(no subject)
No Small Pleasure
The first time Gerard jerked off thinking about Frank, he was sixteen and so horrified and ashamed afterwards that he barely spoke a word the whole next week. His dad just muttered something about teenage rebellion and shame curled tighter in Gerard's stomach, that his dad and friend - fuck, his friend - thought he was just being a normal teenager - normal as they got, anyway - but it was nothing like that. He was as far from normal as you could be; he was wrong and fucked up and sick and wrong.
He made peace with it, though. Denial took him through a couple of years before it just got exhausting wrenching his eyes away whenever Frank showed a strip of skin, and it eventually became one of those things he just didn't think about too hard otherwise he'd go crazy. Sorta along with 'our lives suck', 'I can never truly be normal', and 'there are evil things in the dark that kill innocent people for no reason and will never stop'. He put it in a nice box, didn't tear himself up when his jerk-off fantasies bent in a slightly incestuous direction, and got on with it.
Except sometimes it came up - so to speak - and complicated things.
Frank was in the middle of a particularly colourful and rambling description of some girl he'd fucked a few summers ago and the crazy things she'd done with a length of rubber tubing and some syrup, when he paused mid sentence and laughed. “Hey, oh man, that reminds me of that girl - I ever tell you about her? The pee girl? She asked me to pee on her before we fucked, man, that was fucked up -”
Gerard had no idea what the previous story could have contained to remind Frank about this; he hadn't really been paying attention. He was now.
“Did you - did you do it?”
Frank smirked at him. “I never say no to a pretty lady.”
Gerard forced a long-suffering grin, something about Frank being oversexed and disgusting, but his cock was hardening so fast he felt dizzy, need and raw jealousy rushing through him, taking him somewhat off-guard. What the hell? Did he want Frank to piss on him? He kinda wanted Frank to do anything to him. Did he want to piss on Frank? He - oh Jesus. The hot pool of arousal burning under his belly answered that question for him.
Gerard had never really had a problem with piss, had never understood Jess's bizarre disgust at the concept of peeing in the shower. Coming from the girl who'd dig into a sandwich after spending hours up to her elbows in various shades of oil paints without washing her hands - Gerard trusted his own urine a lot more than funny-smelling paints in old tubes.
He'd always liked waiting until he had a slightly full bladder before jerking off - the slight pressing need to go always gave the orgasm a nice edge, and the double release of pissing afterwards left him sated and relaxed. He liked to run his fingers over and under his cock as he stood over the toilet, feel the flow against his fingers - it was warm and actually kind of nice. Plus, it was sterile. Nothing all that gross about it. Not that he'd ever tell Frank any of that, and not that he'd ever really thought he had a thing for it, but the way just the image of pissing on Frank, streaming down onto Frank's freckled skin, made his cock twitch painfully in his jeans - well. Maybe he should reconsider that thing.
Frank was looking at him, concerned. “You okay, dude? You look sort of - sick.”
Gerard shrugged. Sicker than you know, apparently. “Just a headache. Gonna try and sleep.” He shifted around and thought desperately of Jess's grandma having sex with his European Law professor - which was normally foolproof - before he did something embarrassing like come in his jeans, in the car, with Frank right there. All from just thinking about pissing. Jesus.
--
Gerard was still on edge by the time they got to the motel. He just had to jerk off - maybe a couple of times - and get this antsy need out of his system.
He closed himself quickly in the bathroom and stripped off his clothes, turned on the shower and started jerking his cock hard and frantic, needing just to come. Then he'd shower, sleep and push the Frank thing back into its box where he could deal with it without having to duck into motel bathrooms for desperate jerking off because he couldn't control himself around his freaking friend. He could go back to dealing with it - no more talk of - oh shit - pissing on anyone - holding Frank down and marking him -
His hand was flying frantically on his dick when the door flew open.
“Gee, you sure you're okay, dude? You-”
They stood frozen in the obscene tableau, Gerard naked and cock in hand, and Frank - Frank wasn't moving, wasn't leaving. Eyes not horrified on Gerard's face but glued on Gerard's cock. Why wasn't he looking away? Why was he staring too long, and why the fuck was Gerard's hand still moving, shit-
Frank's eyes jerked back up to Gerard's face, and there was the horrified apology quivering there, battling with something else, and he jerkily turned and practically ran out, slamming the door as Gerard came all over his fist.
Gerard stood there panting for a minute. Then he washed his hands, wrapped a towel around his waist, and walked out of the bathroom.
Frank was pacing aimlessly around the beds. “Oh hey, Gerard, look, dude, I'm sorry,“ he started, too loud, and laughed falsely. “You should lock the door, man, didn't I teach you any better as a - what -”
Gerard utterly ignored Frank, walking purposefully towards him. He knew what he'd seen in Frank's face, knew what crackled between them, and he was going to fucking take this, knew it in his gut even though his mind was a mess of self-doubt and fear and maybe impossible imminent joy underneath it all.
Frank backed up a step, panic in his face. “Hey - look, I said I'm sorry, you don't need to get all - I, uh.”
But Gerard didn't stop, not until Frank's back was to the wall and Gerard was far too close. Frank wasn't pushing him away, was closing his eyes and clenching his jaw as Gerard stepped in that last inch and pressed their bodies together. An agonising moment passed as Frank seemed to struggle with himself, his face set as he dropped the façade of cluelessness.
"Gerard," he bit out. "No. This is too - we can't-"
But Gerard just pressed his face to Frank's hot neck, closed his teeth briefly on Frank's earlobe and whispered, as Frank's breath caught and stuttered, "Do you want me?"
He drew back slightly and waited until Frank opened his eyes, met Gerard's. He looked an odd mixture of vulnerable and defiant, bracing himself against Gerard, against himself, against the world - but all he said was, "Yes."
Gerard growled and bit at Frank's bottom lip, reaching to grab Frank's wrists and pin them against the wall, the sudden need to hold Frank down and utterly own him pouring through his veins. No one else was allowed to have Frank, to have this, again; it was all fucking Gerard's, now. From the way Frank went limp against Gerard's fierce grip and panted against his mouth, it seemed Frank approved of the plan, too.
He tightened his fingers and snarled hotly against Frank's cheek, words tripping out of him too fast. "Only you, Frank, only fucking - need all of you, the things I want to do to you, all mine to do what I want with-"
Frank panted back, "Jesus, Gerard. Anything you need, you've always known that."
Gerard abruptly let go of Frank's wrists and stepped back, breathing hard. Frank just looked at him, waiting. Fucking - waiting for Gerard to tell him what to do, and Gerard's heart thumped in his chest."Take - take off your clothes. And get on the bed.”
Frank swallowed and moved, pulling off his clothes, catching Gerard's eye in an oddly shy way and Gerard bit back down a snort, relaxing all of a sudden. This was right, this was them, and this was going to be fucking awesome.
Frank saw his grin. “Fuck you, bitch,” he said, but he was smirking too.
Gerard dropped the smile as Frank shucked the last of his clothes. “Lie down.”
Frank lay on his back, and Gerard could see him struggling with his own pride and the need to just spread himself out for Gerard, and Gerard felt a surge of heady power and love as Frank let it go and bared himself, for him, all for him. Open for him.
He stripped off his own clothes and straddled Frank on the bed, jacking Frank's cock to full hardness, dizzy with the feel of his friend in his hand - finally. Frank groaned below him. “Oh, Jesus, Gerard, your fucking hands. How - how long?”
He looked disbelieving, like this couldn't be true, like he couldn't be getting this, and the idea that Frank had wanted this for maybe even as long as Gerard had made Gerard's head spin. He gripped Frank's hip with his other hand, ran his thumb over the impossibly soft skin there. Frank closed his eyes and squirmed slightly.
Gerard huffed a wry laugh. “Long enough,” he said, and leaned down to kiss his friend fiercely. “No one fucking else, alright, not after - not now, it's this, just this. Frank, I need it to be,” breathing the words against Frank's lips.
He could feel Frank's mouth curving up under his. “Well, I guess that's good then. I was thinkin' pretty much the same thing, dork.” Frank slid his hands up Gerard's back, a slight trembling belying his flip words.
Gerard took hold of Frank's wrists again and pushed them up over his head, pressed them down into the bed, and Frank shuddered beneath him, mouth opening on a moan. “I mean it,” said Gerard, “and no more - fucking stories, no one else is allowed to, anything - I don't wanna fucking hear about anyone else, whatever, pissing on you or-”
Frank huffed a shaky laugh beneath him. “What, Gee, you wanna piss on me instead?”
And Gerard couldn't help it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes tight as his cock jerked hard against Frank's stomach, precome sliding from the head, and he sucked in a hard breath.
Frank was looking at him when he opened his eyes, his own eyes dark and cheeks flushed. "If you - if you do. Gerard. God, anything, you wanna piss on me, fucking, you can, piss all fucking over me -"
Gerard pressed his head into the sweaty junction of Frank's neck and shoulder, hips working, cock sliding against Frank's hip at Frank's words - he shoved a trembling hand between them and wrapped his fingers around both his and Frank's cocks, fist easily encircling, and he jerked frantically as Frank's voice became thready. "Want it, Gerard, want your piss all over me, I want you to, hot and - fuck - all over me - aw, fuck, yeah," and Gerard bit down on Frank's collarbone as he came hard, groaning. The image Frank was painting scorched itself behind his eyes and his cock jerked hard as he shot jet after jet over Frank's stomach. Frank's words collapsed into a moan as he came, back arching up and cock sliding in Gerard's slick fist, his come mixing with Gerard's.
For a moment, there was no sound except for their harsh breathing. Gerard's body trembled with pleasant aftershocks. Frank took shaky breaths. “You know, I meant it,” he said quietly, words blurred by pleasure and sated exhaustion. “Anything, Gerard. Just fucking do it, I want it. Want anything you do, swear.”
--
In many ways, things between them didn't change. They still hunted, still bantered, still loved and annoyed each other fiercely. There just tended to be more sex involved. And much as Frank would want to deny it, there were more subtle touches of everyday affection or heated intent now the barrier had been broken down. Gerard hadn't really realised before how careful they were not to touch each other, except in pretty dire life-or-death situations. There had been so much fucking tension between them, he didn't know how they'd survived. Considering the way they could make each other come, that tension was still breaking pretty spectacularly.
Sometimes it was just sex, and sometimes Gerard needed - they both needed - that extra something. Frank jokingly referred to it as Gerard going all alpha on his ass, though Gerard was smug to note Frank didn't once joke when he was spread out and begging for it. It was a mutual understanding of when they bantered, fought, were themselves-just-fucking, and when it was different; when Gerard controlled the situation, brought Frank to a desperate, pleading edge and left him there, when he held him and pinned him and fucked him hard and left them both breathless and awed with what there was between them.
But whatever Frank had said, Gerard didn't want to push him. He'd know when the time was right for certain things, and when it wasn't. He'd trusted his gut instincts over his head or heart his whole life. And the one time he hadn't, it had taken him to California. He wouldn't made the same mistake twice.
--
One morning when Gerard woke up with a morning hard-on and a slight need to piss, he let Frank lazily blow him to take care of the first, and when he walked into the bathroom for the second, he looked at the toilet, looked away, took a quick shower, and walked back out.
He drank two glasses of water at breakfast and loosened his belt. Another glass of water at a rest stop in the middle of Illinois somewhere, a pass on using the public restroom, and his heart gave a flip and his stomach a slow burning roll as he squirmed and felt the hot building pressure. By dinner, the pressure was a constant dull, uncomfortable ache, and he drank another two glasses. His heart was pounding and his cock gave a few interested twitches in his jeans like it had been doing all day, the press of his bladder the only thing stopping him from sporting a full fucking boner ever since the idea - the knowledge that today was the day - had struck him that morning.
He was twitchy and practically fidgeting out of his skin by the time they got back to their motel, a drab place with beige walls and sad dusty plastic flowers on the table, and sad dusty paintings of flowers on the walls.
As soon as the door had closed, he swallowed and said, “Get on the bed.”
His voice was low and desperate and Frank stilled instantly and turned to him, eyes suddenly hot. Gerard felt anticipation and need thrumming through him as he watched Frank find that place inside himself for nights like this. His breathing was already erratic, and neither of them was even naked yet. “Clothes off. On your back.”
Gerard took off his own clothes, flinching as he undid his belt, the slight pressing movement against his swollen bladder sending little shocks through him. He couldn't help grimacing as he got up on the bed and straddled Frank's thighs, every movement jolting him and Jesus, he needed to pee so fucking badly. He'd imagined this before, seen his piss running over Frank's chest and stomach, and god, he nearly let go there, the need for relief so bad, but that wasn't what he wanted. Not yet. Imagining Frank covered in his come and piss, and seeing him laid out half hard and waiting beneath him, sent arousal thrumming through Gerard, swelling his cock so he couldn't have pissed if he wanted to - which he really fucking did.
He took a deep breath and wrapped one hand gently around his cock, the edge of the hot pressure underlying it all, making everything more sensitive, sensations more intense. He slowly jacked his cock and with his other hand took Frank's hand and guided Frank to massage his abdomen gently, rolling pressure against the full tightness, sending further spikes of pain-pleasure through him. God, he loved the combination of those two feelings, the sparks of pressure to come and pressure to piss clashing in him, knowing it would only get more intense.
Frank was watching him through heavy-lidded eyes, chest hitching as he realised what was happening here. He shuddered slightly, his cock twitching and swelling out to full hardness, rising against his belly. “Jesus, Gerard, do you even know what you look like?”
Gerard bit his lip and returned Frank's heated gaze, cock twitching in his grip as he tightened his fist and Frank increased the pressure on Gerard's bladder. God, this felt so fucking good, arousal spiralling hot up his spine and seeming to tingle across his entire body, cock not even fully hard despite the intense pleasure; the need to piss too strong and urgent to reach full hardness or come, yet cock not soft enough to piss, neither need satisfied and both growing stronger and feeling so goddamn amazing.
He imagined his piss flowing over Frank, all over him, running down his sides, along his ribs, pooling on his flat stomach, god, fuck, that picture making both needs even fucking stronger, god yes. And Frank was watching him all the way, body open and needy and waiting. Gerard tipped his head back and groaned long, squeezing the head of his cock harder, rocking forward into the sweet painful pressure of Frank's hand, and finally, yes, this was it, god, this was beyond sensation, he felt like he'd bypassed his normal orgasm threshold twice fucking over. This intensity was impossible, and the harder he needed to piss the harder he needed to come, stuck in a limbo of utter painful bliss, Frank writhing beneath him, but yes, here, his cock swelling at last to full hardness in his fist, the urgent hot pressure of his bladder no less but the urge to come winning out, drops of precome slipping out the head of his cock and slicking his fist and yes, oh fuck, he was going to, going to come, come all over Frank, paint him - his cock jerked hard again, now shiny with precome, so goddamn close - and then he was going to piss on him, all over him, he needed to so bad, but now, yes, his balls clenching as hot and tight as his bladder and a shout wrenched from his throat as come spurted from his cock, hips bucking and fist flying, each clench and thrust and jet of come just straining his screaming bladder more, the added sweet pain-pressure only making him come harder, streaking white all over Frank's belly and chest.
Gerard collapsed forward, elbows either side of Frank, and pressed his face to Frank's neck. His body shook with aftershocks, legs feeling sore and hollow with the force of his orgasm. He whimpered into Frank's soft sweat-damp skin as the pleasure of his orgasm receded and the painful need to piss shot through his body - it hurt more in this position, abdomen cramped over, and he struggled back upright, Frank whispering something through his uneven breathing - "Shh, shhh, it's okay, I got you, relax, do it, I want it, so fuckin' amazing, Gerard," and Gerard tilted his head back as he willed his body to relax. His cock swung heavy, half hard, resting now against Frank's stomach. Gerard took one deep breath and let it out, relaxing his muscles, and again, and then, fuck yes, he could feel it. It was so good, the promise of imminent release, pressure pushing and pushing to be let out, and a dribble leaked from the head of his cock, then another, then a steady trickle, pale gold running down over Frank's stomach and Gerard groaned with how impossibly good it felt. Like coming all over again, Jesus, yes.
He took hold of his dick, feeling the flow through it as he pissed in a hot steady stream, sluicing smoothly over Frank's perfect skin, piss washing away the streaks of come. Gerard's gut twisted with the sight, so much fucking hotter, more perfect than he could have imagined. The pleasure of release, the hot burn of ownership, of marking Frank so utterly, the low curl of arousal thrumming through him just from Frank writhing so prettily underneath him. The hot scent of his own piss mixing with the heavy musk of sex rose up, so heady and dirty Gerard felt dizzy with it.
Frank had been watching Gerard, eyes impossibly heated and mouth red and swollen and bitten, as Gerard had brought himself to agony and ecstasy above him, and now as Gerard turned his need fully on Frank, Frank was squirming and gasping as the hot piss washed over his skin. His belly muscles fluttered desperately as Gerard directed his cock lower on Frank's stomach, just short, for now, of Frank's dick. Standing up angry red, long hard by now, it jerked as Gerard ran his other hand down Frank's side and drifted over Frank's hot, tight balls. Strings of precome slid down Frank's shaft, drops shining on the head, Frank's need slicking up his cock. It gleamed wet, but, fuck, Gerard was going to make it even wetter, drench it, and he and Frank both groaned as his piss splashed down over Frank's cock, wetting the dark hair at the base, pooling in the cuts of his hips, running obscenely over his thighs. Frank bucked helplessly, moaning constantly now as he thrust his dick up into the hot stream as if for more friction than the soft, maddening flow could give.
Gerard lazily wrapped his free hand around Frank's cock, biting his lip and groaning at the mixed sensation of it hard against his palm and the smooth warmth of his own piss as it ran over his fingers. It took barely two strokes before Frank's moan cracked higher and then into silence, mouth open and fingers and toes clenching white as he shot hard, jets of white mixing with the last dribbles of Gerard's piss. Gerard suddenly shivered and collapsed forward onto Frank, feeling sated and done and bone-deep exhausted and happier than he could pretty much ever remember being.
Frank's chest hitched unevenly under his as he gasped, coming down from his orgasm, then he turned his head and pressed his face to the side of Gerard's.
"Jesus," he whispered, and Gerard couldn't help the laugh that shook through him. The mixture of come and urine slid between them as they shifted slightly; Gerard noted it with a mix of distant disgust, or maybe just recognition that he should be disgusted, and a wave of satisfaction, with a hint of a low, dirty arousal still burning in his gut. He smiled against Frank's skin.
“This is kinda gross now, though, big boy,” Frank said, grinning, looking oddly giddy despite the cooling mess of the bed. Gerard knew how he felt.
“Yeah,” said Gerard. “Shower.” He smacked Frank on the ass for good measure.
Gerard kind of realised something, after he and Frank had stood under the spray, washing each other. They cleaned up the room as best they could - the sheets and bedspread just needed fucking burning, but the motel had thoughtfully provided a plastic mattress cover, presumably for 'accidents', which gave Frank an evil smirk - and as they drove off, satisfied sleep tugging at the edges of Gerard's consciousness, he thought about it. He didn't need those boxes in his head anymore. This thing with Frank, it had reorganised him so fundamentally, and he hadn't even noticed until now that he'd let it all go, all that worry and not-thinking and twisting things up. His mind was at peace for the first time probably ever, Frank slotted in there like he'd always belonged, which of course he always fucking had, in every way. Gerard realised he finally just - felt right.
Now I feel dirty.