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It isn’t really a surprise that the first time Gerard takes a shower in three weeks, he walks out of the hotel bathroom to see Frank fully-clothed on Gerard’s bed and humping one of Gerard’s pillows.
Obviously, they’re both perfectly aware that what he’s doing is against Gerard’s rules. Hell, Frank had been the one to ask for the rule, squirming in Gerard’s lap and whispering in his ear, “I don’t wanna come unless you let me.” Gerard had heard about it before, conceptually, but that didn’t prepare him at all for the rush of arousal that left him dizzy.
He knows Frank would laugh about it and say it’s because Gerard is a control freak, but that doesn’t seem quite right. He wishes he capture what Frank looks like when he gives up control, pink and sweaty and limp as a ragdoll. Maybe then Frank would understand that it isn’t just about having control for Gerard—it’s about taking control from Frank specifically. It’s about the wide-eyed adoration that follows, the way even the simplest of touches will make Frank gasp and whimper.
The fact that he’s pretty when he cries is just a bonus.
Of course, part of the problem with trying to impose rules on Frank (even ones he literally asked for) is the issue of punishment. Spanking is a reward, if anything, and the same goes for full-body bondage, edging, humiliation, sensory deprivation, any kind of impact or pain play. Even making him take care of Gerard’s chores doesn’t work because the freak does laundry for fun—says it calms him to fold clothes.
And people say Gerard is crazy.
So, when Gerard walks out of the bathroom, already dressed in mostly-clean pajama pants and a faded Iron Maiden t-shirt, the groan of frustration he lets out is very real.
“Fuck’s sake, Frankie, you couldn’t wait ten goddamn minutes until I finished showering?”
“Nope.” Frank’s voice hitches as he grinds down on the pillow between his thighs, but there’s a shit-eating grin splitting his face. “Guess you’ll have to do something about it, won’t you?”
In hindsight, Gerard should’ve anticipated this. Frank sees hotel nights as an opportunity to really get a rise out of Gerard and prompt the kinds of punishments that are hard to pull off when you live on a bus. But Jesus, is it so much to ask for a simple handy, maybe some sixty-nining, and then a full night’s sleep?
Apparently yes, with Frank.
“What am I gonna do with you?” Gerard means for his tone to come out admonishing, but even he can hear the embarrassing fondness in his voice.
Frank tosses the pillow up toward the head of the bed and falls to his hands and knees. With a wiggle of his hips and a knowing look over his shoulder, he asks, “I don’t know, what are you gonna do with me?”
Gerard fights down a laugh and crawls onto the bed behind him. “That’s why I fuckin’ asked in the first place. How am I supposed to punish you when you’re a slut for every punishment I come up with?” He reaches down between Frank’s thighs, cups his junk from behind, and gives it a harsh squeeze. Frank hiccups and jerks away, then pushes back into it. “See what I mean? Who the fuck even likes that? I bet I could slap your balls and you’d still get off on it.”
Frank lets his chest fall to the bed and rubs his face against the blankets. “Mmmfuck, please.”
“Jesus Christ.” Gerard really does give him a little slap, because he’s a generous lover like that, then pulls back. “So, pain is out.”
Frank looks back over his shoulder with a pout. “Does it have to be?”
“It’s a punishment.” Gerard shakes his head. “I’ve got half a mind to just use your ass to get off, but you’d still like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, if it’s the only option,” Frank says into the mattress, muffled but cheerful for a man who just got his nuts smacked around.
“It’s not,” Gerard says firmly. “I’m just…brainstorming.”
“Brainstorm a little harder, then.”
“Oh, fuck you. And don’t say, ‘I wish you would.’”
“You’re no fun.”
“Maybe that’s what I’ll do,” Gerard muses. “I’ll just fuck you all boring and vanilla. Missionary, under the blankets, turn the light out.”
Frank rolls over onto his back and wraps his legs around Gerard’s hips, trying to tug him down. He looks almost sweet, especially considering how mouthy he’s been. “That’s not a punishment, either. But I wouldn’t say no.”
And yeah, no matter how much of a brat Frank has been, Gerard can’t stop himself from leaning down and dropping a kiss to his forehead. How can one person be so disgusting and so wholesome at the same time?
Frank hums happily and arches up beneath him, tilting his face to get a kiss on the lips instead. When Gerard just kisses the tip of his nose instead, Frank makes a tiny, frustrated noise and tries to grab at Gerard’s hair to guide him where he wants him.
Well. There’s an idea.
“You know what? Maybe we can try a new kind of punishment tonight.” The gears in Gerard’s head are turning so frantically he can barely hear Frank’s curious little what? “Since all I have to do is touch you for you to get off, I just…won’t touch you. Not where you want it, anyway.”
Frank narrows his eyes, but Gerard can see the tense current of anticipation running through his body. “What, are you gonna fuck me without touching my dick or something?”
“Yeah, right.” Gerard snorts. He reaches over to the nightstand where Frank had unsubtly placed the lube while Gerard was in the shower. “We both know you can still come from that. I was thinking something a little more like this.”
Gerard has always loved how bendy Frank is. Between his flexibility and his short stature, it’s easy to fold him in half, get his knees up around his ears and cover his entire body while Gerard pounds down into him. It serves him well now as he straightens Frank’s legs out and places them both over his right shoulder. “Can you cross your ankles a little? Like, squeeze your legs together.”
He can tell the moment Frank realizes what he’s planning. His eyes go wide and he bites his lip, then does as Gerard tells him to. “Should I—?”
“You should stay put and let me fuck your thighs.” Gerard shoves his pajama pants down and uses a pump of lube to wet his cock. Hell, even if this doesn’t work out, his own hand feels so good after weeks on the bus that he might just jerk off onto Frank’s face and call it a night. “C’mere.”
With a little shuffling, he gets his knees around Frank’s hips and his dick between Frank’s thighs, so close to sliding their cocks together but not quite. Frank always runs hot, and the insides of his thighs are softer than any other part of him. They’re pale and delicate, the hair there slightly thinner before it grows dark and thick around his cock. The contrast with Gerard’s cock, dark and wet, pushing between them makes him hiss in a breath through his teeth.
“Aw, fuck, Frankie,” he breathes. “That’s real pretty.”
Frank, for once, is stunned speechless—mostly. He manages a strained, “What the fuck?”
Gerard shushes him and pushes his legs further back, pulling a gasp out of him. “Be good and lemme fuck you, okay?” He doesn’t wait for a response before drawing back and fucking forward again. “Shit.”
It’s a little too dry still, so the drag against the sensitive skin of his dick sends too-sharp pleasure zinging up Gerard’s spine. After weeks of dry humping in bunks and interrupted blowjobs in green rooms, even too much feels perfect. He thrusts again, starting up a rhythm that jolts Frank’s body every time Gerard’s hips meet the backs of his thighs. It doesn’t feel quite like fucking his ass—all tight and wet and hot—but the visual of Frank laid out for him hits just as hard as it usually does.
Frank’s lower lip is caught between his teeth and his eyes are transfixed on the head of Gerard’s cock working between the plush press of his thighs. No matter how much he works out or slims down, Frank always has a delicious give to his body that makes Gerard want to sink his teeth into him. Now, as he squeezes Frank’s legs tighter together, he’s more grateful than ever for that inviting softness.
Gerard scrabbles for the lube and pumps it haphazardly between Frank’s thighs, sliding his cock through the mess and making the glide all wet and smooth. He groans and presses a kiss to Frank’s calf. “Fuck, you feel good, honey.”
Frank lets out a tiny whine and clenches his fists in the blankets. He knows better than to try to touch himself—that right belongs to Gerard alone—but his cock lies plump and red against his hip, begging for attention.
Gerard pants out a breathless laugh. “Jesus, you’re so desperate and I haven’t even touched you. And I’m not going to.” He picks up his pace, hitting his stride where each thrust drags just right and adds to the mounting pressure of pleasure. “Fuck, maybe I won’t touch you ever again. Just fuck you like this, use your thighs and watch you whine for it.”
“Jesus,” Frank hisses. His hands fly up from the blankets to his own hair, tangling and pulling there in an effort to resist touching himself. “What the fuck, what the fuck—”
“Yeah, I think I like that idea.” Gerard lets the fantasy fog over his mind, layering on top of the sweet slick squeeze of Frank’s thighs. “Get myself off, come all over you while you aren’t even allowed to touch.” An image hits him out of the blue and Frank’s legs are the only thing keeping him from doubling over. “Get you one of those—those cages, lock you up so you can’t touch your dick at all, can’t even get off humping everything like a dog—”
Frank chokes out a moan and arches off the mattress just as Gerard shoves forward and comes with a pained groan. He thrusts through it, watching as sticky, translucent white shoots over Frank and paints his flushed cock, his dark ink, the rough trail of hair below his navel. After so long without the time or space to get off like this, he almost wonders if the sight of Frank covered in him might get him up for another round.
But as soon as the last wave of his orgasm passes, it’s all Gerard can do not to collapse right on top of Frank. “Fuckin’ hell.” He topples to the side and rolls onto his back with a groan. “Didn’t expect it to feel that good. I’m gonna sleep like a fuckin’ rock tonight.” At a strangled noise from Frank, Gerard cracks an eye open to survey the damage.
He’d gone a little ham with the lube, so Frank is shining wet from mid-thigh to his hips—and that’s not even mentioning the splatter of Gerard’s come over his still-hard cock. There are a couple streaks over the swallows on his hips and Gerard can see how tense Frank is holding himself so it won’t run off the sides onto the blankets.
Gerard hums thoughtfully. “Damn, Frankie. You should shower.”
Frank is clearly still far enough gone that he can’t do much more than pout, like his puppy dog eyes will convince Gerard to let Frank get off against his thigh or something. On another day, he probably would. But right now? Gerard is riding the high of finally, finally finding a punishment for Frank that actually functions as a punishment rather than a treat.
“Did you need something?” Gerard asks, voice slow and lazy from orgasm. “Oh, silly me. Here.” He leans over Frank’s body, biting his lip so he doesn’t laugh at the hitch in Frank’s breath, and grabs a few tissues from the box on the nightstand. He tosses them carelessly on Frank’s chest and collapses back down on the bed. “Don’t wanna make a mess before you even stand up.”
By the time Frank’s swiped up the most precarious drips of jizz and stood from the bed, Gerard is already half asleep. It’s incredible what a good orgasm will do for insomnia. Frank’s footsteps stomp toward the bathroom like a tantruming toddler—and that’s the room below’s problem, not his—Gerard rouses himself just enough to say, “And Frankie?”
He gets an impatient grunt in reply. It takes everything in him not to giggle. “Don’t forget—you can’t get off without me.”
There’s a beat of silence, then a tiny whimper and the slam of the bathroom door.