men in costume
After about two minutes of wriggling and trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep again, Frank gives up. He tries reading this book written in Victorian times that he got out of the school library because it looked really fucking smutty and he thought it'd be entertaining. He gets about five pages in before he starts zoning out so much that he has to put it down because he's just not absorbing a word of it. Also, there's no porn yet which is... a bit of a let down. Frank desperately wanted it to be about some secret gay brothel in London and for there to be filthy sex on like, the first page. There is none. He places it back on the night-stand.
Ray and Bob pretty much knew from the moment Frank kept making them watch Pirates of the Caribbean over and over again. They didn't mention it because, well, whatever. Frank will always be Frank, regardless - but Bob drew the line at Brokeback Mountain. He simply said, 'No,' and that was that. Fucking Ray had already seen it with his mom. ('Yeah, she's a major fan of men in costume as well, Frankie,' He'd had said, ruffling Frank's hair).
The next day, though, Bob got it for him on DVD. Frank loves Bob. He's pretty cool to know because he does awesome shit like that and gives the best piggy backs ever.
It's quarter to three in the morning, so Frank tries just laying there in the dark and hoping sleep will come to him eventually.
It doesn't.
Frank's phone flashes and he grabs it, but it's just a service message. He's about to throw it at like, his pillow or something, but has an idea. He mentally flips through his phonebook; He'd totally text Bob but he's pretty sure Bob would just yell down the phone and be grumpy in class. Ray sleeps like dead people; and Mikey's phone's broken because he texts so damn much.
He opens up a blank message, types:
heeey. you still up?
selects send to: Gerard
He waits impatiently, resting his cell phone on his belly because he likes how it tickles him when it vibrates. Frank goes for a piss and sees Gerard's reply when he comes back.
Ugh, well, I am now. Go to sleep, man.
caaan't. :( i've tried to read and everything...
Frank likes Gerard. He met him through Mikey (who he'd met through Ray, and was equal parts batshit crazy and totally brilliant). He seems a good person: one of those people who isn't necessarily nice but is definitely good. Also, he has this killer voice and anyone who's seen him perform - Frank had, with the help of a fake ID Bob got him on the internet, which actually looks nothing like him because he hasn't yet got any facial hair, but works anyway - wants a piece of him. Also he's a fucking senior, which just makes him even cooler and more awesome. So yeah, he was nice, Frank liked him and now they're pretty okay friends.
Frank stares at the ceiling until his phone blips again. Have you tried... warm milk? Gerard asks.
yup. And well, that's sort of a complete lie, but Frank doesn't even like milk. Even soy is shitty without the cookies.
Counting sheep?
yup. And yeah, that's a lie too, because sheep? No. Sheep creep Frank out. They have fucked up eyes and they fucking smell. He doesn't want to end up dreaming about them.
Play a little. Or something.
He can practically hear Gerard sighing; see him pinching the bridge of his nose in attempt to keep calm.
guitar? i'd rather keep my head, thanks. Frank's mom would yell. And then his dad would yell - because they're trying out this... support thing when disciplining him which is really fucking hilarious because they are both really different and stubborn. Then Frank'd probably start like, laughing because he is pretty exhausted, and then they'd just bazooka his face off.
Jeez, Frankie. Can you not just like, close your eyes?
That didn't work. that didn't work. oh come oooon. you were my last hope.
Oh so when everything else didn't work you came to me? Well, that makes me feel awesome.
Huh? ...uh...
Sarcasm. I was joking. Heh. Don't worry, I'm just being an ass.
sarcasm is hard to get on a text. you're not even funny anyway. Frank is sort of relaxing more. Another half an hour and he'll be out, he thinks.
Fuck off. I am hilarious, bitch.
Frank giggles. language, mr way
Mr Way, huh?
Frank's eyes go a little huge at that. Because is Gerard-- is Frank being hit on? It is really difficult to tell these things through text. Voice and facial expression are fucking important. Frank doesn't know if Gerard's annoyed or like, jacking off. Frank doesn't know what's happening. He's fifteen. Shit's still kind of new to him. He can feel the stirring in his belly, his body tense with anticipation. Sleep is momentarily forgotten. Because well... Gerard is hot. That's even if he wants to- wants to what? Oh, God. Oh fucking God, fucking insomnia, what the fuck is he getting into?
yeah, mr way. i'm totally gonna call you that from now on. mr way. Frank hits send quickly before he can change his mind. Swallows. It's a safe response, if Gerard was joking then Frank could be like, 'oh yeah me too' and not feel foolish. He hopes it's not though. He wants- he doesn't actually know what- he just-
Frank absolutely does not jump four feet in the air when his phone goes off.
That's kinda. Kinda kinky.
He takes a shaky breath - relief, maybe? But Gerard could still just be pissing around. Frank's getting hard, though. Of course he's getting hard. Seems to be happening every motherfucking time the wind changes direction at the moment. He spreads his legs a bit and tries not to whimper at the friction caused by just that tiny movement.
so you like it then? Frank's not even thinking anymore. Just typing it out with shaky hands and sending it real quick.
Kinda. Depends how you say it.
Frank slides his hand down his body and slowly starts to palm his cock through the thin cotton. It feels good - different somehow to when he does it over internet porn or images in his head.
how do you want me to say it?
Not like my History teacher. You can say it when you jerk off. All breathy and shit. I wouldn't mind that.
Frank can't stop the whimper that escapes his lips. He's leaking now and he wants to touch so badly.
like now? you want me to?
Yeah.
Frank shoves his hand past his waistband, straight onto his cock. He groans out into the dark, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He bites his lip as he very slowly strokes from base to tip. It feels really fucking good.
His phone vibrates, still there on his stomach. It startles him again because everything's so still in the middle of the night. Frank used to hate it. He likes activity and big cities and loud music and cars. He used to hate how it all stopped at night. He didn't want it to. He wanted it to be fun and loud all the time. But as he grew up, he learnt to accept the quiet and the dark. Understood that it was needed.
With his free hand he presses the button to open it, the message appears a second later: Wish I could hear you saying it.
Frank quickly types, call me? and starts freaking as soon as it tells him his message has been sent. His breathing gets a little erratic; he really doesn't know how to do this. He's heard about it but he can't fucking fathom how the fuck he got himself into it. But fuck it, right? All rational thought is just being shadowed over by his dick and Gerard and-
His phone vibrates and he scrambles to answer it but it's another text. Are you sure?
No. Nonono, he is not sure. He will say something stupid and Gerard will laugh at him and tell everyone and. Frank will want to die. But-
yeah.
He takes his hand off his dick and smacks both hands on his face. He grounds his palms into his eyes so hard it burns a little.
His phone buzzes again, but this time it keeps going, over and over and over and flashing madly. Frank flips it open and presses the little green receiver on his keypad. He clears his throat as discreetly as he can manage.
"Hi, uh, hey," Frank says. He has to try really hard to be quiet, because his parents' room is only down the hall and the walls are pretty thin. His dad snores and his mom's a deep sleeper but- there's always the chance. He is still pretty turned on but all he can feel is the blood rushing rapidly in his ears.
"Hey," says Gerard. His voice sounds pretty raw and gravelly, like when he's just come off stage.
It's a little awkward because Frank really isn't sure what to say and Gerard's not saying anything either. He starts to feel a little stupid and weird with the phone pressed to his ear and his other hand resting on his hip. He is still hard, though, which doesn't leave much room for embarrassment. Frank wants to come. Soon. Nervous and a little scared, he doesn't know what to do. If he should just start jacking off or say something or what.
After a couple more seconds, though, Frank hears Gerard's breathing stutter quickly followed by a quick short gasp.
It makes Frank whimper and he slowly starts stroking his cock. Slow but firm.
"Fuck, Frankie. Are you- fuh, fuck- are you touching yourself?" Gerard's voice is breathy and low in his ear, even through the static. It's almost too much.
Frank groans. Gerard sounds just like he does on stage but this is fucking better. It's all for Frank. He is doing this to him.
"Yeah, fuck yeah I am."
"Tell me. Tell me how it feels."
"Feels so good, Gee, so good."
"How fast are you going?"
"Not very. 'm jus’- going slow."
He can feel himself already getting closer to the edge. Frank wants it, wants to come really fucking badly but there's still a part of him that wants to drag it out a little.
"Go faster for me. Thumb the tip. Do it faster. Harder"
Well, fuck dragging it out.
Frank moans low and long and speeds up. He does what he's told and oh. Yeah, yeah, that. His hips are lifting off the bed now, meeting his hand clumsily. His chest is sweaty and his hand is slippery making it so much easier and better. Frank can tell his face is flushed, his mouth is hanging open - taking in short, quick breaths. The phone hot on his ear - Gerard's voice hot on his ear.
"Uh, Gee, Gee. 'm nearly. I'm, Gee," Frank gasps. He's whimpering and moaning and trying to muffle it by biting his lip but it's too much. He needs to--
"Yeah? Fuck, say it. Say it, Frankie."
"Fuckfuckfuck, fuck me, Mr. Way," Frank gasps, his hips lifting off the bed compeletly. He comes in thick hot spurts, seems to go on forever. His bed creaks loudly but he doesn't care. It just feels so fucking good.
After a fucking lifetime, he falls back onto the bed, sated and spent.
"Fuck, Frank. Fuck yeah," he hears from the phone which is right next to his ear on his pillow. He picks it up and hears Gerard come apart. Oh it is way hotter than he expected.
For a while, all Frank can here is the muffled sound he assumes to be Gerard trying to catch his breath. Probably laid out on his bed, limbs just all over the place like a rag doll, his hair sweaty and sticking to his head.
Then Gerard giggles. Fucking giggles.
"What, asshole?" Frank asks half-heartedly. He's too tired.
"I don't know. Just. This was awesome, right?"
Gerard sounds content and dopey. Frank kind of wants Gerard in his bed, next to him - so he can stroke his damp hair back and maybe watch him sleep. But whatever, maybe Gerard just does this kind of thing with all his other friends.
Frank just wants to go to sleep now.
"Yeah. Mmm, thank you. 'm tired now. Gonna' sleep," he yawns. "Thank you, Gee. Fuck, thank you,"
Frank hangs up and sleeps for the hour he has left before he has to get up for school.
*
Too soon, Frank's mom knocks on the door and yells, "School."
Frank opens his eyes, mumbles something and rolls over, trying to escape the light filtering through his blinds.
Something hard digs into his armpit and he groans, grabbing it. He giggles sleepily when he sees it's the shiny silver plastic of his cell. He has two text messages. He tries to wake up a little, slaps his cheeks lightly, and flips his phone open.
Oh God. What the fuck was that? What did we just do? What did -I- just do? You're like, my baby brother's friend. This is. Woah. Are you like, fourteen? I've just jacked off more or less TO a fourteen year old? God.
Frank frowns and opens the other one.
Well, so now I don't feel as bad as I probably should do. I don't fucking care. I like you. That was probably not the best way to start this - whatever "this" is - off. Just. Talk to me when you wake up, okay? X
Frank smiles and texts back, shut up, you dork. my mom makes lasagne every friday. it's veggie but it's delicious. wanna come? there's also popcorn and i have dvds of men in costume. i like you too. come over. (also, jerkwad, i'm fifteen) x
Frank gets up then and showers. He takes a paracetamol for his headache and checks his phone.
One new message from Gerard:
Okay. I'll bring my Batman pjs :) x
Frank giggles and starts digging around in his dresser for a clean-looking tee-shirt.