You Gave Me Butterflies At The Mailbox

"So, I don't think I ever told you how proud I was that you told your mom."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Even if it was awkward as hell."

"Well. It needed to be done, I guess."

Frank and Gerard are laying on Frank's bed, Gerard on his back and Frank on his side, leaning on his left elbow. They're whispering to each other even though no one's home to hear them.

Frank hums, then starts moving his hand that isn't holding up his head down Gerard's stomach to the end of his shirt. He dips two fingers under the shirt to rub the bare flesh beneath, then says, "Yeah. I could, ya know. Reward you," with a little smirk.

Gerard looks at him like he's a complete idiot. "I'm not your dog, Frank," he says, no longer whispering.

Frank quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. He just shrugs and pushes Gerard's shirt up a little farther. Gerard rolls his eyes, but gives the ceiling a little smile, and doesn't stop Frank's hand from moving up his chest underneath his t-shirt. Frank scoots a little closer and wraps his right leg around Gerard's right leg so he's sort of half-straddling him, and continues exploring Gerard's chest. They start kissing, and Frank's hand starts to move down.

When he reaches the button on Gerard's pants, he pauses and pulls his lips away from Gerard's to ask, "Can I?" against his mouth. Gerard nods once, then begins kissing Frank again. Frank undoes his pants and just goes in. He doesn't know how he got this lucky twice in one week. He touches Gerard over his boxers, and Gerard starts gripping Frank's shoulders with one hand while exploring his back with the other.

Frank smirks and mumbles, "Good?" but Gerard doesn't say anything. Frank knows it's good anyway.

Once Frank's got his hand under Gerard's boxers and wrapped around his, now very hard, cock, it doesn't take long for Gerard to cum. He quietly groans, gives a low grunt, and then cums all over Frank's hand and his boxers with a small gasp of, "Ah."

Frank pulls his hand out and reaches over to his nightstand to grab some tissues. Once his hand is clean again, he turns back to Gerard, whose already got his pants re-done and is laying back staring at the ceiling. Frank eyes his pants and wrinkles his nose, because, ew, that can't be comfortable.

He scoots up close to Gerard again and presses himself against his leg, to kind of let him know, hey, yeah, still hard over here.

Gerard looks at him and bites his lip, then rolls off the bed and goes, "I gotta go."

Frank stares at him wide eyed for at least a full minutes. "Seriously? Gee, come on. Can't you, like, ya know, return the favor?"

Gerard makes a strange face, then his phone rings. And, oh, how convenient.

Gerard answers and, of course, it's his mom. And, of course, she wants him to come home for dinner. Of course.

Gerard kisses Frank goodbye, then practically sprints out of Frank's room and lets himself out.

Frank stares at the ceiling, cursing everyone and everything for stupid moms, and stupid family dinners, and stupid boyfriends that will receive but don't like to return.

With a deep sigh, Frank lifts his hips off the bed and undoes his jeans, pulling them down a little. He wraps his hand around himself and thinks, I'll get him back for this.