~Part 21~

3K 123 296
                                    

Dust motes danced in the light spilling in through the windows; Frank watched Gerard lift his arm and lazily try to catch them.

"Why didn't you let me go?"

Gerard let his hand drift back down to the bed again, back to Frank's skin.

Frank covered it with his own, lifted it to his mouth and kissed Gerard's knuckles, the ball of his thumb, his palm. He rolled them over so he was on top again, moved in the tangle of sheets to rest between Gerard's thighs.

"Frank," Gerard whispered, hand on the side of Frank's face. Sweat had gathered in the hollow between his collarbones; Frank ducked down to taste it, salt-sting on his tongue.

He kissed up the side of Gerard's throat, lingering at the soft place under his jaw. He felt Gerard's arms come up around him, and then just like that Frank was inside him again, with Gerard's thighs tight around his hips, and his breath coming fast and helpless against Frank's ear.

"Why didn't you just let me go?" Frank was obsessed with the bare skin of Gerard's throat, he couldn't hold back from sucking kisses in a ring around it, marking it for his own. He felt Gerard's moans under his lips, felt his hands tighten on Frank's shoulder, his back, in his hair.

Frank pushed forward and Gerard arched his back, eyes closed, gasped, "I'm too selfish. Frank, Frank, please," and Frank said, "Yeah, anything," and kissed him deep as they rocked together in Frank's bed.

The phone rang.

Frank woke up.

"Fuck," he breathed. The ceiling was blurred and his vision swam, and he closed his eyes against it, against the traffic noise outside and the beam of sunlight that sliced through the gap in the drapes and lay across Frank's face, too-hot and insistent. His head hurt and his mouth was dry. His dick throbbed and his skin prickled all over with remembered sensation.

"Fuck," Frank said again, and shoved his hand down under the sheets so he could wrap it around his cock and jack himself off as quick as possible, kept his eyes closed so he could hang onto the dream for another moment and come while he was still confused about being in an empty bed.

He lay there panting for a while; wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. When he heaved himself out of bed, he walked to the bathroom on shaky legs and stood in the shower for a long time, head bowed under the spray, hands braced against the tile wall.

The phone rang again while he was changing his sheets. He didn't pick up.

UnholyverseWhere stories live. Discover now