A Bullet Through A Flock Of Doves

Thirty Two - I'll Encourage Your Smiles/I'll Expect You Won't Cry

In Gerard's defense, Frank hadn't said no.

A few days had passed since the terrifyingly close encounter with Billie. Gerard had woken up to see Frank on the other side of the hotel room, back to him. The other was at the kitchenette, and Gerard could smell something which made his stomach rumble. His eyes grew steadily wider as he slipped out of the bed and towards Frank, who was piling something onto a plate, humming a song, and swaying his hips to the music in his head.

Gerard peeked over his shoulder and stared at the plate heaped with...fucking hell, was that French toast?

He asked as much, and Frank turned to look at him, face slightly nervous. "Uh," he said, "yeah? When we went to the store yesterday, I got some stuff." He gestured vaguely at the eggs, milk, powdered sugar, butter, bread, and cinnamon scattered across the counter. He chewed his lip. "Do you like French toast?"

Gerard continued to gaze at him with huge eyes, and then he pushed Frank up against the counter and kissed him firmly, a hand clutching the side of Frank's powdered sugar dusted face. Frank giggled at him and pushed a hand into his hair invitingly. Gerard ended up getting away from his mouth and licking the sugar off of his cheek instead, making Frank dissolve into laughter again. "I should cook more, then?" Frank asked, smiling.

"Nobody's ever cooked for me before," Gerard told him quietly, kissing his ear. Frank had gone still, though his head was inclined slightly towards Gerard's. "And they've especially never cooked my favorite breakfast."

"I'm just that good," Frank joked, but his hands in Gerard's hair were gentle and Gerard shivered.

"You are," Gerard agreed, going back in to kiss him properly this time. Frank responded immediately, opening up and asking for more. Gerard made a noise in his throat and pressed Frank harder against the counter, and the plate of French toast squeaked across the Formica with the harsh movement. Frank was laughing again, writhing away and saying breathlessly, "Let me turn the stove off, or the building will burn down."

"Mmph," said Gerard unhappily, but he waited until Frank had safely switched the stove off and put the plate of French toast in the microwave so it wouldn't get cold before kissing him again.

"Sure you don't want to eat first?" Frank said teasingly, but immediately went silent when Gerard pressed against him and he moaned in response, falling back on the bed and letting Gerard dominate the kiss which was quickly progressing to something else.

"Oh, I'll eat," Gerard said, grinning wolfishly and making Frank close his eyes and whine encouragingly. Gerard worked both of their boxers off, and sank down Frank's body, pleased to feel the new curves and extra flesh. Frank wasn't such a skinny little thing now, and his lovehandles were more pronounced and easier for Gerard to tug at, making Frank whimper and Gerard kiss his small belly in response. "So fucking pretty," he murmured, and Frank blinked at him but remained silent.

It felt like a routine when Gerard took Frank into his mouth, humming some Metallica song and drawing his lips back from his teeth, biting a little whenever Frank's hips moved upwards. The weight and heat on his tongue was familiar, and so was the broken off groan Frank made when Gerard pulled off, leaving the other's cock glistening with spit and harder than before.

He pushed Frank's thighs apart, feeling the tiny tremors against his fingertips when he did so. Frank was still quiet, so he went about his task equally silently, licking his hand and slipping two fingers inside of Frank. He twisted them a little, holding his legs down with his other hand. Frank let out a soft breath when Gerard added another, but other than that, there was no response. Gerard removed his fingers and started to line himself up, but Frank muttered, "Lube."

It took a while for that to sink in, because usually saliva was enough - Frank was well beyond being a virgin and it never seemed to bother him much. But Gerard just shrugged and crawled off the bed to dig in his bag, triumphantly producing some mint lube, slicking himself up, and going back to Frank, who gave him a tiny smile.

Gerard kissed him and pushed in, swallowing Frank's low sounds and moving slowly at first, gradually speeding up until he was rocking in and out at their usual pace - nowhere near slow, but just fast enough to be more than a little rough. Frank was moving back, but it was less enthusiastic than usual, and he was making less noise, too. Gerard nuzzled almost questioningly at his jaw, but Frank turned his head to the side against the pillow and said softly, "I'm fine."

Gerard furrowed his brow, but he really couldn't remain anxious in this position for very long, so he continued in the automatic movements of his hips, his lips dropping occasional kisses to Frank's forehead. Still, something felt off. He realized what it was when he dropped down against Frank's still body - Frank wasn't fully hard anymore. He blinked in confusion and snuck his hand down to check. Frank's mouth opened in a weak gasp when he squeezed, and his cock jerked a little in Gerard's hand. But something else was happening here...it had to be. Gerard shook it off again, though, thrusting and rubbing Frank's hips.

Frank was making noises now that Gerard was deep enough to hit his prostate, but they weren't the noises he was used to. Gone were the husky, breathy moans and groans - instead Frank let out short, sharp cries and trembled underneath him. He was gritting his teeth, and the tendons in his neck stood out sharply. Gerard closed his eyes and tried to ignore it. Frank was fine. He was fine. Gerard hadn't done anything to hurt him.

He was starting to go faster when Frank whispered harshly, "Gerard," and Gerard paused and opened his eyes. He stared at him. Frank was really fucking pale. That wasn't normal.

"What?" he asked, still slowly rolling his hips.

Frank swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. "Fucking....doves. Doves."

It took a few moments for Gerard to process what Frank had just said; sort through the bewilderment, then the confusion, then shock, and lastly the fear. He rolled off of Frank at once, his whole body held stiff and uncertain, edging away from the other. Frank was laying on his back, chest rising and falling slowly. His eyes were still tightly closed.

Gerard didn't fucking know what to do. He never even thought Frank would use the safeword, and certainly not for something like this. This wasn't...this was just sex, no extras involved. He was suddenly no longer hard or even horny at all - just really fucking worried and...and scared. Frank was just lying there, and Gerard didn't know whether to go away from him or get closer to him again.

He waited for what seemed like a long time. He thought maybe Frank would roll over or get off of the bed, or maybe slap him or insult him, but none of those things happened. What Frank actually did was make a tiny sound and curl up next to Gerard, burying his face against Gerard's sweaty chest.

Gerard bet that Frank could hear his fast heartbeat from where he was snuggling against his breastplate, and at first Gerard thought that Frank was licking him or something, but when he took Frank's face gently in his hands and looked him in the eyes, he saw that Frank was crying.

Gerard's stomach lurched and at once he was gathering Frank up and embracing him, stroking all the skin he could reach and shushing him. Frank was sobbing now. The sounds were somewhat constricted, like it was difficult for him to breathe, and Gerard rubbed his back and made a distressed sound. That was probably what made Frank start talking, his voice watery like his tears.

"Hurts," he choked out, looking desperately at Gerard. "Fucking hell," he snapped, wiping hastily at the tears and looking away from him furiously. "He fucking hurt me."

That was when it all made sense, and Gerard was sure his face probably went white as a sheet. Fucking Billie. Gerard should've known; he should've actually thought about it before acting. Goddammit. Now Frank was crying, and when Gerard glanced at the sheets farther down the bed, he felt sick when he saw the blood spotting them. Frank had been bleeding, and when Gerard touched himself with a shaky hand, when he pulled it away it was stained a faint coppery red.

"Oh, god," Gerard whispered almost to himself, closing his eyes and moving away from Frank. "What have I done?"

Frank watched him, perplexed and upset. "Gerard? I-"

"No, get away from me," Gerard said sharply, and Frank shrank back, even paler than before.

"Are you....are you angry at me?"

Gerard looked up, pained, at Frank. "No. I....I should just leave."

"Gerard? Wait, Gerard, no!" Frank was sitting up in the bed, wincing but looking determined. "Don't leave me, listen, whatever I did, I'm sorry-"

"You didn't do anything!" Gerard shouted, standing now and casting a shadow over the bed. Frank looked so small and vulnerable among the darkness. "I did this! I did this to you! I should have thought about...I should have remembered that...I'm sorry, fuck, this is my fault." He stumbled away, and Frank was still crying, but he was trying to get off of the bed, trying to move towards Gerard.

"What? Gerard, this isn't...you didn't do this!" Frank looked at the blood on the sheets and gestured at himself. "That was him! And he's gone now, okay, so calm down, please."

"He isn't gone!" Gerard yelled, hands clenching into fists. "He left marks all over you; he left marks inside of you! He fucking broke you."

Now it was Frank's turn to get angry, finally managing to get off of the bed, standing unsteadily and glaring at Gerard. "Broke me?! He didn't fucking break me. I'm not...I'm not breakable," he spat. "You think getting raped is a new thing for me? That wasn't the first time, and it probably won't be the last."

Gerard was stunned into silence, but he murmured, "I raped you."

Frank's fury evaporated into astonishment. "What? You? You didn't rape me."

Gerard took a step back when Frank took one forward, running a hand through his hair fretfully. "But you-"

"Gerard," Frank said, and his voice was softer as he walked to Gerard. Gerard didn't back away this time, and he felt Frank's hand on his face in a daze. "You didn't rape me. I told you to stop, and you stopped. None of them stopped."

Gerard turned his face into Frank's palm and kissed it. "I'm sorry that I hurt you."

"You just reopened the wounds, I think," Frank said quietly. "It doesn't hurt so much anymore."

"I'm also sorry I stopped you from eating the French toast," Gerard added as Frank led him back towards the bed wearily.

"The French toast can wait," Frank mumbled, collapsing into the bed and pulling Gerard down with him. "Spoon me?"

Gerard kissed the back of his neck in answer, then said, "One sec."

Frank blinked and rolled back over as Gerard got out of the bed, going into the bathroom and coming out with a damp washcloth. Frank huffed at him, but Gerard frowned. "If we don't clean it, it'll get infected."

"I've had worse," Frank said grumpily, but let Gerard slide in behind him and wipe the blood away before tossing the cloth off of the bed, holding Frank to him and kissing him to sleep.