instead, he can feel it along his entire cock. Gerard moves the vibrating cocksleave down his shaft, and then up over his cock head, the toy makes an obscene squalshing sound that makes Frank flush a bright, vivid red.
The pleasure is overwhelming and makes his hips twitch uncontrollably. It suddenly stops, all the pleasure being taken from him as Gerard’s free hand presses down on his thigh hard enough to bruise. “Frankie, I won’t fucking tell you again. Stop moving.”
“I can’t fucking help it, you prick,” Frank spits out and immediately regrets his words.
Gerard is up and over him in a second. The hand that lands across his cheek takes the air from his lungs, head snapping to the right. Frank blinks once, twice, then turns his head back.
“I shouldn’t have to remind you to use your manners,” Gerard warns, his fingers squishing Frank’s cheeks up against his teeth and using his grip to shake Frank’s head slightly. “Where’s my good girl, huh?”
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” Frank rushes. He’d say just about anything to get those vibrations around his cock back, and Gerard knows this.
“I don’t think you mean it, though, do you?” Gerard taunts and pouts in faux sympathy.
“Please, Gee. I’m so so fucking sorry. Please-”
The vibrations are back, encompassing Frank’s entire cock. He moans high in his throat, sweet and airy as Gerard lifts the vibrator and toy around the head of his cock, then back down, over and over again. All of his nerve endings lit up, burning and tossing Frank out to sea as he melts against the bed.
“There’s my good girl. So pretty for me when your head is empty,” Gerard coos at him.
Frank nods his head because yes, he is a good fucking girl, but it’s not enough for Gerard.
“Say it,” the taller man growls and turns the vibrator up. “Tell me you’re my good girl.”
Frank opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a high, broken moan. “Come on, Frankie. Tell me you’re my good girl, I know you can do it.”
He has to take multiple deep, heaving breaths before he can get his voice to work again.
“I’m your good girl,” Frank chokes out, his breath stuttering as the ridges of the toy catch on the head of his cock.
“That’s right, you are,” Gerard nods with an evil smile.
Gerard owns Frank. He controls every twitch, every movement, every breath. Everything Frank has to give, Gerard takes and cradles in his hands until it’s time to give it back to him tenfold, and makes him feel human again.
He pulls the cocksleave down until it’s covering just the base of Frank’s cock and uses the palm of his hand to rub over the leaking head of his cock. It’s too much, and it fucking hurts in the best way possible.
The effort to keep his hips pinned to the bed feels like hell. Frank’s thighs burn, and he can feel a cramp building up on his side, but the pleasure that thrums through him, pulsing in time with the vibrator, overpowers everything, including the cells that make him function.
It’s so overwhelming that Frank can feel tears building up in his eyes, the all too familiar hot coil tightening in his stomach. He needs to buck his hips, push his cock into the soft constraints of the toy, but the obedient part of his brain that Gerard has trained beats down the urge. He won't ruin this. He can't ruin this. If the pleasure disappears, he will be untethered, lost to the push and pull of water that threatens to swallow him.
There must be something in his eyes, a tell that he's close, because Gerard chuckles. The vibrator goes up another level, and Frank's legs go numb, besides a tingle that spreads across the backs of his thighs.
“Are you close, baby?” Gerard asks, voice tripping in sarcasm that burns Frank's skin.
His face is hot, red and aching where Gerard had slapped him. Frank revels in it, the pain, the attention, the mocking. It feels like a cruel caress that aims to rip him apart, and then put him back together with soft, artfully skilled hands.
“Fuck– yes, I'm so close,” he moans and digs his fingernails into the palm of his hand.
“Ask me,” Gerard commands, never slowing the pace of the toy around him.
“Please, fuck– please can I cum?” Frank whines so pitifully.
He thinks for a second that Gerard will have mercy on him and let him cum, but at this point, Frank should know better than that.
The coil of heat in his stomach starts to unfurl, a tightening of his stomach, and he's right fucking there. He can taste it, feel it in the way his eyes start to roll back and his hips twitch uncontrollably.
“Gee,” Frank rushes out, high-pitched and panicked because Gerard hasn't said anything. “Fuck, I'm goin-”
The vibrations stop, and Frank cries. Deep, heavy sobs wrack his chest, his breath stuttering as the heat in his stomach disappears and he's dragged back from the edge.
“No,” Gerard draws out. His voice sounds disinterested, but the way his eyes track the tears that slide down Frank's face like a hawk betrays him. “I don't feel like letting you cum yet.”
“Fuck,” Frank sobs.
He feels heavy, a lead weight over his body, sinking him to the ocean floor. He could beg, plead, offer Gerard anything he wants, fuck, he knows Gerard wants him to bargain, but it's no use. The other will only give him what he wants to offer. He still tries, though.
“Please? God– fuck, please let me cum?” Frank begs through sobs, more heavy tears rolling down his cheeks.
Instead of replying, Gerard leans over him to stare down at his face with a sadistic smile. A whimper pushes its way out of Frank's chest when he feels a soft, warm tongue lapping up the tears from his face.
“You're so pretty when you cry for me, sweet girl,” Gerard coos at him softly, hot breath hitting Frank's face.
It's fucking humiliating and so good, it makes Frank cry more, blinking against the tears clouding his vision and making them fall in fat drops.
One of Gerard's hands caresses his chest in slow, tender strokes across his ribs, his stomach and then back up to trace the let love in tattoo at the base of his throat. It's so loving, so filled with admiration that it has Frank pulling in a stabilising breath.
He doesn't beg again; he just breathes and blinks through the mist.
“Thank you,” he sighs contentedly, lips stretching into a smile at the other man.
“You're so welcome, Frankie,” Gerard replies and brushes his lips over Frank's with so much tenderness he starts to feel himself float.
Frank cranes his neck to bump their foreheads together, and smiles when he feels the other kiss the tip of his nose. “Let's go again, yeah?”
“Depends, do I get to cum this time?” Frank jokes as he wiggles in his restraints.
He can feel the bruises forming around his wrists, the ache in his neck where Gerard's hand had been pressed, and he smiles to himself, knowing he's going to stand in the mirror later and prod at the marks.
Gerard smiles back at him and hums. “Maybe.”
“You're a mean, mean man,” Frank groans.
“Yeah, but I think you enjoy it when I'm mean to you, baby,” Gerard laughs, darkly and somehow still dorky. He lifts himself off Frank's body, perching back between the smaller man's spread legs.
“Maybe,” Frank smirks.
The softness of Gerard's eyes disappears into something darker, something dangerous.
His fingers hit the switch, and the vibrations are back. Frank back arches before he can stop the twitch, and he looks at Gerard with wide, apologetic eyes.
“Fuck, I'm so sorry,” he says between moans.
“That's your last strike,” Gerard grins and moves the toy up and down Frank's cock so slowly it makes the smaller man's eyes water all over again.
“Faster, please,” Frank moans and reminds himself to keep his hips pinned.
Gerard smirks at him, and Frank knows immediately what he's going to do. “Oh, faster? Okay.”
The vibrations go up another level, and Frank screams behind gritted teeth. That is not what he meant. Before he can stop himself, Frank brings a leg up and kicks Gerard in the thigh.
An open palm is brought down on his cheek instantly with a crack and sends Frank's head snapping to the left. He moans, because of course. His face is hot, aching as the pain blooms into pleasure at the abused site.
“You know,” Gerard quips, continuing with the too fast pace of the vibrations, and far too slow movement of the sleeve up and down Frank's cock. “I should probably stop slapping you as a punishment; you like it too much.”
“No, no, please,” Frank whines as he rubs his stinging cheek into the soft sheets.
Gerard's words sound worse than hell to Frank. He needs it, needs the pain, needs the release it brings, even if it's brought on as an atonement for his bad behaviour.
“No what, baby?”
“Please hit me, please faster. Fuck– just please, please.” Frank’s voice goes up an octave as he begs, humiliated and so tense it burns his contracting muscles.
“You even sound like a girl,” Gerard laughs, and it's mean, the sound craving Frank to the core.
“I'm not a girl,” he mumbles with a sly, goading smile, which only widens when Gerard's eyes turn predatory.
Frank, a long time ago, realised that one of the best parts of his submission to Gerard was testing how much he could push back against the others' words–see how much he can goad the other man into cruelty. He needs to be mocked, needs the caress only perversion can give him. Frank isn't ashamed to admit that it gets him off, the humiliation and control he hands over to Gerard when he has Frank like this.
The other man tuts and lets out a sarcastic laugh. He sees right through Frank; sees exactly what he wants. “Oh, no, you're definitely a girl, Frankie. You've even got a pretty little clit, just like a girl. I bet it's so sensitive.”
The taller man ducks his head and, none too gently, sucks the exposed head of Frank's cock into his mouth. It's another subset of cruel how Gerard expects him to stay still with all the stimulation, but by God, Frank is trying.
His moans don't register to his own ears. All the blood in his body is rushing in his veins, and Frank can feel every drop of it as Gerard slowly sucks at the head of his dick. The tongue around him is reverent, slow and wet, and Frank's stomach muscles clench when the coil starts to burn at him; brazen, flesh-bubbling pleasure he can feel in every limb.
“Gee, I'm going to cum,” Frank gasps out, his stomach flexing almost painfully.
“Did I say you could cum?” Gerard asks, condescension in his tone.
“No,” he whines pathetically and blinks against the ache that has taken over his entire body.
“No,” Gerard repeats, agreeing. “Be a good girl and hold off for me.” The vibrations don't stop, and the other doesn't stop moving the toy. In fact, his pace speeds up incrementally.
“Gee– no, fuck, I can't– I can't. Please,” Frank begs.
He's on the verge, ready to fall off at any given second as the slick toy vibrates around him, up and down, controlled by Gerard's unrelenting hand.
Gerard hums, the evil smirk that never left his face starting to grow even wider. “Convince me.”
Frank grits his teeth and breathes deeply, the urge to simultaneously cum and kick Gerard fighting their way to the surface.
“Please, Gerard,” Frank begs–teary, wide and panicked eyes blinking up at the other man. “I'm your good girl, your perfect girl. I can't fucking hold it, please, please.”
The power to get the words out, pushing past struggle to keep himself somewhat composed and the fog that's taken his brain hostage, doesn't go unnoticed. “Cum for me, Frankie.”
All of the vibrations are moved up and kept over the sensitive head of his cock, all the nerve endings set alight as Gerard flicks his wrists in aborted movements, essentially pulsing the head of Frank's cock with the cocksleave.
His orgasm is dragged out of him, and fuck, it's so good. Frank screams behind clenched teeth and tugs at his restraints. He's overcome with it, hips rolling up of their own accord, and Gerard is merciful enough to allow him this without pinning him down. It's violent and borderline painful as he shoots heavily across his stomach–sharp, sweet, overwhelming, fucking awful, so fucking good and–it doesn't stop.
It doesn't fucking stop.
There is no post orgasm glow, no satisfaction that makes him feel content and tingly all over. It just hurts. He's burning up, he's sure of it, his back sticks to the sheets with the rapid cycle of overheating, cooling off, then overheating again.
The oversensitivity is blinding, immediate and painful. Frank whimpers loudly as he attempts to curl in on himself, but there is a heavy hand on his hip keeping him pinned with enough pressure to hurt. Gerard turns the vibrations down, though he doesn't stop the pacing of the toy over Frank's cock.
“It hurts, it hurts. Fuck–it's too much,” Frank cries out between sobbing breaths and uselessly pulls at the restraints again.
“I'm just giving you what you wanted, baby. You said you wanted to cum, right?” Gerard taunts him with a laugh that reverberates off Frank's fragile psyche like stone through glass.
He's already soft, but Gerard toying with him has Frank's cock twitching, miserable and sad, where it's held captive in the silicone contraption. It's awful, so fucking awful and so good it sends an ache through him he can’t even describe.
“I just came, please,” Frank cries out.
“And you're going to cum again. You're going to cum as many times as I tell you to,” Gerard commands.
The other man's eyes are black, blown pupils swallowing up honey brown as he works Frank like a puppet for his own amusement. Joy and power are clear on Gerard’s face when the smaller man starts to harden up, continuing to run the toy up and down in drawn-out strokes.
Frank breathes through the pain, constantly reminding himself to keep his hips pinned, to take whatever Gerard wants to give him because he is fucking thankful and he’s good.
“How many more are you going to drag out of me?” Frank attempts to ask between pained moans, but it comes out as stuttered, clipped words. Gerard understands him, though, he always does.
Gerard hums, even going as far as to tap his chin in thought because he’s a preformative asshole who likes to torture Frank. “How many more do you think you have in you?”
Frank’s brain is not working well enough to figure that out. His brain isn’t working at all, actually.
“I don’t know. I don’t know,” he groans. Pleasure has started to rip through the ribbons of pain, and it takes everything in him not to thrust up into the cocksleave vibrating around him. “One, maybe two. I don’t know.”
“Well, we’re going to find out, aren’t we?” Those words send a sick lurch through Frank’s stomach and, horrifically, make his cock twitch. Gerard knows how to work him, how to control every emotion and fear.
“Gee, please,” Frank whines, begging for… he does know. Maybe for it to stop. Maybe for Gerard to keep going. For Gerard to gut him and leave him lying in the remnants of slaughter. He doesn't fucking know.
“What's your colour, please, baby?” Gerard asks softly, all of the dominance leached from his voice for a moment.
Frank takes a moment to assess himself through the stimulation, just like Gerard taught him. He’s sore, tired and wrung fucking dry, but he feels so good, goddamn perfect even. Gerard’s hands on him, the cruelty that carves him and leaves him bleeding out is a thing of beauty; he never wants it to stop. Frank will take whatever Gerard wants to give him and then some.
“Green, so green,” Frank moans airily, his own voice a thousand miles below from the cloud his body floats on.
“Good girl.” Gerard’s smile turns dark again as he turns the vibrations on the toy up another level. “You’re always so good for me, Frankie.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Frank half screams behind his teeth and tosses his head against the pillow. “It's so fucking much.”
“Yeah, and you're going to fucking take it, Frankie,” Gerard assured.
There's a cold feeling over the exposed head of his cock, and when Frank cranes his head, he watches a long string of saliva connect with the tip of his dick.
The pacing of the toy around him speeds up and brings him devastatingly closer to the edge all over again. It's too soon, the undercurrent of pain still threatening his system. He lets out a moan because, despite the sharp, overstimulating pain, pleasure overwrites the very fabric of his being.
“Feeling good already, sweetheart?” Gerard asks.
Frank can't place his tone with the blood rushing in his ears. Gerard might be mocking him. He might be genuinely curious. All Frank knows is to nod his head and let whatever sounds escape his mouth because, yes, it feels good.
His body melts back into the mattress; limbs no longer twitch or attempt to pull away from the stimulation, just his eyes sliding shut and floating away on the feeling. Gerard hums approvingly at him. “That's right, Frankie, just feel it. Good girl, just feel all of it for me.”
More praise and words of humiliation are spoken to him, but Frank's brain simply doesn't take it in as his second orgasm races to the surface. This one comes from the depths of his chest, Gerard's artfully skilled fingers clawing at it and dragging it from him violently.
Frank's eyes open in panic as the backs of his thighs start to tingle, and Gerard knows. He must see it in the way the smaller man's eyes are glazed, chest heaving with stuttered breaths–the orgasm pulling tightly at all his limbs.
“You can cum, pretty girl. You don't need to ask this time.”
The gutted, pained and broken sound that leaves Frank's chest rattles his head and bounces off the walls of his bedroom as he cums for the second, and he prays, the last time. He shoots hard and heavy onto his stomach, mixing with his sweat and dried cum from his last orgasm in a way that makes him feel dirty and so fucking obscene.
“Oh my fucking god,” Frank cries out, his hips rolling up and fucking into the toy as he rides out his orgasm.
“Such a good girl, that's it, baby,” Gerard encourages and strokes his hand down Frank’s flexing thigh soothingly. “So beautiful, Frankie.”
It takes less than a second for the pleasure to turn back into painful overstimulation and makes Frank cry out and thrash in the restraints.
“Please, please. I can't cum again,” he whines, twitching against Gerard's hand on him.
“Okay, okay, Frankie,” Gerard soothes. “I won't make you cum again, it's okay.”
The harsh vibrations around him stop, and Frank lets out a loud sigh of relief as the post orgasm glow hits him.
His legs twitch as the slick toy is pulled up and then off his cock with a squelching sound that makes Frank huff out a small, tired laugh. “Thank you.”
“Oh, you're so welcome, sweetheart,” Gerard breathes with a smile as he crawls over the smaller man and lies all his weight against him, chest to chest.
The weight is a comfort, a tether that keeps Frank’s head above water, body floating atop an ocean that threatens to pull him under.
Gerard kisses his face, his lips, the curve of his nose as his heart starts to slow, limbs melting back into the restraints. The come down is one of the things Frank looks forward to the most. Feeling Gerard's hand on him, the comfort of reassuring words telling him he did so well. It's like coming home.
“I'm good,” Frank says after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “I want to continue.”
“Are you sure? We can just cuddle, we don't have to do anything more,” Gerard assures him, but the wicked smile is already pulling at the corners of his lips.
“I'm so sure. I want you to use me,” he says back, biting his lip and rolling his head back in, what he hopes is an enticing invitation.
Gerard perches up above him, hands on the pillow on either side of Frank's head. “Such a whore, always wanting more, huh?”
The other man's hands work at his belt, the clink of metal like a Pavlovian response to Frank and his mouth immediately falls open as he nods his head.
“I should take a picture of you just like this,” Gerard laughs as he pulls himself out of the front of his boxers and strokes himself over Frank's face. “You're so needy, dragged two orgasms out of you, but you're just dying to get my dick down your throat, aren't you?”
Frank nods, his eyes fixated on the moment of Gerard's hand over his cock, the tip red and mouthwatering.
“Use your words, Frankie,” Gerard commands.
Frank swallows down saliva and groans as his spent cock twitches against his thigh. “Yes, please, want you to fuck my throat.”
“Fucking greedy,” Gerard growls and sinks his weight against Frank's chest. “Go on then.”
Frank cranes his neck, mouth open as he tries and fails to get Gerard's cock in his mouth, the other man mockingly laughs at his efforts, even going so far as to lean further back away from Frank.
“I thought you said you wanted my cock? You're not trying very hard,” he taunts and makes Frank whine high in his throat like a wounded animal.
“Gee,” Frank whines, still craning his head and trying to lick at Gerard. “Gee, please, please.”
He’s weak and tired, fucking spent, but he needs this. He needs Gerard down his throat and making his eyes water more than he needs basic functions like breathing or thinking.
“Please what, Frankie?”
“I want to suck you, please,” Frank groans and just barely stops himself from stomping his foot against the bed like a petulant child.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Gerard grins and leans forward so his cock rests against Frank’s lips. “Suck.”
Frank doesn’t need to be told twice. He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip and tastes salty precum as he licks at the head of Gerard’s cock, sucking it into his mouth with a delighted moan. The man above him hums approvingly, shallowly thrusting his hips forward in slow movements.
“Such a good girl, Frankie,” Gerard sighs as he stares down at Frank’s pink, stretched-out mouth around his dick. “So pretty taking my cock.”
Gerard slowly leans this weight forward, pushing his cock deeper into Frank's mouth, and the smaller man relaxes his throat to accommodate the length, taking deep breaths in through his nose until it’s pressed against the denim of the other’s jeans. His throat spasms, and a loud gag rips itself from the depths of his chest, but Gerard doesn’t pull back until tears are leaking down the sides of Frank’s face.
“Deep breath, baby. I’m going to fuck your throat,” Gerard instructs, the soft tone of his voice and obscene words have Frank’s head whirling. “If you need me to stop, knock against the wall twice, okay?”
“Okay,” Frank replies, his voice already ruined.
“Good girl.”
Gerard roughly pushes back in after Frank takes a few deep breaths. It's shallow at first, and Frank swirls his tongue around the tip, feeling his spit collecting at the side of his mouth as Gerard moans deeply.
The second his thrusts start to speed up, the smaller man's eyes roll into the back of his head, the tip of Gerard's cock hits the back of his throat brutally, and he gags heavily. Frank flattens his tongue, using it to slide against the vein on the underside of the other's cock.
Obscene and pornographic sounds fill the room, gagging and Gerard’s moans have him moaning back just as loud around the length in his mouth. It’s Frank's version of heaven; his hands tied and letting Gerard use his throat to get off.
“Such a fucking disgusting pervert, letting me use you like this,” Gerard says between moans. “You should have some respect for yourself, Frankie.”
It should hurt. It should make him upset. It should make him angry, but Frank gags on a moan at the words, hips bucking up as his cock starts to harden again. It’s fucking glorious. Gerard laughs at him as he shoves himself down Frank’s throat and stills until the smaller man’s chest convulses for air, and he pulls back.
“You liked that, huh?” Gerard asks rhetorically, his voice becoming more breathless in a way that makes Frank want to smirk to himself. “You like it when I remind you of the fact that you’re just a whore for me to use? A toy for my pleasure?”
Fuck yes. In fact, Frank loves it. He makes that known when Gerard pushes into his throat again, and he swallows around him. Frank is right where he belongs; they both know it.
“Of course you like it, sweetheart,” Gerard laughs, breathy and tight as he continues to abuse Frank’s throat. “Just a brainless little toy. No thoughts, no concerns, just a thing that wants cock.”
Gerard’s close; his hips start to stutter, and the rhythm becomes jerky. Frank stops the movement of his tongue on the underside in an attempt to draw it out, but Gerard’s hand fists into the hair at the crown of his head and starts to drag him back and forth on his cock, his neck straining with the effort.
“I’m going to cum down your throat, and you’re going to swallow like a good girl,” Gerard commands, and Frank's eyes once again roll to the back of his head.
He can't respond, but fuck, he wants to. Gerard just laughs at the pleading eyes he looks up at him with. They both know he's going to swallow because Frank would never disobey an order like that, and with the way Gerard is all the way down his throat, he quite literally couldn’t even if he tried.
Gerard pulls the smaller man's head back and forth by the hair before he stills deep in Frank's throat, rocking his hips slightly in the tight constraints. A loud moan pulled deep from Gerard's chest reverberates around the room as he cums, hot and heavy, down Frank's throat.
The smaller man swallows, once, twice, before Gerard’s hand in his hair turns soft and he pulls out of Frank's mouth with a content hum. He makes quick work of the restraints around Frank’s wrists, unfastening them and pulling his arms down and around himself as he lies down ontop of the smaller man.
“So, did you like your presents?” Frank asks sheepishly after a few moments of silence as they both catch their breath.
“I love them, Frankie. I love you,” Gerard says softly and shifts his weight so he's no longer lying on top of Frank but beside him. He pulls the smaller man over with a little manhandling so that Frank is curled up with his head on Gerard’s chest.
“The…panties didn’t weird you out or like, I don't know, make you less attracted to me?”
Gerard cards a soft hand through Frank’s hair and gently uses it to tip his head up, making him look at the taller man. Frank can feel how red his face is, and he immediately averts his eyes, embarrassed and ashamed that he so badly needs the affirmation.
“Baby, I think you looked so beautiful, a work of fucking art,” Gerard says so softly, with so much truth in his voice that Frank can’t help but believe him. “I want to draw you with them on, help you see yourself how I see you.”
Frank chuckles and digs his forehead into Gerard’s chest. “Okay, I believe you, but absolutely not.”
“Aw, come on,” Gerard, honest to God, whines. “I could get you to pose all pretty for me while I sketch you.”
“Do you have a titanic fantasy you haven’t told me about or something?” Frank jokes and yelps when Gerard playfully pinches the skin on his outer thigh.
“I’m serious. I want to draw you,” Gerard says, not even a hint of joking in his voice.
“Use the vibrator again, and I’ll consider it.”
“Deal,” Gerard smiles. “Happy Valentine's Day, baby.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Gee. I love you.”