You're So Cute When You're Slurring Your Speech by autoschediastic (Explicit)

[turlough]

Fandom: BANDOM
Pairing: Gerard/Frank
Length: 8,270 words
Author on DW: blue_soaring
Author on AO3: autoschediastic

Why this must be read: The one where Frank bones Gerard a lot. A fabulously exuberant early days PWP. So much fun and so, so hot. Dirty, messy boys ftw!

Excerpt from the story:

A familiar pot-choked giggle shuts him up fast. "Chill," Frank says, one hand planted in the middle of Gerard's back to keep him down. "Chill, dude, chill, just wanted to, like, horizontal, y'know?"

"The fuck, Frankie?" Gerard repeats, 'cause what the fuck? He totally needs another hit, but it's probably a good thing he left the spliff with the dude outside. Lit joints and piles of dry hay don't sound like a such an awesome idea. Unlike Frank's hands pushing up the back of his shirt. "Frank?"

"S'cool," Frank says, quiet and close. He shuffles around a bit, touch skimming softly along Gerard's back until weight settles on his fucking thighs and then rough fingertips dig into Gerard's sides, gripping hard. "Oh fuck yeah, it's really cool."

Gerard gears up to tell Frank to quit squeezing his fucking fat already, because Frank's always fucking grabbing it, like it's completely fascinating to skinny little fuckers like him, but Frank shifts and says, "Oh yeah," again, all drawn out and breathy, not slurred even a bit despite the armload of beers Gerard saw him knocking back like he was dying. He says, "Fuck, you feel good," and squeezes harder, and that is his motherfucking dick he's grinding against Gerard's ass.

Gerard says, "Frank," and Frank says, "Shit," and shoves his hands straight down Gerard's pants. There shouldn't be enough room, not both hands all the way in there like that, but Frank's a quick sneaky fucker and somehow Gerard's fly is wide fucking open already. Gerard shoves up on the palms of his hands, floundering in the hay, and whatever the fuck he's planning on doing doesn't happen because next thing he knows his shirt's tugged halfway over his head and Frank's hot mouth is on his back, sucking wet noisy kisses on his skin. It feels fucking electric. He goes back down fast, propped up on one elbow and panting shallowly. "Frank," he tries again, and it comes out shaky and thick.

"You're just, like, you don't even fucking know," Frank says, damp lips dragging over Gerard's back. "You're so fucked. You're like really, really fucked right now, and you don't give a shit."

Giving a shit about being wasted isn't something Gerard tends to do even when he's sober, so he's kinda confused about the point Frank's trying to make. Almost as confused as he is over Frank yanking his fucking shorts down with his jeans and wrapping a callused hand around his dick, except it's pretty common knowledge that when somebody puts a hand on your dick they're trying to get you off. Why Frank wants to get him off is something he's gonna have to tackle when Frank isn't fucking doing it, holy fuck.

"Yeah, c'mon," Frank says, muffled in Gerard's shoulder, "I closed the door, c'mon. No one's gonna - It's just me, Gee. Just me." He uses one of his knees to rudely shove Gerard's wider, hissing curses when denim cuts in and stops him short.

You're So Cute When You're Slurring Your Speech (on AO3) or here (on DW)