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It’s two in the afternoon on a lovely, sunny July Sunday, and Gerard is dying. He is splayed on the mattress in their shared NYC loft apartment, wearing absolutely no clothes whatsoever, he kicked off the covers a long time ago, and he’s still boiling alive. He loves this place with his entire heart, but the thing about this Flatiron District office converted into a loft apartment is that it never got equipped with air conditioning. Opening the windows hardly helps, only providing a smell of exhaust fumes, some Korean barbecue from the restaurant downstairs, and heat, and the fans they have are evenly distributed across the open space to make it at least a little better. Gerard has debated stealing one specifically for himself, but he feels bad about it. Frank usually wears multiple layers of clothes, and even he has stripped down to boxers and a t-shirt and moved his armchair away from the sun, plucking the strings of his guitar lazily in the darkest corner of the loft.
Gerard groans weakly, throwing an arm over his eyes to block the sun reflecting off the windows of the building across the street, then immediately drops it back against the bed when he realizes he cannot have parts of his body touching. It’s too hot.
“Fraaaaank,” he whines. The guitar sounds don’t even falter, and when he cracks an eye open to look at him, he finds Frank fully focused on playing. “Fraaaank!”
“Whaaat?” Frank mocks him without looking up. He smiles, though, and his fingers start moving over the strings a little softer so he can hear him better.
“I’m dying.”
“You’re just hot,” Frank shakes his head. “You aren’t dying.”
“You don’t know that. Heat strokes can be deadly.”
“And you can be a pain in the ass, and yet I’m still here, aren’t I?” this time, he does look up and grins when Gerard scoffs. “Seriously, what do you want me to do? Blow on you?”
“You could try.”
“Blowing on you would end up with blowing you, and that wouldn’t help you cool down. You can always go take a cold shower.”
“I did that an hour ago,” Gerard groans. He turns onto his side so he can see Frank better and puts on his best puppy face, pouting. “Besides, I’d have to move for that. What do I have a boyfriend for if not to help me cool down without having to move from the bed?”
Frank puts the guitar down, running a hand down his face. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and the scruff has now turned into full-blown facial hair, which in any other circumstances would make Gerard whimper. He’s too hot to get turned on, though, so he just appreciates it from afar when Frank gets up and stretches. He doesn’t seem like he has any plans to actually come over and blow on him, but Gerard decides to get ready anyway. He flops back onto his back with as much of a dramatic sigh as he can muster, hoping it’ll help. Frank has to have at least a bit of compassion, right? He won’t just let him boil alive?
But clearly, he will because he bypasses the bed and moves further into the apartment. Gerard, quite frankly, can’t fucking believe this. He has to move again to sit up, leaning on his elbows to see Frank rummaging through their kitchen area cupboards, and he feels himself frowning more and more the longer it takes. He’s not a very patient man, however, so it takes Frank opening a third cupboard in clear search of something before he breaks.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to find that popcorn bowl we have.”
“You are not making popcorn,” Gerard falls back onto the bed with a groan. “For fucks sake, Frank, I will actually die here. Have you not been listening to any of my lyrics? But does anyone notice–”
“I know, I know. Just trust me, alright? I’m working on it, Jesus!”
“Not fast enough.”
“For your fucking information,” Frank says, standing up with the bowl in hands. “I’m not exactly freezing over here, either. I am doing something, so if you aren’t going to help, then just lie there and look pretty, princess, and let me work.”
“You can be really bitchy sometimes, did you know that?” Gerard sighs. He closes his eyes again and tells himself that he will not let the heat take him. He will do as Frank said, just lie there and pray for the evening to come faster. Frank is making a lot of noise in the kitchen, though, doing whatever it is he’s doing, so Gerard can’t even sleep through this nightmare. Not that he could, even if Frank was quiet. Even his feet feel like they will fall off at any given moment.
“I learned from the best,” Frank laughs after a moment. There is a racket then, something heavy hitting the metal of the bowl. Gerard’s first thought is - M&M's, and that would be a great way to appease him - but then he remembers that they ran out yesterday during their movie marathon. Not that he cares. He doesn’t. He doesn’t care about anything, not even when he hears Frank moving over to the bed again, not even when the M&M's-that-aren’t-really-M&M's clink in the bowl.
Not even when the bed dips and Frank’s hand - warm, so warm, Gerard is going to melt - touches the side of his face.
“Don’t move,” Frank warns him quietly. There is something in his hand, something soft and slick, and it takes Frank gently lifting his head from the pillow and wrapping it over his eyes for him to realize it’s their blindfold. That makes his body start overheating even more, and his mouth falls open in a gasp.
“What–”
“No talking,” Frank’s words are a quiet breeze against Gerard’s lips, his breath as hot as his hands. “Can I trust you not to touch, or do I need to tie you up?”
“You– oh my God, this is homicide,” Gerard gasps, letting his arms fall to the sides again, hands gripping the bedsheets. Frank’s body on top of his is only adding more heat, and he seriously thinks he’s going to get a headache from it. It’s getting a headache and Frank’s cock or not getting either, though, so it’s not like Gerard has to think about it for long. “I won’t touch.”
“Good,” Frank hums. “You did it to yourself, really. Lying there all beautiful and naked, begging to be defiled. And I can help you cool down, too, so that’s a double win.”
“I don’t feel cool,” Gerard says. He tries to relax into the bed when he feels Frank straddling him, but it’s hard. Everything is clammy, each point of contact between their bodies feeling like a furnace. He even thinks his breathing is now elevated, but that may be simply because Frank is on top of him again, breathing on his neck.
“You will,” Frank promises. Whatever it is he has in the bowl rattles again, and then he’s leaning even closer. His voice sounds weird, kind of muffled, and distorted when he speaks next. “Tilt your head back.”
Gerard does, then waits. He doesn’t dare speak now that Frank is really getting into it because he has explicitly told him not to, but without talking, touching, and seeing, it’s tough to guess what Frank is doing over there. It sounds like he’s chewing his fucking gum again, that’s for sure, and Gerard is about to remind him how annoying it is when Frank’s lips finally touch the side of his neck.
Gerard flinches so hard it hurts. Where he expected the warmth of Frank’s mouth, he gets hit with a cold, wet slide of his tongue, and his entire body trembles. It’s freezing, the feeling a complete shock to his system, and he arches beneath Frank’s body with a gasp. Frank, being an asshole, kisses him gently again and laughs.
“Cold?” he coos. He moves his lips up, following the curve of Gerard’s jaw until he gets to his cheek and chuckles again. There is a cold drop of water that’s running down Gerard’s neck, and it makes him shiver again.
“What is that?” Gerard risks asking. His eyes are wide open under the blindfold, but he can’t see anything, not even shadows - the fabric is solid.
“Can’t you tell?” Frank asks. The bowl makes the noise again, and Gerard’s body is wound so tight he feels like one of Frank’s guitar strings. The next kiss lands squarely in the middle of his chest when Frank shimmies down the bed, and Gerard is left gulping air like a fish pulled out of the water when the coldness spreads. The air around him is still so hot it is hard to breathe in the first place, and Frank isn’t helping.
Then it hits him. It wasn’t gum that he heard. It was Frank putting crushed ice into his mouth, the one he uses for his drinks sometimes, and moving it around before latching onto the side of his neck. The thought alone is enough to make him moan, feet dragging across the bed when he tries to spread his legs.
“Oh– fuck.”
“Mm, soon,” Frank chuckles. There is the crunch again, and Gerard freezes. He knows where this is going before Frank even leans in, and then he arches again and whines when Frank’s mouth closes around his left nipple. It’s so cold he can feel it hardening immediately, and he doesn’t know what he’s trying to accomplish - he wants to get closer and get away from it at the same time. Frank hums, sucking gently around it and letting the water slip from his mouth and spill over Gerard’s chest.
Gerard shivers when it slides down to his ribs, and Frank laughs.
“Remember, no moving,” he reminds him, leaving a series of soft kisses across his chest before he gets to his other nipple. Gerard doesn’t have to see him to know that he licks his lips. “This one looks warm, too. Let me help you cool off.”
“Frankie–” Gerard gasps, then gasps again when Frank leans back in and licks across his right nipple, the drag of his tongue painfully slow and so cold it makes goosebumps spread on his skin. It doesn’t go away, either, and he has to clench his fists harder against the bedsheets to stop himself from thrashing when Frank leaves a piece of ice pressed snuggly to the hardened bud.
“Shh, enjoy it,” Frank whispers. He’s getting more ice, chewing on it as his legs tighten around Gerard’s knees. He’s holding him in place, Gerard realizes, and it’s because where he goes next is Gerard’s stomach. It makes Gerard jolt like he’s been shot, and his mouth falls open in a moan when the coldness hits his skin. He knows he’s supposed to be freezing, but for whatever reason, it also feels like he’s on fire. Not because the room is hot. Because Frank is touching him and because the contrast between his lips and Gerard’s body is drastic.
It makes Gerard hard before Frank even dips his tongue in his belly button.
It takes Frank licking across his hips for Gerard to realize where this is ultimately going. Freezing water is seeping down his body everywhere now, wetting the bedsheets beneath him and sliding under his back and between his legs, and Gerard is panting by the time Frank’s hands find his thighs and pull them apart. He’s still not low enough for Gerard to really feel the cold, but the water is already enough, and he shivers and groans when it gets lower.
“Fuck,” he whines before he can stop himself. Frank hums against his skin, sliding an inch down, and Gerard can feel his balls drawing up when the water trickles down to them. “Oh, fuck, no–”
“No?” Frank asks. Gerard imagines his smile, cheeky and confident, and shivers again. “You don’t want me to suck your cock?”
“I– fuck you,” Gerard gasps, which makes Frank laugh. Normally he would maybe be punishing Gerard for mouthing back to him, but what he’s doing is already punishment enough. Gerard has to hold his breath when Frank grabs the back of one of his thighs and presses it back against his chest, opening him up. That’s worse. That’s so, so much worse, and his cock is so hard that he’s pretty much ready to burst. He wants to reach for Frank so badly it hurts, but he clenches his fists around the sheets and tells himself to just breathe.
The ice rattles in the bowl, and then Frank’s freezing fingers are sliding between his cheeks. It’s still a shock, then a bigger one when he feels the piece of ice, cold and quickly melting, pressing against him. It’s small enough that regardless of how hard Gerard tenses, it still slips inside him without any problems. It’s so fucking cold. Gerard thrashes against the bed, groaning at the sensation, but Frank is already pressing his finger into him, too, locking the little ball of ice inside him.
“It’s safe,” Frank reassures him. “I checked.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” is the only response Gerard can muster. He tries lifting his hips from the mattress to run away from it, but Frank has him pinned there, his free arm thrown over his body. “Oh God–”
“Shh, it’ll melt soon,” Frank whispers. He presses his cold mouth to the side of Gerard’s thigh and sucks, making Gerard’s body tense again. He realizes he’s shaking when he feels Frank’s breath wash over the head of his cock - warm breath, God bless - and he has to let out a low grunt of distress. Frank notices it immediately, his finger stilling where it’s been pumping steadily into him. “Gee?”
“I’m good,” Gerard mumbles. His fucking teeth are chattering, and he lets out a shaky breath before he feels like it’s safe to speak again. “Just– wanna touch you.”
“One hand?” Frank offers softly. Gerard nods, knowing that Frank is gazing up at him from between his legs, and isn’t disappointed when Frank’s fingers find his right wrist. He gently pries his hand away from the bedsheets and guides it to the back of his own head, Gerard clutching his hair immediately. It’s not long enough to actually grab, but he can run his fingers through it. It calms him down.
He doesn’t push, but then again, he doesn’t have to. Frank knows exactly what he wants, and after he double-checks if Gerard is really okay, he presses another finger into him and closes his mouth around the head of his cock. The lips are still cold, but the inside of Frank’s mouth is burning hot, and Gerard arches into it, hips jumping when he moans.
He doesn’t know what to do with everything he’s feeling. His ass is cold, but Frank’s fingers feel fucking glorious when he rubs inside him, finding his prostate with no issues, and he keeps his lips tight when he starts bobbing his head, taking Gerard’s cock all the way to the back of his throat in one smooth slide. One thing about Frank is that this motherfucker sure knows how to suck cock, and he’s a fucking master in his craft. He knows exactly how to swirl his tongue around the head, when to swallow when he goes lower, how to lick at the slit when he pulls back. He has Gerard moaning in under a minute, and the fact that Gerard can’t see him only adds to the sensation.
“Frankie,” he whines, letting his hips jolt every time Frank’s head goes down. He’s so fucking cold and so fucking hot at the same time. The ice is melting, he can feel the freezing water sliding between Frank’s fingers inside him, and the sun is still shining on his body, melting the ice that’s on his chest, and Frank’s fingers are cold, but his mouth isn’t, and Gerard thinks he’s going to die. He’s hyperventilating at this point, and his orgasm is approaching much faster than he thought was possible.
He tightens his fingers around Frank’s hair and pulls, trying to warn him. That’s the best he can do, however, and thank God that Frank knows his signals like the back of his hand now. He draws back a little and sucks the head, fingers pressing down into Gerard’s prostate, and that’s all it takes. Gerard cums with a strangled yell, thrusting into Frank’s mouth and arching his back so far the ice slips from his chest and lands somewhere on the bed.
There is no time to recover, either. Frank grabs his legs and pushes them back, shifting on the bed, and before Gerard can fully comprehend what’s happening, he has Frank’s cock sliding inside him. It’s a tight fit, and his world is spinning from how hot it is. He grunts, going boneless against the bed, and can only gasp softly when Frank fucks into him in rough, fast shoves. It takes just a few of them, and then he’s being filled, Frank’s cum just as warm as everything else, and it’s yet another shock, forcing one more spontaneous shudder out of Gerard’s body.
As soon as Frank slips out of him, Gerard actually feels cold. He’s vaguely aware that Frank is uncurling his fingers from around his own hair where Gerard’s still holding onto him and from around the bedsheets, and that the blindfold comes off, but he can’t focus on any of it. He’s shaking, the cold, wet bedsheets making the trembling worse, and he seeks warmth more than anything. He has to moan when he feels Frank pulling him closer over to the other side of the bed. The sun illuminates more of it, and Frank’s chest and side are hot. Gerard nuzzles into him like a child, humming when Frank finds the previously discarded blankets and wraps one around them.
“Shit,” Gerard hears him whisper. He’s too tired to open his eyes, but he can imagine Frank’s face all worried. “Are you okay? Gee?”
“Cold,” Gerard mumbles. Frank sneaks an arm around his shoulders and pulls him even closer, making him hum with appreciation. “Fuck, mm, you’re so warm. Don’t move.”
“Cold?” Frank relaxes underneath him, sensing Gerard’s light tone. He laughs a little and leans in to kiss Gerard’s forehead. “Weren’t you boiling alive a few minutes ago? Threatening to die in this very bed?”
“Fuck off,” Gerard grumbles. Another chill runs down his back, forcing him to press into Frank even harder. “God, we could just install AC, you know? Or move back home.”
“West Coast is hotter than here now, which is precisely why we stay in New York during summer,” Frank reminds him. “And isn’t ice a much better way to cool down?”
Gerard has to give it to him - it is. He smiles, forcing his muscles to relax when Frank starts gently rubbing his shoulder blades and hugs himself to his chest. He knows that they will start getting hot in a minute again, but he’s going to enjoy this while it lasts. In the worst-case scenario, he’s sure there will still be some ice left unmelted in the bowl in case they need it.
“Much better,” he agrees after a moment. He blinks, opening his eyes, and looks up at Frank. “Fuck AC.”
Frank just smiles.