ladyrocketdale | [ 11 reasons...: Room Number 17 ]

[mood|

sad]
[music| Tonight, tonigh ~ Smashing Pumpkins]

Pairing: Gerard Way/ Frank Iero [My Chemical Romance]
For the: “11 Reasons why Frank and Gerard always are left alone.”
Table : Favorites. Prompt: 27. book
And for the april 2 07 prompt in

we_are_cities.
Rated: NC-17, for boysex.
Word Count: 3.056.-
Beta: That wonderful woman,

vamplover82.
Summary: The bus breaks down in the middle of nowhere, they get into an Inn and Gerard and Frank make some kind of promise.
Disclaimer: Honestly I don’t own MCR ~~we’re not saying that they don’t own me~~. Actually I just own a small teddy bear called Mikey that says ‘I love you’ and a little guy dressed like the black parade that it’s called Ray.
Dedication For

lauchis because she knows this was hard. For

holycloud. This one also goes for

faithfulriver26, 'cause she's so cute! :].
And for

underwater_sky &

killerxshark, just because they make writing so beautiful.

.Room Number 17.
& it's book.

Frank takes Gerard by the hand, leading him away and leaving the other guys behind making the arrangements, and Gerard follows because this is Frank, for fuck’s sake.

Gerard is not sure where they’re going, but Frank seems to know, so that’s okay. They are, after all, in the middle of nowhere in some little town in the East… or South, Gerard doesn’t remember. He remembers that he was lying half-awake in the tour bus when Mikey called him and said “The bus broke down; we’re spending the night at the first place we find.”

The first place they found ended up being this out of the ordinary inn, in which the age-style seems to be sixty-ish or so, and being almost midnight, everyone is sleeping already.

So, okay, Frank is searching for a room with the number that matches the key he stole from Brian something like five minutes ago, and he’s dragging Gerard with him, because apparently, they’re sharing a room.

Not that Gerard minds; for starters, he always shares a room with someone on tour (mostly Mikey) and secondly, well, again, this is Frank we’re talking about.

And in case you haven’t noticed, Gerard likes Frank. Gerard likes him a lot, thank you very much.

“You have any idea where you’re going?” Gerard asks, pretending to sound impatient, but his tone is mostly amused. And Frank lets a chuckle (that actually sounds like a giggle) come out from his lips as a response while he whispers, “no.”

“Why are we whispering?” Gerard wonders, and even if he knows that Frank can’t see him, he still arches an eyebrow at him.

“The landlady said that everyone should be sleeping by now so--- Aha! Found it!” Frank says proudly, interrupting his own speech and stopping so out of nowhere in front of a pale door that Gerard almost smacks into him; almost.

“Interesting,” Gerard says, and he knows that Frank knows that he’s observing the walls for the very first time. They are vanilla with long, thin brownish lines crossing over them; the door has the number ‘17’ in what, maybe years ago, was gold.

“Let’s get inside.” Frank says, and he’s smiling like an exited little kid, and fuck, Gerard loves that. Just as much as he loves that Frank still hasn’t let go of his hand.

There’s a part of Gerard’s mind worrying over where everyone else is, and their rooms, and how they are going to find each other in the morning. It’s not Gerard’s smarter side, because he quickly remembers that the inn is not really that big and that they all have a little thing called a phone. Gerard would have spent more time contemplating that he is an idiot, if he wouldn’t have been distracted by one more interesting fact, this time about the room. There’s only one king-sized bed in the middle of it.

“Awesome!” Frank says, and for the first time, he lets go of Gerard’s hand and goes over the bed, jumping onto it and making small ‘weehee’ sounds while bouncing on it.

“Enjoying yourself?” Gerard asks, recovering his composure and crossing his arms over his chest.

Frank just stops moving and smiles at Gerard with that childish grin he has that makes the older man weak in the knees. Not finding a way to confront such a display, Gerard moves his eyes from the guitarist and glances around the room with fake attention.

“Looks like a room that a twelve-year-old girl very much in love would make in The Sims,” he declares.

Frank laughs a bit at that. “It even has one of those guest books!” He adds, pointing to a table near to where Gerard is still standing.

Gerard looks and it’s true, over on the table to his left, there’s a big book with pages of the colour of time (Gerard tries really hard to memorize that colour; he would like to paint something with it someday… if he listens to his mom and stops just drawing around) and different handwritings (some very messy, others without the idea of making sure their letters are on the lines and not floating in the air...) on it. It looks clichéd and classic and matches perfectly with their night, and mostly, their room.

“Are you hungry?” Frank suddenly asks, and Gerard looks up from the book and his own thoughts to meet hazel eyes shining for him. Well, not for him, surely. Probably for the lack of light in the room and the fact that the only light that actually is there is so yellowish in tone that it makes your eyes water if you’re not used to it… but a man can dream, right?

“Uhm, not really, just tired.” Gerard says, his voice sounding a bit lazier than before, but it makes sense after all; he was practically falling sleeping when the whole bus thing happened.

“So, am I.” Frank got up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. “I don’t want the side near to the window!” he called before closing the door, making Gerard smile.

It’s something like ten or fifteen minutes later that Gerard feels the bed dipping under someone’s weight.

“You asleep?” Frank asks; there’s a soft air against Gerard’s cheek that makes him realize how close the other man is, and that makes him shiver slightly.

“Which one if the safer answer?” Gerard asks and turns, assuming that said action would make Frank move to his side of the bed. But that doesn’t happen, and Gerard’s eyes are so focused on Frank’s that he barely sees the sides of Frank’s head. Also Frank’s lips are there, close, dangerously pink and tempting and still shining even though Gerard turned off the light a bit a go.

“Since when do you like it safe?” Frank says with a smile that makes his lips brush against Gerard’s.

And Gerard really, really, wants to answer that. No, he doesn’t like safe, but Frank’s lips are distracting him without touching and making his throat feel scratchy and rough, and he has to –yes, has to- lick his lips.

The moment Gerard’s tongue is out of his mouth, Frank’s lips are on his. And he’s sure there’s no better feeling in the whole fucking world than Frank’s lips moving against his own. It even beats the crowd cheering while he sings, and that’s not really usual… but, hey, this is Frank, remember?

When Gerard finds his right hand circling Frank’s waist in response to the hand that Frank placed on his neck, he starts to contemplate the reasons behind this whole thing.

Because nothing odd happened that can give him a clue about Frank’s new actions. Gerard himself didn’t do anything out of ordinary. They’ve held hands before; they’ve shared room and even a bed.

“Fuck,” Frank mutters against Gerard’s lips, and that brings him back to reality, “Why have I waited so long to do this?” he asks rhetorically, and Gerard tries to think of a witty remark, but seeing Frank with his lips wet from their kiss and his breathing a bit heavier doesn’t really help improve his speaking capability, so he just shrugs.

Frank smiles at Gerard who’s shrugging under him and makes their lips collide again while getting on top of Gerard, making a twisted mess of the sheets. Gerard really needs to touch Frank’s skin somehow, so he uses the hand that already had a comfortable spot on one of his friend’s sides. He slides his hand under the t-shirt, caressing Frank’s back, making him bite Gerard’s bottom lip in response to the touch. Encouraged by that, Gerard’s hand keeps travelling up at a weird angle until it gets to Frank’s nipple.

“Your arm is gonna hurt,” Frank mutters as he moves back to the side of the bed, not breaking the lip-lock that he has with Gerard after saying that.

Gerard has one of his hands playing with Frank’s nipple under his shirt, twisting, pinching, and even poking softly, making the younger man breathe harder and bite down Gerard’s lips over and over. It’s then that the singer notices he hasn’t said anything since this started; Frank has done all the talking, and Gerard thinks it’s better like that because he doesn’t trust his voice or his mind to even be capable of such a distracting action as talking now that he has more important things to do; like getting his other hand on Frank’s body, and doing it now.

So, the other hand is smart, and it obeys Gerard’s order. With it, he caresses the other’s side, stopping at his hip to draw small circles there, making Frank’s bites a little stronger and more determined, as if he wanted to rip into Gerard’s bottom lip, but not really. Gerard enjoys that he can elicit this kind of reaction from his band mate, and that’s why his hand keeps moving further down, until he has it pressed against the front of Frank’s clothes.

A faint noise of approbation leaves Frank’s mouth, and Gerard starts rubbing his hand against the erection forming in his partner’s jeans, cupping him through his clothing and making him open his legs a bit; just enough so Gerard’s hand could find a comfortable place to keep on moving.
“Gee,” Frank breathes between kisses and bites, and Gerard’s decides that is the one sound that beats any other he has ever heard from anyone or even from Frank. “Gee,” Frank repeats, as if wanting to make sure of something.

“Fuck me.” he adds; more like begs, actually. And if Gerard’s heart was beating faster already, after that it was a constant tambourine moving in time with Frank’s breaths.

In all the time Gerard has imagined this happening (well, this or anything at all with Frank), it was always rushed. In some bunk, in a dressing room, in the bathroom of the bus, even… never something intimate or romantic or even private. It was the heat of the moment, never planned (not that Gerard had planned this, but, you know)… never like this. Where they were alone and had all the time in the world to enjoy each other, and even with the chance of making as much noise as they wanted.

“I don’t—”
“I do.” Frank smiled at Gerard’s confused face, “You’ll tease me about it later; now shut up and fuck me.”

Gerard smiled, getting ready to comply because that was a very nice request, and he didn’t want to disappoint Frank, “You’ve done this before, right?”

“If I say no, will you promise not freak out?”
“No?”
“Then yes, Gee, I’ve let tons of guys fuck me.” Frank said, rolling his eyes.
“Frank.”
“Gerard,” Frank smiled a little more softly, and his voice went back to the husky tone from before, “I really want this, so would you stop reading into it?”

Frank shivers softly under him, and Gerard thinks that his now naked chest over Frank’s also un-clothed back is the best feeling in the world.

“This is gonna feel a bit cold,” Gerard whispers softly, while one of his fingers caresses Frank’s entrance. “I’m going to go slow and you can stop me anytime, okay?”

Frank nods a bit, his face still looking beautiful in the beginnings of ecstasy, with his eyes softly closed, his mouth hanging open a bit with ragged breathing, and his longish black hair mussed.

Gerard pushes his finger into Frank just slightly, ready to have to stop. He still can’t believe this - can’t believe the naked man below him, ready for him, waiting for him.

“Gerard, I’m not going to break,” Frank hisses, sounding perhaps longing mixed with a bit of anger, but sounding how honestly he feels – impatient, just like Gerard does.

It’s not that they want this to end; it’s more like they want this to finally begin.

The smile is agreeable and almost invisible on Gerard’s lips, as he moves toward Frank’s ear and starts murmur to him, “Already wanting more, Frankie?”

He doesn’t give Frank the time to answer (he wants to stay with the last witty comment while they have some coherence), shoving his finger further into him. The sound coming from Frank’s throat is not pure pleasure, and Gerard knows that it has to be that way. It’s not pain at least; it’s just uncomfortable.

“It will get better,” he promises Frank, moving only one finger inside of him. “And it will feel nice.” He encourages, making in-and-out motions with his finger.

“You feel nice,” Frank breathes, and Gerard feels at the same time melted and totally turned on by those words; it may be a mix of what it means, of why Frank says it (they’re naked after all, and he’s feeling Gerard’s also-naked body) and how he says it, breathing it out like a groan due to the feeling that Gerard is causing in him.

It makes Gerard want to add a second finger, which he does, and this time Frank’s moan is loud, and it’s not totally happy, but Gerard can’t stop – not now. And so he says to Frank, who just nods again and begs for him to go on, saying something that may mean that he’s not complaining, that he wants this.

The whole time he’s scissoring his two fingers inside of Frank (and also later, when he adds the third) Gerard thinks that it’s a good idea talk to him; small words, saying how hot he looks like that, how he wants to hear pleasured sounds from him, how he can’t wait to be inside of him – that’s what makes Frank moan, but a really out-of-place moan. That, and the fact that Gerard’s fingers had hit his prostate.

“There, Frankie?” he whispers into the younger man’s ear, licking it bit and getting another moan in response. Moving his fingers, Gerard’s tongue licks its way to Frank’s lips, and Gerard kisses Frank hard and long, until he has his fingers out of Frank’s entrance.

Frank whimpers in reproach at the now-missing contact, and Gerard smiles a bit again.

“Shh,” he says, “The best part is yet to come.”

Gerard could have been happy with just looking at the lustful expression in Frank’s eyes while the guitarist watched him putting on the condom, like Gerard was Frank’s favourite dessert, ready to be eaten, and maybe he was; Gerard grins to himself.

“Ready?”

“Hell, yeah,” Frank groans. Gerard thinks about the way Frank says that with a mixture desperation, need and want… and he’s so fucked, because from now on, every time that Frank asks for anything, he’s sure he will get a hard-on or something like that and the terrible need to fuck Frank right there.

He pushes inside Frank slowly, doing his best to keep from following through on his honest and powerful wish of penetrating Frank’s still very tight body quickly. The irruption makes Frank groan a bit, and Gerard tells him that he needs to breathe in and out to adjust to the unusual feeling.

Frank really tries that, but his breathing comes in sharp gasps that only make Gerard want to rush the thing – want to fuck him senseless and now, honestly. But this is Frank, and more than anything, he wants this to be okay for him.

“Go on,” Frank prompts, when Gerard has stopped advancing into him, “I wanna feel what you did what your fingers again.”

Gerard can’t help but smile at that, because really, what else is there to do?

So, he keeps moving into Frank, still gradually, and saying some words here and there, just to hear Frank’s moan in response to them.

It’s not until he’s totally inside of the younger man that he feels Frank relax a bit, though the muscles of his ass still feel tight around Gerard’s erection, which makes him moan quietly.

“Okay?” he asks. Frank’s ‘yeah’ is breathed out, maybe followed by a small shiver that Gerard actually feels because one of his hands is roaming Frank’s side.

The confirmation to his question gives Gerard the authorisation he needs to start moving in Frank’s body. He pulls out just a bit the first few times, until he feels that Frank is getting used to those movements. Once he has thrust enough and hears a faint ‘faster’ of the other man’s voice, Gerard actually moves, enjoying the feeling of being inside Frank.

It takes him not more than a few of the new thrusts until Frank moans something that sounds pretty much like his own name. He knows that he has hit it again, and that makes him smile a bit.

“Harder, Gee.” Frank demands, while Gerard’s attention had wavered as he took pleasure in his new triumph.

Gerard complies immediately, making Frank pant and moan and groan and – “Fuck, Gerard right there,” – Gerard is sure that it won’t take long for him to come.

Gerard regrets a bit thinking that this position was best for Frank’s first time – not facing each other - because right now, there’s nothing that he wants more than to kiss Frank’s lips.

He has to wait though, wait until he has come and screamed – yes, he screamed it – Frank’s name, wait until he pulls out of Frank even though the other man protests with an ‘I liked having you there.’ But it’s a justified waiting, and when their lips collide again, it’s fucking worth it.

“We should do this more often,” Frank’s voice is tired and heavy.

“Yeah.” Gerard nods. They’re dirty, and it’s a bit disgusting, but feeling Frank’s naked body against his is still the best thing in the world.

“Is that a promise?”

Gerard smiles, “Of course.” He says, and they fall sleep shortly after that.

***

The happiest man on earth, Gerard thinks of writing.

My Chemical Romance, also crosses his mind, as if maybe in ten years, someone might look at it and their name would be familiar to this someone. Wishful thinking, Gerard smiles to himself.

But watching Frank’s sleeping body, watching his naked back against the white sheets that barely covered him, Gerard knows exactly what he wants to write in the guest book:

Frank and Gerard, it read in the big guest book.

And the date: sometime in 2007, ‘till forever.

It was a promise, after all.

~*~
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