The Collision of Planetary Bodies (Breaking Point)

Author's Note: As promised, another 'against-the-wall' PWP. My first attempt at writing MCR, set vaguely in 2007, during the Tour of Incredible Gayness. 🙂 Also, this is something like a belated birthday gift for one Gerard Way, who wants to Save Your Life, for real, and I love him for it.

A guy would have to be pretty much dead not to get turned on when Gerard Way touched him in the lewdest ways imaginable in front of thousands of loudly screaming fans. The fact that it happened pretty much every day did not really do anything to dampen the effects, and holding his guitar in a way that hid his erection or moving so fast that no one would notice had become more or less second nature to Frank Iero.

He might even go as far as to say that he had accepted it. After all, in return he got to repay the favor in kind, and kissing, licking and generally groping Gerard Way had become one of his favorite pastimes. Yes, it was a political statement of sorts, but that was mostly Gerard's thing. For Frank, it was part of the rush of performing, being pulled into Gerard's field of gravity and just going along for the ride. It was exhilarating - and it made Frank horny as hell by the time they walked off stage.The fact that Gerard was similarly affected did not really help with the frustration, even if it was slightly gratifying.

The point was, Frank was getting very tired of jacking off in the shower after every gig. It made him cranky, to the point where Jamia had more than once cut their daily phone call short with an exasperated "Seriously, just deal with it already!". Frank had so far successfully ignored this, mainly because it was pretty embarrassing to get sex advice from one's fiancée.

Until tonight. He was not quite sure what was different, but for some reason the atmosphere on stage was even more charged than normal. Bob was drumming as if he was on fire (again), Ray was being every inch the guitar god, even Mikey was playing to the audience as if there was no tomorrow, and fucking Gerard was strutting his stuff and kept giving Frank these sidelong glances whenever Frank stood still long enough to notice. The crowd was eating it up, stoked up to near frenzy, and it all built up under Frank's skin, making him positively hum with desire, and he found himself almost giving Gerard a blowjob right there, witnesses be damned.

It should probably not have surprised him when Gerard stalked him afterwards, but he still did not see it coming. He was in one of the dressing rooms, towelling himself dry, trying to decide whether a shower (and a wank) could wait until they were back at the hotel for the night, when the door clicked shut and he caught Gerard's eyes in one of the mirrors, staring at him as if he was the first cigarette after a ten-hour flight. This was not the way Gerard ever looked at Frank when they weren't on stage. Frank's breath caught and the arousal that had slightly abated since getting off stage flared up again. He tried to say something that would defuse the atmosphere, but discovered that his mouth was dry and his brain was apparently taking a holiday, because all he came up with was "Gerard..." and that came out sounding almost like something out of a porn.

Then Gerard pounced. There was no other word for it, and Frank found himself pressed against the wall, their bodies flush together so there was no mistaking both their arousals. Gerard whispered "Fuck, Frankie!" in a hoarse voice, a split second before their lips met. It was almost a relief after all the tension, and Frank groaned into Gerard's mouth, grabbing Gerard's hair, taking control of the kiss, all hunger and desperation. He could feel Gerard's chest heaving against his own, Gerard's hands skimming over every inch of Frank's body they could reach. They were seriously dry-humping each other by now, rubbing and grinding hips and thighs and cocks, and Frank had some flashbacks to highschool and coming in his pants when he and Jamia made out for the first time. He had felt close to exploding whenever she touched him during those first exciting months, but he couldn't remember it ever feeling quite so... raw, so powerful.

This was Gerard, this was them, and Frank's many, many fantasies had never even come close to the reality of it. This was Gerard's motherfucking tongue against his own, a sensation somehow a world apart from anything they'd done before, even if there hadn't been nimble artist's fingers busy opening Frank's jeans and slipping inside his briefs without hesitation, without even pausing the kiss. Frank cursed loudly into Gerard's mouth and bucked up violently, his hands dropping down to squeeze Gerard's ass. Again, nothing about this was new, except in all the ways that mattered, and Frank's whole body shuddered as Gerard jacked him off, dry, all hunger and little finesse but still the best fucking handjob Frank had ever received. Frank's head hit the wall painfully as he tore his lips away from Gerard's in order to gasp for air.

Gerard actually made a little whining noise in the back of his throat and Frank made up for the lack of kissing by leaning forward and sucking on Gerard's neck, not just teasing but for real. He let his hands wander a little until they ended up deep in the back of Gerard's tight jeans (no underwear!), one finger pushing just a bit inside. This caused Gerard's hand on Frank's cock to stop for a moment and Gerard groaned "Fuck, yes, Frankie!" in a strangled voice that vibrated hotly against Frank's ear. Oh. Okay, Frank could totally go with that, and he found himself nodding frantically and maybe, possibly, whimpering with needwantplease, which broke the mood for just one moment as they both couldn't help but laugh just a little.

But the tension was right back up where it had been when Frank pushed Gerard off just long enough to squeeze out of his jeans and t-shirt while Gerard did the same, revealing what seemed like miles and miles of unmarked skin slightly sweat-flushed from the show and the making out. Then they were attached at the mouth again, and the feel of Gerard's erection brushing against Frank's almost brought matters to an untimely end, but then Gerard tore himself away and quickly went to get a condom and lube out of Frank's carry-on bag. Frank just watched him from his spot against the wall, his hand curling around his cock half-heartedly. No more jacking off tonight, he thought with satisfaction. Also, hopefully no more jokes about Frank being a boyscout for always carrying protection even after so many years in a (mostly) committed relationship.

Then Gerard was back, and putting a condom on Frank, which made anything resembling clear thought leave Frank's brain immediately. Cool lube was squirted onto his fingers, and he stared at them dumbly for a moment, until Gerard got impatient and ("I know you've done this before, motherfucker!") grabbed his hand and put it just above the curve of his ass. Frank almost swallowed his tongue in his haste to comply, turning them around so Gerard was facing the wall, arms flat against it so they pillowed his head as he pushed his hips back against Frank's hand and Frank's cock.

Frank just hoped that two fingers would suffice, because Gerard was making fucking noises again, a million times better than anything on stage or even what Frank had overheard on the bus, because it was for him, and Gerard wanted it, wanted him. So Frank pulled out, rested both hands on Gerard's hips and slowly pushed forward, stopping Gerard from impaling himself too quickly. He reached forward and took Gerard's cock into his still-slippery hand, and Gerard bucked and swore and looked over his shoulder, and Frank couldn't help but kiss him, hard and fast, ignoring the uncomfortable angle. Then he was all the way in, inside Gerard, and he settled for trying to jack Gerard off and fuck him at the right slant while staring in wonder at the part where his cock was inside Gerard's ass, and Frank was trying very hard not lose his mind in the process.

Focusing on making it good for Gerard helped, and Frank was rewarded with a steady stream of profanity as he hit the right spot and Gerard pushed back against him and forward into his hand, and Frank's free hand had to grip Gerard's hip really hard. The thought of his fingerprints on Gerard's lilywhite skin should really not be as fucking hot as it was, but then Gerard tensed and came with a shout, and Frank held him tightly until he relaxed again and craned his neck for another deep kiss. Frank was still buried deep inside Gerard, and Gerard smiled against Frank's lips, whispered "C'mon, Frankie..." and moved his hips. At which point Frank pretty much lost control, all frantic shoves and breath thundering in his ears, and Gerard took it with a running commentary of encouragement until Frank leaned forward and bit him, right where his neck met his shoulder. Frank felt Gerard's cock twitch slightly under his hand, and for some reason that was all he needed, and he came, his strangled "Fuck, Gee!" muffled by Gerard's fair skin.

Afterwards he more or less slumped against Gerard's back, holding on with both arms around Gerard's middle to stop his legs from giving out until Gerard bucked his shoulders to dislodge him, saying "Get off me, fucker, my arms are starting to hurt!" in a lazy drawl that was a million miles from where they started this whole thing. Frank grunted an acknowledgment and hefted himself up, slipping out of Gerard, his hands lingering on Gerard's sides just a moment longer, skimming over his ass one last time before he started fishing for his briefs and jeans. Gerard was doing the same, also reaching to put his t-shirt back on, while Frank chose to use his to wipe Gerard's stomach. They were uncharacteristically silent, and Frank was beginning to wonder whether Gerard would talk himself out of postcoital bliss to postcoital freak-out when he kept catching Gerard glance at him from under his lashes.

The kiss therefore took him by surprise. It was something new still, soft and gentle, Gerard's lips parting only slightly. The kiss petered out after a couple of minutes and they just remained there, forehead to forehead, breathing each other in. Frank closed his eyes and just rested in that moment, curling his fingers around Gerard's and just holding on, finding back to himself after the rollercoaster of the evening. Finally they both pulled away at the same time, and Gerard's smile was quiet and content, all the crazy energy that had kept him going all night dissipated, and Frank couldn't help but grin back as he slung one arm around Gerard's shoulder and unlocked the dressing room door with the other.

Time to find the others, get ripped mercilessly for disappearing and then go to the hotel and (finally) fall asleep without frustrated arousal buzzing under his skin. Tomorrow there was another gig, another round of being pulled in by Gerard, of colliding with him until they were both left hard and wanting, and Frank could not fucking wait.