demolition lovers || frerard

" three days "

The restaurant was everything Frank expected and more. They had to make fucking reservations, and the waiter didn't even bat an eye when two ratty teenage boys showed up to claim a table.

"Mr. Way?" he asked politely, and lead them to their seats. "May I start you off with a drink?"

Apparently, if you were to go to a really high-end restaurant, no one would give a shit if you ordered alcohol. So naturally they got themselves cocktails. Frank opted for a tequila sunrise (a/n: if u make these with lemonade instead of tequila theyre delicious lmao) and Gerard ordered the first thing he saw. Something with vodka, was it?

"This is insane," Frank commented quietly, looking over the menu. "Gee, there aren't any prices. How do you-"

"Shh," Gerard waved him off, smiling. "Don't worry about the money, baby, I got it." He nudged Frank with his foot and giggled. "I got enough for anything you order."

Frank blushed and hid his smile. "You don't have to, really, this is all a bit too much-"

Gerard grabbed his hand and covered it with his own, fingers brushing over his skinny wrist. "Baby," he repeated, "Don't you worry a single thing." He leaned in a little bit and smirked, his tongue swiping over his lips. "Daddy's got it all covered, right baby boy?"

He settled back in his seat and Frank shut his mouth, realizing his lips had parted slightly. "Y-yeah," he breathed, his eyes sweeping over the sight of Gerard in a well-fitting blazer and tie. God, what he'd give to be able to undress him right there and then; but of course they were in public, in a fancy restaurant, for goodness sakes- yet from the way Gerard was looking at him, Frank could predict what would happen the second they got home.

"You," Gerard stated, noticing his staring, "Have no idea how good you look, kitten. It's driving me wild."

Kitten? Frank didn't mind the nickname. In fact, it just served to turn him on (which wasn't good, because fuck, they were in public). He crossed his legs and smiled bashfully at Gerard. "All for you, daddy," he mumbled quietly, hoping no one at the other tables would happen to overhear, and Gerard bit down on his lip slightly.

He barely paid attention to the rest of the meal, just trying not to think about how hot it was to be called pet names, sipping his cocktail and sneaking shy glances at Gerard.

When it all came to an end, Gerard seemed in an immense hurry to pay and rush out of there; at first Frank thought it was because he was impatient and not wanting to wait to fuck Frank. But then they got home and he nudged Frank out of the car, trying not to look at the clock and failing, looking terribly anxious. "Go to my room," he ordered in a low voice, "There's a box on the bed. I want you to put on what it's inside, and only that, nothing else. I'll be home soon." He kissed Frank's cheek lightly, then nudged him again. "Go on, kitten, don't make me-"

"Okay," Frank agreed, sliding out of the car. "Hurry, daddy," he added just to see Gerard's breath hitch, then smiled at him and slammed the door shut, jogging up to the house.

Just as Gerard had said, there was a box on the bed. Frank locked the door behind him and sidled up to it, opening it carefully. Inside, was a simple ruffled black collar with a tiny bell on it along with an accompanying string. To tie it around his neck, he figured, and then Gerard calling him kitten made sense.

This was all shaping up to be a very kinky relationship (which Frank couldn't say he minded), and he smiled at the side of Gerard he'd never seen before. He looked at the box again and found only what seemed to be a sheer skirt. Remembering Gerard's previous instructions, he shimmied out of his blazer and tie, discarding his boxers and pants onto the floor. Frank examined the skirt and slipped it on. The strange, silky material brushed over his cock and he breathed in sharply. Fuck, that felt nice. He looked at the collar then, and smiled, putting it on and tying it as tight as he dared.