"Hey, babe," Frank said gently as he walked into Gerard's study. He'd just come home from work and set down his things on the sofa in the living room.
"Hey, Frankie," Gerard said tensely. Frank felt his insides squeezing apprehensively so he strode over to where his husband was sitting at his table.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I'm just stressed is all," he sighed and turned around in his chair to face Frank.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"No, that's okay," he mumbled. "Could you boil the water for me? I'll be out in a second and make us some coffee."
"Yeah," Frank hesitated and laid a gentle hand on Gerard's shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of his shirt. "I..."
Gerard laid his head on Frank's arm affectionately. "What?"
"Don't worry about it, I'll tell you later," he said, smiling tiredly and kissing the top of Gerard's head. "I'll go boil water."
Gerard kissed Frank's hand before it slid off of his shoulder. Frank shuffled out of the room and closed the door behind him, his mood dampened. Gerard never talked to him. He'd always brush off the 'are you okay's and the 'what's wrong's, and it was starting to upset Frank. Gerard was depressed, they both knew it, and Frank was too, but Gerard was in deeper since he was recovering from his alcohol and drugs phase and Frank really just wanted to know what was going on in his husband's head.
Wallowing in his thoughts, Frank filled up the kettle and put it on the plastic circle, pushing down the lever on the side and leaning on the counter opposite, crossing his arms and biting his lip. In a few moments, he heard Gerard's door opening and he sighed, releasing his lip from the grasp of his front teeth.
"Hey," Gerard said stiffly and reached up into the cupboard, pulling out coffee grinds and the french press. He set the items down and looked hesitantly at Frank. "What were you gonna say to me earlier?"
"I... um," Frank paused momentarily. He didn't want to talk about it. He wanted to lighten the mood, maybe take Gerard out for dinner or something to get them both to feel better, but he'd be the world's biggest hypocrite if he didn't confide in his husband. "It's just... you... well, you never talk to me anymore."
"What?"
"About things," he paused again, biting his lip sorrowfully. "Like mental health, how you're doing... things like that."
"Yeah, because usually talking about things makes me feel worse about them."
Frank bit his lip harder, processing this. "Alright... but sometimes you have to feel worse in order to feel better. Plus, I wanna know what's going on up there," he tapped the side of his own head. "So I can help you get better and feel better. I wanna be in the loop, Gee."
Gerard rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Frankie, I'm fine. I go to my therapist once a week and I talk to her, okay?"
Frank's eyes started to sting and he felt a jolt in his heart. His arms tightened across his chest as he looked at Gerard. "Yeah," he responded, clearing his throat. "But you've also got to tell me at least a little bit about what's going on so I can help you through this too. I've got my problems and you've got yours and I feel like I'm the only one ever talking about anything."
Gerard didn't respond; he just looked away.
"I'm fucking worried about you, Gerard. We're supposed to take care of each other, that's how being married works, but I can't take care of you if you don't tell me what's wrong."
"Frankie, can you fucking drop it?"
"No!"
"Why the hell not?"
"Because I fucking care about you, Gerard! You looked stressed out as fuck when I got home, and I asked you how you felt, and I expected you to rant to me about something! I wanna hear what's stressing you out so you can get it off your shoulders! When you look sad or moody, I ask you how you feel and you always just brush me off."
"Because I don't wanna talk about it!"
"But you have to talk to me!" Frank pleaded, his eyes tearing up. "Gerard, you're so far away from me, you've gotta let me know what's going on!"
"Far away?" Gerard growled, leaning forward as he did so and stepping towards Frank.
"Fucking hell!" Frank cried, stepping closer too, cheeks bright red as he fumed. "Yeah! When was the last time we had a conversation that lasted longer than ten minutes?! We used to talk on the phone for goddamn hours, Gerard! We used to go on coffee dates and sit there until the cafe fucking closed and lose track of time! We used to tell each other everything, but now, you just feel like a goddamn stranger to me! You're my husband, and I'm yours," he paused, feeling the weight of his words. "But it doesn't feel like it anymore."
Frank breathed out, finally realising how close they'd gotten. They were leaning towards each other, faces inches apart, and Frank couldn't help but notice the new way his heart was beating even through the blind fury and hurt that it was weighed down with.
Gerard took a few moments to respond, but when he did, his tone was laced with malice. "You want me to make you feel it?"
Frank shivered, backing away--the small of his back hitting the counter behind him as Gerard took slow steps towards him.
"It doesn't feel like we have a connection, anymore, Frank?" Gerard growled, and Frank couldn't tell if he was being serious or if he was thinking with his dick, so he didn't reply. Gerard kept talking anyway. "You want me to show you what the fuck we have going on between us?" he asked, pressing himself into Frank and whispering in his ear.
"I can make you feel it for days."
Frank inhaled sharply as Gerard's hands took his hips in his hands and held them tight. Frank responded immediately, his hands trailing up Gerard's arms, but they were yanked away almost instantly; Gerard gripped Frank's wrists and pressed them against the counter, leaning in to bite harshly at the tender spot right below Frank's ear.
Frank let out an embarrassing whine, and to make up for it, he nodded, answering the questions that he thought were rhetorical.
"I wanna feel it for much longer than that, Gerard," he almost spat, but his voice was weak with lust and desperation, and if the situation was different, Gerard would have grinned. But he just shoved his hips into Frank's and ground down on him, clutching his wrists harder and sucking at the pulse point in Frank's neck.
"You wanna feel it for-fucking-ever, Frankie?" Gerard growled against Frank's neck, and Frank nodded fervently, this time making Gerard smirk. He removed his hips from Frank's and replaced them with his hand, palming Frank roughly through the denim of his jeans, pulling a loud moan from the back of Frank's throat.
Frank's eyes were squeezed closed and his breath was shaky as Gerard teased him through his jeans, and he took Gerard's distractedness as an opportunity to wrap one arm around Gerard's neck and return Gerard's gesture, touching him through his jeans. Gerard however, just stopped adding to Frank's growing hard-on and ripped his hands from around his neck and on his crotch, pulling him away from the counter and up against the wall.
"No fucking touching."
Frank squeaked as Gerard's hands pressed his wrists into the wall above his head. "S-sorry, Gee."
Gerard didn't reply, he just began unzipping Frank's jeans. Frank took Gerard's hands off and kicked off his pants himself, then removed his sweater and shirt. When he got his shirt over his head, Gerard was throwing his own over his shoulder and then pushing Frank back into the wall, moving their hips together again.
Frank looked up desperately at Gerard with half-lidded eyes, and through his anger, Gerard felt his heart twist hungrily, so he pressed his lips to Frank's, practically eating up a moan that escaped the short man's lips as they made contact.
"Oh, god, just fuck me," Frank gasped out desperately when he felt (and saw) that the two of them were leaking in their boxers, and Gerard nodded.
"Get the lube."
Frank nodded back and rushed down the hall to their bedroom, returning quickly with the lube in his hands. Gerard was taking off his boxers when he arrived. When Gerard saw him, he smirked and slipped a couple of fingers under the waistband of his briefs and tugged them off. Frank squeaked. Gerard grabbed his arse and pulled him closer, slamming him against the wall again, and then his fingers were trailing down to the backs of his thighs, and now, Frank was getting the message, so he wrapped his legs around Gerard's waist and was promptly pushed back into the wall.
Gerard took almost no time lubing himself up and then looked Frank in the eyes. He was still pissed off and so was Frank, by the looks of it, but he wasn't a bad husband--he still wanted consent. Frank nodded, and as soon as Gerard pushed in, his head came to rest in the crook of the older man's neck.
Gerard waited for a minute, but as soon as Frank said to, he moved, slowly, agonisingly slowly in and out of Frank. Frank's moans were desperate and his teeth were digging into Gerard's neck and shoulders and he was breathing erratically, begging Gerard to go faster, but the only thing Gerard did was remove one hand from Frank's hips to touch him, his hand moving even slower than his dick.
"Fucking go faster!" Frank moaned, and Gerard had to admit it was hard for him too, so he did.
He slammed into Frank suddenly, and both of them moaned loudly, and with the way Gerard was touching him and rocketing into him, neither of them were going to last much longer. Frank and Gerard were moaning, panting, and sweating, and Frank's back ached from hitting the kitchen wall too many times, but soon, there was not only sweat, but come covering them, and Gerard pulled out, setting Frank on his feet tenderly.
"Fuck," Frank breathed. "That escalated quickly."
Gerard blushed, taking Frank's hand in his. "We haven't had angry sex in a long time, huh?"
Frank just stayed silent, remembering the reason this all happened.
"Hey," Gerard purred, tucking a finger under Frank's chin. "We're disgusting, you wanna shower?"
Frank nodded, looking up guiltily into Gerard's eyes and finding his guilt mirrored into oblivion in his husband's eyes. "Sure."
The two picked up their clothes (dried themselves off a little) and threw them in the washing machine before walking into the bathroom and turning on the water. Frank leant against the wall while they waited, and Gerard walked over hesitantly, taking the younger's hands in his and bringing them to his lips, his lips brushing over Frank's knuckles gently.
Frank took his hands away and brought his lips up to meet Gerard's softly. Gerard leant into the kiss and one of his hands slipped through Frank's hair and gently pulled him closer. When they parted, Frank looked over at the shower, and noticing steam, pulled Gerard in with him. They stood under the wide stream and let the gunk rinse off their bodies.
Frank reached for the soap, but Gerard caught his wrist.
"Ow," Frank said immediately, and Gerard flinched, unwrapping his fingers from Frank's wrist to see developing bruises.
"Fuck, sorry," he breathed.
"It's kind of hot," Frank whispered, smiling faintly.
"Hey, Frank?" Gerard sighed.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry. I know you're right about me talking to you, I'm just really scared of hurting you," he mumbled, and Frank's hands came to rest on Gerard's hips. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna do my best to talk to you about things... like even when you don't ask me, okay?"
"Thank you, Gee," Frank hummed and kissed him. "I really appreciate it."
"And I'm gonna take you out on a date like... tonight if you want to. And--and--and we're gonna go on at least one date every week or so, okay?" he scrambled, suddenly realising he didn't do nearly enough for Frank. "And we'll do more things together, and it'll go back to how it used to be, and I'll show you how much I fucking love you every single day of my life. Because god, I love you so much, baby, you--"
"Hey, hey, shh," Frank cooed and took Gerard's face in his hands. "I love you too, and I'd love to do all of those things for you too, babe, but we gotta get the scent of sex off of us before we can even consider going out for dinner tonight."
"I'm so sorry, Frankie," he mumbled, and Frank cupped his cheek in his hand.
"I forgive you, baby. Thanks for apologising."
Gerard hummed, and Frank brought their lips together gently, and then their lips were moving softly against each other. When they pulled apart, they were both smiling softly.
"It's Friday, right?" Gerard asked out of the blue and plucked the soap off of the little shelf in the shower and began to wash Frank's body. Frank leant into his touch.
"Yeah, it's Friday."
"Great, perfect," he smiled.
"What?"
"Nothing, I just... we can like... not worry about going to bed too late."
"You wanna watch Star Wars and cuddle when we get home, don't you, ya little shit?" Frank winked, and Gerard nodded, almost guiltily.
Frank washed the rest of his body and helped Gerard a little bit. When they got out and dried off, they were in their room, both hovering at their closet.
"What should we wear?"
"Where are we going?"
"Definitely casual. I have bruises on my neck and wrists," Frank blushed, picking out a striped long-sleeve shirt that covered his wrists and pulling a band shirt over it. Gerard wore a band shirt and a jacket, and they both wore black skinny jeans. Both men grabbed their wallets, but Gerard forced Frank to leave his at home, and both took their keys.
They walked hand in hand from their apartment to a shitty Italian restaurant that had the best food in the motherfucking world, and after they had their leftovers bags full, they paid and left, falling asleep on the sofa together--Gerard's body draped over Frank's.
When they woke up, Frank's arse and back were sore.