After the show, Gerard is sitting in the dressing room, taking his makeup off. When Frank comes in, he walks up behind the singer and kisses the top of his head.
"Hi," Gerard says, smiling.
"Hey."
"Great show. Holy shit."
"Fuck yeah. We need to kiss onstage more often." Frank says, smiling like a madman.
"As well as offstage," He says, not even looking at Frankie. The way he says it is so non-chalant, like he's talking about the weather, or what's for dinner. Frankie just smiles and sits in MIkey's chair, next to Gerard's and wipes the sweat off his face.
"Frankie?" Gerard says his name sort of like a guessing game.
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Being Frankie. Taking care of me all the time."
"Oh. That's. That's kind of really sweet. Yeah. You're welcome," Frank says with a smile.
"I really love you, Frankie. And um. I want..." He just kind of leaves the sentence, like it's going to finish itself.
"you want...?" Frank prompts.
"I want to like. Be. Um. Like. Together?" The last word is a question. So Frank leans over and kisses Gerard really softly on the corner of his mouth. He rests his forehead against the older boy's, each breath the two breathed merging between them.
"I'll tell Mikes that we went back to the hotel. Want some Coke?" He offered his can of diet Coke to Frank. As he took it, the makeup-removal resumed. Frankie smiles and sipped the drink passively. Then all the makeup was gone, and it was just Gerard underneath. The real Gerard. Frankie grabbed his hand and kissed his neck. Gerard stood up and they walked out to the tour bus together.
It was so much more than a few minutes together. The amount of vigorous kissing and touching and groping they squeezed into the 6 minute bus ride back to the hotel was astounding. When the bus finally did reach its destination, Frank had reached a point where he did not want to separate from Gerard more than two inches; for this amount of space was too much. Each time on set of hungry lips found the other's, a mutual smile would occur. Not a simple smile, one of upturned corners of the mouth, but a smile of the heart. The two men walked into the hotel in haste, mainly contemplating the amount of time it would take to be undressed. They'd made out in the elevator (or had been) when it stopped. The two took no notice as a respectable looking man stepped into the elevator car alongside them. Frankie broke away first, breathing into Gerard's ear a simple "wait a sec". Both boys looked over at the man, who had, by then, shoved himself as close to the opposite wall as he could get. He diverted his eyes, suddenly becoming unbearably interested in his shoelaces. Frankie was the first to giggle, the first to let a grin slide onto his lips. Gerard soon followed, allowing himself to chuckle without a real reason other than Frankie's weird laugh.
"Hey, dude. Hey." Frankie beckoned, his eyes glistening.
"May I help you?"
"People are gay. Deal with it." The boy spat, door opening simultaneously. He led Gerard out into the hall by his hand. Frankie fumbled with the key for only a moment, but sighted gratefully when the green light blinked and he opened the door. Immediately after the heavy door rested on the frame once more, the sexual tension sweltered. Passion was at a point, a crux, a peak, and Frankie thought he would have died if Gerard were to leave him then. Maybe he would. Was that possible? Fuck if he cared. Frankie, amidst his thoughts, let himself be pushed onto the bed in the center of the room. (They had moved it in order to jump on it earlier the day before) And he actually liked it. He was excited to get into this with Gerard; it didn't scare him one bit. The older boy was on top of him, his inky black hair falling onto Frank's face, tickling him. Their tongues explored their mouths, venturing into uncharted land. Gerard was urgent: he needed Frank. It seemed to him as if instantaneous wasn't fast enough. Frank loved the way their frames were mixing, bones tangling together in a mess of passion. The singer's hands were on his hips, as if they were anchoring him there- to the bed. The younger boy deepened the kiss, as if when he tried, the two bodies could melt together. They were undressing each other, shedding clothes like simple things, simply objects. Clothes were no more a barrier between them, they were both naked. Frank's mind did a subconscious keyboard mash when he saw Gerard's wang, 'cause holy shit it was big. He kissed Gerard's shoulder gently, hands resting on his waist.
"Frank, Frank, Frankie Frank." The ebony-haired boy whispered against Frankie's skin. Frank only looked up at him with his mouth flipped at the edges.
"Fuck me. Frank. Fuck me." He breathed. Frank, in his mind, was already complying. The smaller frame moved over the longer one, caressing it with soft hands, guitar hands. Calloused to the point of perfection. Everything about this boy, it seemed, was perfect.