Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

[Frank's P.O.V.]

The tense atmosphere from earlier was entirely gone as the car winded down the roads heading back home. We were going back to Belleville now, back to our home town. At least, that was what I assumed from what Gerard had said. Deciding to not focus on the roads, I averted my gaze to the pink seashell in my lap. I felt somewhat proud of myself for having found it, and I began fiddling with it, running my fingers over the smooth inner curves out towards the rough exterior. Curious, I gripped it tightly in one hand, raising it to my ear; people always said you could hear the ocean in a seashell. Grinning, I found that I could hear the roaring of the waves crashing against the shore. Excited about my find, I held the shell to Gerard's ear, wanting him to hear what I did, wanting to share my finding with him.

He flinched in surprise to feel the object against the side of his face but once he noticed what I was doing he complied in letting me press it against his ear. He smiled as he drove, glancing briefly at me. "You can hear the ocean," he muttered, the smile curving his lips until he was full-out grinning. I giggled at his expression, taking back the shell to cradle it in my hands, studying the wonder I had found. It was somewhat chipped on the edge but otherwise I found it to be perfect, a great find. I honestly had never before visited the beach; the city had always been my only destination and I felt overjoyed to have finally visited the ocean. It had been a fascination of mine for the past few years and I felt ecstatic to find that it had lived up to my expectations.

I leaned across the seat, pressing my lips briefly to Gerard's cheek. "Thank you for taking me there," I murmured into his ear, grinning as I leaned back in my own seat, letting the shell rest in my lap as I looked at him, wanting to gauge his reaction. A smile curved his lips, a hand removing itself from the wheel to grab mine.

"Who better to share my favorite place with?" he asked with a smirk, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles without once taking his eyes off the road; he was a very cautious driver. I couldn't help but feel my heart swell with pride at his words, watching as he gently replaced my hand to my side, replacing his on the steering wheel. A light blush tinted my cheeks as I adjusted myself into a more comfortable position; I hated going commando. It was so uncomfortable but my boxers were absolutely soaked, dripping saltwater into the backseat, shoes doing the same with the rug on the floor. It felt as though we had known each other for years with the way we were acting and I was now learning to enjoy every second of it.

I glanced at the clock set into the dashboard, noting the time; it was a few minutes past noon. I had thought we were going to be out the entire day and I had to say it was disappointing to think we were going back home already. "The day's not over yet," he smirked, almost as if he could hear my thoughts, right hand leaving the steering wheel again to caress my cheek tenderly.

"Oh really? Where are we going now?"

"First, we're stopping off to get lunch; I'm hungry as fuck. Then...well, that's for me to know and you to find out." I pouted at that, whining for him to tell me. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly, a smirk on his lips as he glanced back at me. "You're going to have to be patient, Frankie," he murmured, voice gently as he dropped his hand to my thigh, rubbing at the denim fabric gently. I had to bite my lip, watching as his fingers wandered north ever so slightly. "I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy it, so don't you fret; I'm not going to take you anywhere you'd feel uncomfortable and if I do, you just set me right." I crossed my arms over my chest, still staring down to his fingers caressing my thigh. He only pulled his hand away when I let out an involuntary moan, eyes fluttering closed slightly as his fingers cupped the problem now straining against my jeans.

"Gerard," I groaned once I could catch my breath, "don't be such a fucking tease." He laughed lightly, waiting until he reached a red light before he turned to me, cupping my cheek in his palm, forcefully pulling me into a kiss, not that I minded. A gasp escaped my lips along with a moan as his other hand reached down to massage my arousal. He then pulled away promptly as if nothing had happened, leaving me entirely winded on the seat, my problem growing and rubbing uncomfortably against the fabric of my jeans. The car sped along the streets again as the light turned green, a self-satisfied smirk on his rose lips. "Gerard, I'm not going anywhere with a boner."

"It'll go away if you ignore it," he shrugged, ignoring the way my jaw dropped as I stared at him.

"You know very well it won't," I growled, frustrated now at the fact that he had turned me on and was doing absolutely nothing to help me out. He shrugged lightly again, finally stopping the car in the parking lot of another establishment, looking back at me. I was preparing myself to plead for his assistance when he reached out, fingers fumbling briefly with the top portion of my jeans before he freed my arousal, letting it out into the warm air inside the car. I leaned my head back against the seat, moaning loudly as I felt his cold fingers wrap around it, beginning to pump slowly. I gripped onto the edge of the seat tightly, trying to control myself as I bucked involuntarily into his hand. He leaned across the seat, capturing my lips in his, hand maintaining a slow rhythm. Somehow, through the pleasure I was receiving, I became concerned about what I was wearing and how it would become stained once I found release.

Becoming heated, I stripped myself of my jacket and shirt, looking back at Gerard to notice the hungry look he had adopted. His hand began to work faster, his free hand slipping down to his own jeans, freeing his own problem. I moaned at that, staring at him as he began to pump himself, maintaining the same pace with both hands. Curses escaped my lips to see him, losing complete control. In a few minutes in which the sweat dripped down our flushed bodies, we both found release, the white fluid staining his jacket and my abdomen; at least I had thought of taking off my shirt so as to not dirty it. Groaning slightly at the sticky mess his hands had become, Gerard motioned for me to search in the glove compartment for baby wipes. I eagerly complied, handing him two and using one to wipe at my own sticky abdomen. Once we were suitably clean, the stained hoodie thrown in the backseat, both of us entirely clothed once more, we exited the car. Legs shaking beneath me, I tilted my head back to look at the name of the restaurant, finding I couldn't decipher it; it was in French and looked incredibly fancy.

"Gerard, I can't eat here," I muttered as he walked to my side, wrapping an arm around my waist. I shook my head; the dishes were probably at a surplus of twenty dollars per meal, not including appetizers or dessert. Besides, it was only lunch time; where was he planning on going for dinner?

"Why not, Frankie?" he asked, leaning to capture my lips in his. In shock, I pulled away, shaking my head.

"Looks really fancy," I muttered, looking up at the elegant establishment, shrinking away slightly. Here we were standing in front of a restaurant in jeans and a shirt, having just had pleasured ourselves in the car. Unease settled over me, making me take a few steps backward, trying to get away; I didn't belong in such a place.

"Only the best for you," he whispered, pulling me back toward him, holding me fast to his side. I struggled briefly, attempting to push him away, trying to get back into the locked car though I knew I wouldn't be able to.

"You can't afford this."

"It's not up to you to decide what I spend my money on. If I want to use it all on you, then I will and there's nothing you can do about it. Just indulge me in this; the food here is really good and I want to treat you today. The day's all about you, okay? Don't worry about any of this; I have it planned out. And, if worse comes to worse, we can always wash dishes to pay the debt." I shoved him lightly, giggling at the thought of him in a hair net, an apron tied around his waist as he diligently worked on dishes. Before I could protest any more, he pulled me into the formidable atmosphere of snooty men and woman, making me fidget nervously. He requested a table, blatantly ignoring the woman's look of disgust as she took in our appearances; apparently not many people came into their fine establishment dressed as we were.

After a few minutes, the woman begrudgingly took us to a secluded table in the back, far away from prying eyes; she probably didn't want anyone to see us, not that I minded the location at all. She tossed a pair of menus on the table, walking away with a falsely cheery assurance that we could just call her when we were ready to order. I hoped that someone else would attend to us; I didn't like the way she looked at the both of us. "Don't worry about her," he whispered, leaning into me from across the table, a small smile on his face, "We'll get another waiter." I nodded though it didn't make me feel any better about her treatment towards us, averting my gaze to the white lace covering the tabletop. His hand covered mine, his other hand tilting my face upward, a small smile on his face as he assured me again that it would all be fine.

We ordered soon thereafter with a noticeably nicer male waiter and I made sure to order the cheapest vegetarian thing on the menu, not wanting to inconvenience Gerard. We ate in relative silence, finding words entirely unnecessary, finding that we could think of absolutely nothing to say to each other at the moment. When we were satisfied, growling stomachs quieted and slumped in our chairs, he leaned forward, pulling me into a heated kiss. I couldn't help but smile as he pulled away, thinking on how considerate he was to have taken me here. He asked for the bill soon thereafter, hiding it under the table so I wouldn't inquire about the price, refusing to let me see how much I owed him.

"It's nothing," he growled after the eighth time I asked, still resolutely hiding the little black book under the table. "Stop asking or I'm going to leave you here to wash the dishes by yourself." I grumbled at that, cursing him under my breath as I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. He waited until the waiter had come by again, directly handing him the bill so that I wouldn't see it. He gripped my hand, pulling me forcibly out of the cushioned wooden chair I had been seated in, sending the man a smile, tugging me along behind me.

"Gerard," I began to protest once we were outside in the parking lot again. He quickly silenced me, pressing me against the car as his lips smothered mine. As he pulled away, he placed something in my hand, smirking as he walked around to get into the driver's side. I glanced down at the crinkling object he had left in my grip, indignantly noting that it was a mint. "Hey! Are you trying to say something?" He laughed and shrugged, popping a mint into his own mouth, winking at me with a dirty little smirk.

"I think you can guess what I'm implying."