A Bullet Through A Flock Of Doves

Thirty Nine - A Kiss And I Will Surrender

  On Frank's twenty-sixth birthday, they were farther south this time, in Winslow, Arizona. The city was bigger than the places they usually went, but that was good - it was easier to blend in. The hotel they stayed, La Posada Hotel, in was squat and made of adobe - it was probably the most cliche desert building Gerard had ever seen. Then again, they were smack in the middle of a desert, so that would make sense.

The city was festooned with Halloween decorations - jack 'o lanterns leering from windowsills and fake spiderwebs strung up in trees. There were actual trees there - actual trees whose leaves changed color - and Gerard was glad they'd ended up in Winslow when he saw Frank's grin. "It's almost like Jersey," Frank said quietly, and Gerard smiled with him. They were both from Jersey - Gerard couldn't remember them both saying it to each other, but somehow they just knew.

When Gerard took Frank out for dinner at the hotel's restaurant, the Turquoise Room, it was practically empty. Everyone was out trick-or-treating. There were a few other couples scattered here and there, but otherwise, their booth was quiet and private. The lighting was dim, the room was hushed, and they couldn't keep their eyes off of each other - it was like a romance movie, Gerard thought, and it should have been sickening...but it wasn't. For once, he liked the cliche date.

The food was expensive, but Gerard assumed it was pretty good - he was focusing less on the food and more at Frank, who was in some ways distracted and in other ways very much not. He kept glancing at Gerard and smiling sort of secretly - like it was a smile he didn't want anybody else to see. They didn't talk much, which was out of the ordinary - and they didn't argue at all, either. They just sat there and ate and Frank looked at him with sleepy green eyes that seemed to know something Gerard didn't.

When they were finishing up on the main meal, Gerard called to their waiter, "It's his birthday!" and as he did, Frank looked up, and Gerard blinked back at his puzzling expression - Frank's eyes were no longer sleepy, but shining - actually shining - and they were fixed on Gerard like he was the sun and the moon and the stars all rolled into one - and Gerard was taken aback. Because nobody in their right mind ever looked at him like that - like they couldn't think of anyone else they'd rather be with. So he just smiled back weakly and hunched his shoulders as they shared the creme brulee the waiter brought for them, "free of charge for the birthday boy, happy Halloween!"

The stained glass windows in the restaurant sparkled, casting light across them - blood red, cadmium blue, saffron yellow. It gave them the appearances of two patchwork creatures, glittering eyes watching each other with frightening intensity, though there was a certain softness between them.

xoxoxo

Back in the hotel room, they both sat on the bed, Frank with his legs crossed and Gerard kneeling, tilting his head at him in question. Gerard had already decided what his (first) birthday present to Frank would be, and he took a deep breath before asking, "What do you want to do?"

Frank jerked out of his stupor, and when his eyes landed on Gerard, they were wide. "You're asking me?"

"Unless there's somebody in the room who I don't know about, yes." Gerard laughed, though a little nervously. "So. Today's your day, and your night."

Frank was quiet, and then he licked his lips thoughtfully. His face sharpened and he nodded decisively. "I want to have sex with you."

Gerard blinked. "Well, that's certainly very detailed and not narrow at all, I don't think I can manage that, sorry." His voice was spiked with sarcasm.

"No, I." Frank paused and closed his eyes, as though steadying himself. "I want to...to..."

Gerard stilled. "You want to fuck me." It sounded even more daunting when he said it out loud.

Frank cringed. "No...I mean, yes, but I don't...I just want to be inside of you, please, Gerard, and you can ride me or be in control or whatever - I don't care, just please, please..."

Gerard narrowed his eyes at him. "You don't...you don't want it because of the control?" That didn't make any sense. Why else would Frank want to top?

"No," Frank whispered, shaking his head. "I just want to be close to you in a way I never have been before."

Gerard stared at him for a long while, looking for any hint of selfishness or malignity or dishonesty, but he came up short. Frank wasn't lying. He didn't want to use Gerard, or to hurt him like he had with Frank. Frank just wanted the intimacy, and Gerard wasn't going to deny him that.

"Okay," Gerard said.

Frank looked shocked. "Really?"

"Yes, really. But I'm riding you. Okay?"

"Yes, that's...yes, yes, please." Frank nodded eagerly, smiling uncertainly.

"Get undressed, I'll get...whatever." Gerard waved a hand awkwardly, sliding off the bed and going to his bag, although this time, his hands were shaky instead of firm and practiced as he rifled through it. Fuck, he was actually doing this.

More importantly, fuck, he was actually doing this with Frank.

"Do you, um, need help over there?"

"No," Gerard called back, cursing under his breath and, after a moments hesitation, he got the stronger lube he'd gotten recently. He hadn't thought it would be used on himself, but...then again, he'd probably need it. It'd been seven years, after all.

He briefly considered using a condom, but it was too late for that anyway at this point, so, clutching the bottle of lube, he made his way back over to Frank, who had naked and was waiting, sitting against the headboard. Gerard dumped the lube onto the bed and stripped off his shirt and jeans, leaving his boxers on for the time being. On second thought, he went back to the bag and got out Frank's collar and the handcuffs. He could do this; it would be fine.

When he settled on the bed again, above Frank, he fastened the collar and Frank let him easily, stretching his neck and making a soft sound. But when Gerard got the cuffs and prepared to cuff Frank to the headboard, Frank pushed them away, shaking his head. Gerard lowered his brow. "Frank," he warned, but Frank shook his head again, frowning.

He whispered, "I want to be able to touch you, please," and Gerard couldn't really say no to that.

Frank smiled at him when Gerard reluctantly tossed the cuffs aside, and boldly moved his hands to Gerard's hips, tugging a little at the waistband until Gerard got the message, lifting his hips up and wriggling out of them, tossing them to the ground. Nothing was really different from usual yet - Gerard was still on top of Frank, although now his thighs were bracketing the other's hips instead of vice versa.

Frank was fully hard already, and somehow that made Gerard more anxious - they weren't going to be able to draw this out with teasing and foreplay. Frank was ready now, and it would be wrong for Gerard to draw it out and torture him on his own birthday just because he was scared shitless.

"You okay?" Frank asked him, looking a little worried. "We don't...we don't have to." His face was reluctant, but his words were honest, and knowing that he would stop - even when the other man never had - calmed Gerard a little.

Gerard nodded, settling his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression. "You don't mind if I do this myself, do you?" He gestured to the lube, raising his eyebrow. Frank's eyes darkened a little.

"You...oh, god. Yeah. Okay. That's...that's fine." Frank looked more than fine with it. Gerard allowed himself to smirk just a little, to act like this was all happening as it normally did, even when he uncapped the lube and squirted...well, maybe more than necessary on his fingers. Maybe it was absolutely necessary. Gerard's ass was not a virgin, but it might as well have been for the amount of time he'd gone without letting anyone so much as touch him there.

Still, it didn't hurt when he dropped a hand between his legs and searched for his hole, pressing lightly before shoving in. It definitely didn't hurt, although it was cold and unfamiliar. Gerard made a muffled sound, his thighs tightening around Frank, who was whimpering and staring with his mouth half-open. Emboldened by his reaction, he added another finger, and fuck, yeah, there was definitely a stretch then. Gerard gave himself a few seconds - this was fine, he was fine, relax. When there was just an ache instead of a burn, he pushed a little deeper, twisting his fingers with frustration.

"Christ, Gerard," Frank breathed, his hands fisted into the sheets, knuckles white. "Fuck, you're hot."

Gerard's head snapped up to look at him, and he was panting a little, his eyes unfocused as he added a third digit. "Yeah?" he asked, and his voice was all trembly and breakable sounding, like it required impossible effort to form the words.

"Yeah," Frank told him, and Gerard moved his hips down onto his hand sharply, and fuck, fuck, yes, that was his prostate. Oh, fuck. He might've moaned embarrassingly loudly, but it had been seven years since he or anyone else had so much as brushed against that spot, and Gerard already knew he was so, so screwed - literally.

"Gerard, shit, shit, please get on me, please, please," Frank was babbling and grasping for him, and Gerard scissored his own fingers and hissed, eyes squeezing shut. It seemed like there was no way in hell that Frank's gorgeous, short but plump dick was going to fit - but Gerard knew he'd handled far worse.

"Yeah, yeah," Gerard said, pulling his fingers out with a pop and a wince. He reached for the lube again, this time slathering as much as possible on and wrapping his fingers around Frank's cock, thumb slipping over the head, watching the lube drip down his knuckles. Frank moaned, scrabbling at the sheets and tilting his head back. "Gonna ride you so hard," Gerard whispered, lips brushing his ear, almost like he was kissing it. Frank whined.

"Please fucking do."

Gerard nodded, still gripping the base of Frank's dick, positioning himself above the other, closing his eyes when he felt the wet tip of Frank's cock against him. "Carpe fucking diem," he muttered, and, guiding Frank with one hand and holding himself open with the other, he sank down, jaw clenched.

"Fuck!" Frank groaned, squirming under him like it would kill him to stay still. "So tight, so tight, god, please move, Gerard, Gerard, Gerard."

"I heard you the first time," Gerard growled, his nails sinking into Frank's hips in reflex of the pain. Because now? Oh yes, now it definitely hurt. The burn was back in full force, and he could feel it all the way to his toes, up his spine - a shock whenever he moved. He slowly opened his eyes to stare at Frank, who was breathing hard and still looked shocked to have his cock in Gerard's ass. Gerard was still kind of getting over that, too.

"Does it hurt? Fuck, I'm sorry," Frank gritted out, although he looked less sorry and more like he was about to explode from arousal.

"Just wait a little bit, okay?" Gerard shifted and cursed, and Frank's cock twitched. He cursed again. It wasn't that he was in total agony - it still felt good in a completely overwhelming sort of way; and he was still hard. "Yeah, just...okay." Gerard undulated his hips experimentally, and Frank reacted at once, moaning throatily and thrusting back up, burying himself deeper. "Mmm," Gerard murmured, rolling his body again, harder this time, and the outcome was worth it for the way Frank's whole body tensed and his hips kicked up again, harder and more coordinated.

"Th-thank you," Frank gasped, and wow, that was not something Gerard would've imagined coming out the mouth of someone he was riding.

"De nada," Gerard tried to say in a bored tone, but Frank was getting into a short, sharp rhythm, and it was hard to concentrate, so his voice just ended up sounding completely wrecked and shivery instead.

"No, I just," Frank said, bringing his hands up to stroke down Gerard's sides in a way which made him shudder, "you didn't have to do this." Gerard stared at him. Was he kidding? Frank was Frank and it was his birthday and he wanted this - Gerard wouldn't deny him that, not after all they'd been through. "I mean I just," Frank paused, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I just don't want you to feel obliged to do this for me."

"If you're still talking, I must not be as good at this as I thought," Gerard snapped, and he lifted himself up before sliding down again, rocking in Frank's lap and reaching forward until he could bring their lips together sloppily.

Frank was writhing again, his sounds buzzes between their lips, and when he broke away he whispered, "But if you don't want this, then-"

"I want this," Gerard said brashly, taking Frank's hand and fumbling between them before he found his own cock. Frank's fingers circled around it hesitantly, and Gerard's eyes flashed, challenging. "I want this," he repeated, bouncing a little before finding his balance and arching back, screwing himself on Frank as hard as he could.

Frank stopped talking and started moaning instead.

Gerard usually talked when he topped, but generally he wasn't a verbal bottom. His old boyfriend hadn't wanted him to talk while he fucked him, so maybe that had something to do with it - but having the certainty that Frank wouldn't punish him for making noise made him a little louder than usual.

Not as loud as Frank, who was thrashing and jerking him off and complimenting seemingly everything on Gerard's body in between profanity. But Gerard contributed his share of mewls and harsh exhales and soft moans, arching his back and opening his mouth with a high cry when Frank finally hit his prostate.

It wasn't careful, neat sex, if such a thing existed. It was raw and messy and clumsy, but it felt good - better than Gerard remembered it. He was so glad he hadn't cuffed Frank - the other couldn't stop touching him, smoothing hands down his back and keeping a hand in Gerard's hair the whole time, tightening his fingers in it whenever Gerard made a sound he must've especially enjoyed. It made him feel wanted. It made him want Frank to feel even better, and he started moving so fast that despite the lube, he could feel the friction, the volts of ecstasy coursing through his veins like they were copper wire, powering him with the pleasure they carried.

Every time Frank hit his prostate, which was happening more often than not now, his thighs would slide around Frank's hips, slick with sweat as his body lurched and he keened in a strident voice he did not recognize as his own. But he'd never - he'd never felt it like this. Gerard let himself collapse as his muscles started protesting, like a marionette with cut strings, slumping over Frank and licking his neck around the collar - long, wet stripes. Frank said his name in a low whine, thrusting up and squeezing Gerard's dick - and that was it, Gerard was coming with a sound akin to a sob and a steady mumble ofFrank, Frank, Frank, like a mantra in his head.

Gerard knew Frank still had to get off; knew he had to help Frank follow him over the edge, but he was so tired. Frank bucked up persistently, but Gerard was like a dead-weight, restricting his movement. "Gerard, you've gotta - " He broke off, frustrated, and Gerard made a quiet noise, trying to find it in himself to move, but everything hurt.

Then Frank's eyes brightened, and he was nudging Gerard off of him, until Gerard, startled, fell onto his back, now with Frank hovering over him, mouth open slightly as though in wonder. Gerard's eyes narrowed when Frank gently took his legs, moving him so that his thighs were spread again. Gerard huffed and tried to wriggle away - he was going to ride Frank, not actually bottom - but Frank looked at him with wild, desperate eyes and told him, "Don't worry, please, I've got you, I'm yours, just trust me, lean back, lean back."

And...and Gerard did.

Frank pushed in again with a relieved moan, holding Gerard up so he could move more easily, and with each slight change in angle, Gerard couldn't help but gasp and let his head fall back against the pillow. He just let himself be fucked kind of tenderly, almost, even though Frank was speeding up and each thrust made sparks fly in Gerard's copper wire body, each time an amazing echo of his climax.

Then Frank was coming, too, and Gerard had forgotten how it felt, the movement and the heat and the slickness of it all, leaving him feeling open and exposed when Frank pulled out bit by bit, until he was lying on Gerard's chest, nuzzling at the skin over his heart.

"Sorry," Gerard said, although he didn't really know why. Well, more like he didn't know why in particular - he had a lot of things to apologize about.

"It's okay, I get it." Frank said, lifting his head. "You got tired."

"I'm still tired," Gerard said lamely, and wow, he was really not the brightest bulb after sex. Or maybe just after sex with Frank...it was pretty mind-blowing, after all.

Frank's lips curved up in a lazy smile. "Then let's sleep," he murmured, cleaning them off with the corners of the sheets and snuggling up to Gerard's sweaty front.

"Okay," Gerard whispered, tucking his head into Frank's neck and mouthing at the leather. Frank just smiled against his collarbones, and he pressed his lips there afterwards.

xoxoxo

Gerard woke up, the feverish heat on his skin gone, replaced by a chill of the room and the soft warmth of Frank next to him, their noses almost touching. Gerard rolled over groggily, looking at the clock - 3:00 AM, the glowing red numbers informed him. The month of October was officially over. Happy All Saints' Day. He sighed and lay there for a few seconds before remembering his second gift for Frank was still in the car.

He'd gotten it the same night he'd gone out to get the new lube and the vibrator - it was a strange combination of items in that bag. But he'd found it at a little antique store, in the window, and as soon as he saw it, he'd smiled and known who to give it to.

Gerard slipped out of the sheets as quietly as he could, but even still, he heard the soft breath as Frank woke up, blinking at him sleepily. "Where're you going?" he slurred.

"I need to get something for you from the car," Gerard said, absently stroking Frank's hair out of his face. Frank smiled a little.

"Okay." Gerard was just about to get up when Frank said peevishly, "It's so cold. Deserts are supposed to be hot."

"Not in November at night when you're naked, silly," Gerard laughed, digging in their suitcase and tossing a T-shirt and some sweats at Frank, who flailed to catch them, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes with the clothes in his lap. Gerard fished out a shirt and sweats for himself, too, slipping into his Converse and heading towards the door.

"You're coming back, right?" Frank asked suddenly, and Gerard's hand stopped on the doorknob before he turned back around.

"Of course, Frank," he assured him, and blew him a kiss before leaving the room.

xoxoxo

Gerard locked up the car, the present in his hands. He'd unwrapped it because he knew Frank was exhausted, like him, and wanted to get back to sleep as soon as possible - this way he could just give it to him right away.

He walked back into the hotel, walking along the hall and going to room 121, the room key in his hand.

And then he heard the crash and the cut-off scream which followed.

Gerard's face paled - Frank. Oh, fuck. His hands fumbled with the key until the card went in and the light turned green, but when he went into the room, it was empty - the sheets were a mess and the lamp was knocked over, its bulb burst. "Frank?!" he called, his gaze gravitating towards the open window. He scrambled across the room, leaning out of it, staring helplessly at the covered Jeep roaring across the desert away from him. He barely caught a glimpse of the license plate, and what he saw made his heart clench -

ULTIMATUM

Gerard spun on his heel, his blood icy. Jared Leto had Frank.

His eyes caught the piece of paper in the middle of the wrecked bed, pristine among the rumpled sheets, and he snatched it up, eyes darting over what was written.

35.035428,-110.766898

Coordinates.

Gerard, half blinded with terror and determination as he clutched the paper and stumbled towards the door, didn't notice as the present slipped from his fingers, shattering on the tile floor of the kitchenette.

The cracked head of the porcelain dove stared at the ceiling with unseeing eyes, lifeless as though struck by a bullet.