A Bullet Through A Flock Of Doves

Twenty Eight - And I'll Be Granting Your Permission

Gerard really fucking loved Las Vegas.

Firstly, any place which had a sign which welcomed you to the 'fabulous' city was bound to be fabulous. Secondly, on their way driving in, basically every billboard they passed could easily count as porn, and everywhere were bars, hotels, casinos, strip clubs, sex shops, restaurants laden with hookers - it truly was Sin City, and Gerard was already loving every second of it.

Frank had his nose not-quite pressed to the glass (both of them were still wary about the cleanliness of the car) and was staring a little too much at several of the clubs in particular which they passed (and the occupants of said clubs). Gerard narrowed his eyes but had to focus on driving, so he let it slide, trying to remember the way to the particular-

"That hotel is pink," Frank said, and Gerard veered sharply to the left, where he was pointing. There it was, the Flamingo Hotel and Casino. Frank paused. "Gerard?" he asked cautiously, "Why are we going towards the pink hotel?"

"Not pink," Gerard said primly, "fuchsia."

"You say it like they're different," Frank snorted. "Same difference, Gerard."

"No, they're made up of completely different-"

"Oooh, look at her," Frank said very loudly, cutting him off and goggling a woman who was obviously a prostitute, dressed head to toe in black lace and nothing else.

Gerard smacked the back of his head. "Shut the fuck up," he snapped.

Frank stuck his tongue out. "What? You mad you don't have boobs? Hey, if you were a dominatrix you might get some more cooperation from me - that'd be hot."

Gerard lowered his brows. "I'm not getting a sex change for you, and I honestly don't see you finding what I do not hot."

Frank considered that. "True. Still, if you were a girl-"

"Fucking no," Gerard huffed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and pulling into the parking lot for the Flamingo. "I'm fine with my current gender."

"But then you'd have boobs, and I could touch them and it'd be so great..." Frank trailed off dreamily.

"I have a dick, you can touch that all you want," Gerard told him, rolling his eyes and finally finding a parking spot.

Frank was whining about it not being the same or something when Gerard got out of the car and dragged the other along with him. Fucking whiny bisexual, seriously. Frank should consider himself lucky - really fucking lucky, especially considering why they were here. That sobered Gerard up considerably, and he ignored the other's flirtatious looks and actions as he checked into the hotel.

He got them a 'Flamingo GO room,' whatever the hell that meant. It was the most expensive, but Gerard had resources, namely known as years of very good gambling and funds from the Knights.

He also managed to get them a room with a hot tub.

xoxoxo

Frank sort of pounced on him as soon as they set their meager belongings down in the hotel room and closed the door.

Gerard couldn't say he was really surprised, but it was still a little abrupt, and he had to disentangle himself from the other when he found himself in danger of being pushed onto the bed as opposed to him doing the pushing - which was, of course, how it was supposed to be.

Frank pouted at him and Gerard rolled his eyes, turning away to do something more productive with their luggage, but Frank would not be deterred - when Gerard bent down, he shoved himself right up against Gerard's ass, wrapping his hands determinedly around his waist. Gerard's eyes widened - Frank was really fucking hard, Jesus.

"Frank-"

"You said I could touch your dick all I wanted," Frank reminded him, lips tickling his ear. Gerard straightened up, turning to face him so that they were looking at each other, Frank's eyes half lidded and his mouth slightly open, expression distracted and pupils dilated.

Gerard set his jaw, an idea blooming in his twisted mind. "Yes," he said in a quiet, different kind of voice. Frank knew what kind of voice it was, too. "You may. But," he warned, "you can't touch your own."

Frank's eyes narrowed, the lust replaced by annoyance. "That's not fair."

Gerard raised an eyebrow. "I never said it was."

Frank made a cute, frustrated face, a line appearing before his (perfect) eyebrows, eyes angry and pretty little mouth opening and closing before he asked hopefully, "Will you touch it?"

Gerard looked at him lazily. "Depends."

Angry again. "Depends on what?!" he spat.

"Depends on if you're good or not."

"Promise?" Frank asked suspiciously.

"Promise," Gerard replied smoothly.

"Fine," Frank agreed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Wait," said Gerard, eyes glinting as he turned back to the luggage again.

"Wait?" Frank spluttered, hands on his hips. "Wait for what?"

"For me to get back."

"Back?! Back from where? You're right here!"

"Despite what you may think, Frank," Gerard told him, "I have more important things to do than to have sex with you."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Like getting us a new car, gambling for more money, securing reservations at hotels and shows, and making sure the government is off our back."

Frank frowned and looked down. "Oh."

"So," Gerard said, grinning devilishly, "after I've finished all of that, then I'll come back and you won't have to wait anymore."

"Okay," Frank agreed readily, bouncing on his heels.

"But there are certain conditions," Gerard said.

"Like?"

"Like the fact that you have to wait for me in the hot tub."

"The whole time? No! I'll get all pruney," Frank said, crossing his arms.

"Like I care," Gerard said loftily, and Frank's frown increased. "Oh, and another thing - you can't touch yourself. At all."

"Okay," Frank said again, but the little fucker was lying and Gerard knew it.

"I thought you might say that," Gerard said, casually taking something from the bag and hiding it behind his back. Frank noticed but just gave him a curious look, not having seen the item. "Now, let's make sure you get into the hot tub, alright?"

Frank sighed and let Gerard herd him into the bathroom, filling the tub and pushing him in after he'd stripped. Gerard felt even more evil after seeing exactly how hard Frank really was already, and it made something warm form in his gut.

"Is this alright?" Frank asked huffily, leaning against the back of the hot tub and stretching his arms up, throwing the rest of his body into high definition.

"Needs something more," Gerard said, and then he seized Frank's outstretched arms and wrapped the cuffs he'd hidden behind his back (real cuffs this time, although they were padded) around Frank's pale wrists, cuffing him to the towel rack.

"Fuck!" Frank exclaimed, pulling at the bonds and glaring at Gerard. "Fucking seriously? You don't trust me not to jerk off?"

"Nope," Gerard said cheekily, drawing back and watching him squirm with satisfaction. "And don't even think about trying to get off - I'll know."

"This blows," Frank growled.

"Not yet," Gerard said, laughing and dancing away when Frank tried to kick out at him. Frank only succeeded in slamming his head against the porcelain of the tub.

"I hate you."

"Nah," Gerard said, winking at him before slamming the door shut, "you really don't."

xoxoxo

Gerard was quite pleased with himself, actually.

That's why he was smirking when he rented a sports car for them - a 2013 Mazda MX-5 Miata; black. It was small and beautiful, kind of like Frank.

That's why he was confident enough to win all the rounds of poker he played at the club called The Red Lion, ignoring the suggestive looks of the strippers on their poles across the room. He wanted to stalk up to them, shove the poker chips into their invitingly opened mouths, and say to them, "Fuck off, because I have someone, and he's currently at my every beck and call, handcuffed in a hot tub and hard as hell."

But he suppressed the urge and proceeded to win another round.

After his pockets were full and his ego was significantly bloated, he continued on to several clubs and restaurants, asking around for the best shows and attraction Sin City had to offer. He ended up with several Cirque du Soleil show dates, a few band performances, five restaurant reservations, the name of a well known gay bar, a male strip club, and for Frank's benefit, tickets to some show called X Burlesque which would probably interest Gerard very little, but then Frank would see all the boobs one could ever want and would shut up about Gerard being a girl.

Then he retreated to a quiet corner and called Hayley - he'd spoken with her about Leto, and she was on his side. It was good to have allies. She told him Leto hadn't gotten wind of what he was doing yet and didn't even know he'd left California. Hayley promised she would continue to lead him off of their tracks, and he thanked her profusely.

And then, three long hours later, he stepped into the elevator in the Flamingo Hotel and Casino, pressed the button of their floor, and went up.

xoxoxo

Gerard opened the door to the room and was pleased to find that the bathroom door was still closed and locked. He didn't go in immediately, instead stripped off his own clothes first, rolling his shoulders and thinking for a moment before unlocking the door, turning the knob, and going to the hot tub.

The jets were still going, and Frank was still there, handcuffed to the towel rack, glowering at the water and shifting with discomfort every so often. He seemed so wrapped up in trying to keep control of himself that he hadn't noticed Gerard's return.

"Hello," Gerard said, hands on his bare hips, tilting his head at Frank when the other looked up at once, eyes wild. "Missed me?"

Frank made a growly noise deep in his throat. "Fucking touch me. You promised."

Gerard didn't answer, instead slid a hand down his own body, moaning softly when he closed his fist around his cock. Frank's eyes were drawn to it automatically, and he made a quiet noise of longing before looking back up at Gerard's face, tugging lightly at the cuffs once more. "Please," he whispered, bowing his head, and Gerard's hand tightened, cock throbbing at the sight. "Fuck. Please, Gerard."

And fine, Gerard couldn't really refuse that. He climbed into the hot tub and on top of Frank, who gasped and rolled his head back against the wall when their crotches brushed together, making low whimpering sounds and jerking his hips up against Gerard, trying to rub off against him. Gerard still didn't touch him, even though Frank looked strangled with lust, and his desperation might have brought a weaker man to tears.

Gerard lifted himself off of the other so that there was no contact between them, and Frank whimpered again, his eyes wide and pleading with Gerard so close and yet so far. "Shh," Gerard said, even though he wasn't really saying anything. He stroked two fingers down Frank's inner thigh under the water, and there was an easy slide when he slipped them inside of the other, crooking them against his prostate. A choked groan came from Frank and his cock twitched visibly when Gerard added another finger, stretching him open even though it was hardly necessary.

"God," Frank said, eyes squeezing shut. "Oh, god."

Gerard pulled his fingers out and lined himself up, pushing in slowly and leaning his head close to Frank's ear. "What did you do while I was gone, Frankie? Thought about what I was gonna do to you? Tried to get out of those cuffs? Fucked the air, maybe...pretty little hips thrusting into nothing."

Frank trembled and tensed as Gerard entered him fully, going deeper with short, fast thrusts. Frank moaned again and again, louder whenever his cock brushed Gerard's wet belly, the warm water making everything slicker, smoother, and hotter. Frank's hair was wet and droplets glistened over his skin. His tattoos looked like mirages under the water, and when Gerard nosed over his neck, he leaned his head back gratefully. Gerard nibbled and sucked dark trails across the white of his throat, and Frank's skin vibrated under his touch as he made plaintive noises. Gerard's lips were wet and Frank's neck stretched out further for their perusal.

Gerard moved faster in and out of the other, the water splashing whenever their hips slammed together, and Frank spread his legs wider in reply to more easily accommodate Gerard between them. That gave him the perfect angle, and he kept hitting Frank in a place which made the other's muscles tighten reflexively around him, and eventually it become too much and he released, body arched over Frank's and sweaty hair hanging in damp ebony strands.

Frank was like a furnace underneath him when he pulled out, and he took a second or two just to appreciate how gorgeous he looked right now, still cuffed, still incredibly hard, covered in water and with his legs spread wide and inviting.

Gerard lunged forward and undid the cuffs, throwing them aside. Frank's body curled in instinctively, and he reached down to touch himself, pausing, though, before he did so.

"Do I have permission?" he asked in a shot voice, but he actually fucking asked, even though he'd been waiting for hours, and Gerard couldn't help it. He smashed him up against the wall, kissing him heatedly and in response taking Frank's hand and wrapping it around his neglected cock. The noise Frank made at that was nothing short of angelic, and Gerard guided him, getting his hand into a rhythm, before making use of his own hands and playing with Frank's balls, slippery and easy.

Frank gargled out a stream of curses at that and pressed his lips and tongue further against Gerard's mouth, shoving forward into his own hand and Gerard's palm, moaning uninhibitedly when Gerard replaced Frank's hand with his, using the hot tub's water as lube. Frank was twitching and cried out when Gerard slicked water down the vein on the side, swirling it around the head and humming into Frank's mouth. Frank was breaking away from the kiss, wrapping himself around Gerard and panting, heaving for breath. His head was hanging over Gerard's shoulder as he clung to the other, his breath warm and moist, hurrying as he came closer.

Gerard squeezed hard and wrapped an arm securely around Frank's body, fingers combing affectionately and little roughly through his hair. Frank purred and moved back into the touch, but his hips were still moving, and it was obvious when his orgasm hit, his spine relaxed under Gerard's hand and his head falling back limply, mouth open and eyes shut. He looked like porn, Gerard thought, but better, much better, because when you watched porn, you didn't get to actually feel it, to have the satiny, tattooed skin under your fingertips. You didn't get to smell the sex-sweat-soap mix, or feel the mugginess in the room, the steam rising up from the water. You didn't get to bury your face into Frank's marked neck, drag his lolling head up to your chest and hold him close. You didn't get to touch every inch of his languid body like it was something precious, but most of all, you didn't get to dry off with him and take him to the hotel bed, curling the length of your body around him, lying like spoons in the darkness and hearing his soft, peaceful breaths as he fell asleep.

Gerard did get to, and it made him feel, for once, like the luckiest person in the world.