"Stop staring."
Frank doesn't avert his eyes, but he does smile. Lightening the moment, easing the tension. He knows Gerard hates the intensity of it more than the staring itself, because when Frank stops teasing and smirking and fucking around and just allows himself to quietly look, Gerard can sense it - see it in Frank's face. The admiration, the fondness, the sheer desire that he can't hide, and wouldn't even if he could. Few things frustrate Frank more than people who have no idea how amazing they are, and Frank just isn't prepared to play along with that shit and help them maintain their infuriating delusions. Especially Gerard.
"Sorry," he says, not meaning it, and Gerard's mouth twists in that way that means he's partly genuinely annoyed but mostly grudgingly endeared, and it's only his stubbornness trying to save face.
"No, I mean it. How would you like it if I did it to you?" Gerard widens his eyes until they're comically huge and fixes Frank with an unblinking stare, apparently trying to demonstrate just how much Frank would indeed dislike it.
Unfortunately for Gerard, it just makes Frank crack up. "Okay, firstly, you do do it to me. All the fucking time. I'm always catching you at it. And secondly, I have absolutely no objection to you looking at me like that, because that is fucking hilarious."
Gerard scowls. "I don't do it when you're naked and I'm on top of you! This is totally different." He squirms underneath Frank then - maybe to illustrate his point, or maybe to draw attention to his nakedness, Frank doesn't care. The former isn't even true, and the latter is easily winning out anyway.
Frank's smile breaks into a grin. "You know, I'm naked too."
"That's not," Gerard starts, but stops abruptly when Frank lowers his head. Gerard's neck is long and pale and gorgeous, just like the rest of him; when Frank presses his mouth against it Gerard goes totally, completely still, tense from his shoulders right down to his knees. Only his toes move, curling and uncurling restlessly as Frank drags his wet, open mouth over his throat, before finally moving up to take his mouth.
"Mmph," Gerard exhales softly against Frank's lips, hands flapping in mid-air for a moment before winding into Frank's hair and tugging, hard.
Game on. Frank grunts into the kiss, pushing forward with his mouth, but Gerard pushes right back - until it's nothing but a messy combination of spit and teeth and tongue. When Frank breaks away, panting, Gerard's eyes are huge and dark, his lips red and swollen, and he's flushed from his cheeks right down to his chest.
"Fuck," Frank says, just to hear how wrecked his own voice is. He leans on a forearm and trails the fingers of his free hand across Gerard's collarbone, over his chest until he's fingering a pink, hard nipple.
Gerard inhales sharply, pressing up like reflex, fingers tightening in Frank's hair. "Frank, I don't. You-- we should."
"You want me?" Frank coaxes, twisting Gerard's nipple between his fingers.
Gerard holds Frank's eyes steadily, despite the high flush on his face. "Yeah."
Frank swallows hard. He lets his hand continue its path, down until his palm is splayed over Gerard's stomach and he can feel the rise and fall of Gerard's breathing-- fast, but full, deep. Gerard's breath hitches, hips twitching up, but Frank's deliberately careful to keep his hand clear of Gerard's cock where it's straining up against his stomach. He slides over the curve of Gerard's hip, stroking the soft skin idly for a moment, before gripping Gerard's thigh and hitching his leg up around Frank's waist.
They both hiss - Gerard from their cocks pressing together and Frank from the sparking pain in his scalp as Gerard's fingers twist brutally tight in his hair. Frank likes this a lot - holding Gerard's legs open, thighs against thighs, pressed together hot and slick and sweaty. But not as much as he likes Gerard offering himself up, asking for it.
