Status: In Progress

The Majesty of Choice


Frank’s curtains are drawn together, but the window is opened just a crack, which lets in some of the cold night air as well as the sound of the world outside. There’s wind and the sound of bugs chirping softly, and a nice summer smell. In Gerard’s home, the windows don’t open, and the one in his room, and the room that his sisters forced him into, both only had windows that were about a hand wide on either side. The windows in Frank’s room are wide and impressive, not the stained glass in other parts of the castle, but intricately detailed nonetheless.

The light in the room is supplied only by one small lamp on the bedside table. It’s so small that it shouldn’t be able to light the room up like it does, but there’s quite a bit of flickering, warm light which probably makes both of them look angelic, as it certainly makes Frank look that way.

Gerard doesn’t really know what to do with himself. It’s a little bit before he would normally go to bed. If he were back home, he’d probably read a book, or write something, or just hang out and talk to Ray. It feels weird to do anything like that here, so it’s just him and Frank alone.

He sits on the bed, and Frank nervously plays with his hands as he looks at Gerard. The two of them don’t do much of anything. Why do things sometimes feel awkward and other times feel like they’re old friends? Gerard feels like Frank is both his best friend in the world and a complete stranger.

“You don’t need to stay, you can, I mean, you have your own room, I wouldn’t be offended if you wanted to go there, it’s getting late.”

“No, it’s okay, I… I want to stay,” Gerard confesses. He does want to stay, but in reality, he doesn’t have a choice. Pete had ordered him to stay in Frank’s room, and he didn’t back out on it, which means Gerard really doesn’t have a choice. How magical it would be to get to choose, but even if he did have that opportunity, he would still choose this.

“Okay,” Frank says, nodding. He walks over and sits next to Gerard on his own bed. There had been a servant come in after they left, because the bed was made again before Gerard sat on it. He feels a little bad that they had to remake the bed in the first place, but since the two of them are probably going to sleep soon, at least the servants won’t have to do it again until tomorrow. Gerard’s never had his bed made for him ever in his entire life. His mom or Ray have ordered him to do it, but that doesn’t mean he understands why it’s necessary. And he certainly had never made a bed like the one Frank has, which has nearly ten pillows that are all for decoration, which seems entirely unnecessary if you ask Gerard. A bed needs three things, one pillow, one blanket, and one Frank.

Frank sits a little bit closer to Gerard than he would have expected, but not as close as he would want. Gerard bites his lip a little and looks at Frank. Such a fucking pretty person, the most beautiful man in the entire Kingdom. But only Gerard was invited to stay here. The only person ever. Frank told him he’d never even kissed anyone before Gerard. That’s a big deal. It’s probably the biggest deal to happen to this Kingdom since Frank’s dad, the King, died. And it’s happened to him, Gerard. This is the kind of gossip that Hattie and Olive would salivate over, but it’s happening to their own goddamn stepbrother.

“I hope it wasn’t too awful, was it?” Frank asks.

“It was… I mean it wasn’t exactly fun.” That’s sugarcoating it. Edgar was a complete asshole. He never said anything directly rude, it was the just the way he said it. Gerard got what Edgar what he had expected. He was cold, arrogant, distant, and slimy. He made as quick work of his food as he could so that he wouldn’t have to talk to Edgar anymore than he had to, and that was still long enough.

Sitting here with Frank is the biggest relief in his life. He’s away from everyone, they’re all alone in this part of the castle. In the back of his mind, Gerard is aware that Edgar’s bedroom is also somewhere in this corridor, but he’s trying to keep that knowledge right at the back. Right now, all he cares about is him and Frank all alone in this little corner of the world. There’s nothing but them, no servants, no knights, no Pete and Patrick. Not even a Mikey, because Gerard has left his book in the room next door where he won’t be sleeping. That may have been intentional, he doesn’t want Mikey to be in the same room as him and Frank. Not after last time.

“I know, but I think you did a pretty good job holding your, like, your hatred for him in. I’m really glad you did, he wouldn’t have been so nice if you hadn’t.”

“That was nice for him?” Gerard says.

“Well, he’s not a very open armed man with anyone. He’s not very close with me, he’s never been married, he just kind of exists as what he is.”

“He’s a jackass,” Gerard says.

“Oh, come on. He wasn’t rude to you.”

“Did you not pick up on the tone at all? He was super judgmental about me. He was super snotty about where I’m from. If that’s how he talks to me when we’re not talking about politics, I don’t want to hear him actually talking about politics.”

Frank just sighs, “You’re probably right. I just don’t want to hate him, because he is all the family I’ve got. He’s done some really awful things though. I’ll talk to him about it soon. You’re my first priority right now, though.”

“You’re going to be so much better than him,” Gerard says, and he says it really close to Frank’s mouth. He’s forgotten to look at Frank’s eyes, all he can look at are Frank’s lips. Only Gerard has ever kissed them.

Gerard had expected to be the one to lean in, but Frank practically springs at him, grabbing the back of Gerard’s head and nearly smashing their teeth against each other. Gerard is really starting to like it when the two of them kiss like they’re fighting. He loves it when it’s slow and sort of planned out, but he really does love it when Frank kisses him like he’s going to die without him.

Frank pushes him, literally pushes Gerard onto his back. He’s a little surprised, all of a sudden looking at the ceiling, head against the blankets of Frank’s bed as he ducks down, getting an elbow on top of Gerard before Frank keeps kissing him. Gerard puts his arms around Frank’s neck, pulling him closer, not wanting him to escape, but Frank doesn’t seem too eager to go anywhere.

“You’re so, fuck, you’re so pretty,” Frank says to him, between breaths, not wanting his lips away from Gerard’s. Gerard makes a small desperate sound in his throat, and pushes himself up a little, tries to get the upper hand by pushing Frank off of him, and then darting his head down to kiss Frank’s neck again, like he had earlier. Frank responds very happily to this. Frank tugs on Gerard’s hair at the back of his head, and they both learn at the exact same moment that Gerard really likes that sensation. Frank had just been trying to bring Gerard’s lips back to his, but he makes what is close to a growling sound, and the two of them both get a look in their eyes like they’re literally animals.

Gerard knows what’s happening. Maybe that’s the weird part. That he knows. Because he very much knows what’s happening right now. He’s never known anything with more certainty than he knows this. He wants everything from this man.

Mouths collide, Gerard literally climbs on top of Frank, his legs on either side of Frank’s waist as he leans down, tries to get their two bodies as close to each other as humanly possible. This feels similar to what Gerard had thought almost happened earlier. It’s not dissimilar to that morning in Giantville either. But honestly, this time, Gerard doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want them to both be fully clothed this time. Well, Frank hadn’t had his shirt on last time, and that was the most attractive thing Gerard had ever seen. Frank’s tattoos. The fact that anyone could have so many tattoos.

This inclines Gerard not to hesitate in pulling Frank’s shirt off. It’s the easiest thing in the world. Frank doesn’t need to be convinced to part with it. Gerard is a little less open to it, but he lets Frank pull it up and over. Gerard has literally never been seen shirtless by any person beside Frank and his parents ever. He’s not even sure if his father has ever seen him shirtless at all, and Frank has managed to get him this way twice. So, imagine Gerard’s surprise when Frank gets him shirtless and he whimpers at the sight of him. Gerard is so deathly pale. His skin is white as snow, and he’s a little pudgy, and he’s definitely not a piece of artwork with all the lines of ink like Frank is, but Frank looks at him like he’s a painting, like he’s everything in the world.

“Gerard,” the look on Frank’s face is like he’s literally going to cry. He doesn’t know what on earth he can do. How is this happening? Frank is so wonderful, and beautiful and perfect, and he looks at Gerard like he’s even a percentage of what Frank is. They kiss, Frank gasping, like he really is going to start crying.

There’s a total warmth throughout Gerard’s body. His heartbeat is racing faster than it ever has, faster than when he thought the ogres were going to kill him. He doesn’t know how this is happening to him, how Frank is making him feel this way, but he’s doing everything to him, there are no words for what Gerard feels inside of him right now.

“Frank, I,” Gerard says, gasps, because Frank has latched onto Gerard’s neck this time, and he had literally no idea when he was kissing Frank there that it would feel like this. Did Frank feel this good when Gerard had nipped at his neck? This is unreal. Gerard moans. Fucking moans, like for real. “Frank, I want you. Like in every way, I want you.” He knows that he has to be the one to say it. Knows that Frank, even if it’s clear Frank wants him too, he would never ask it of him. He’s okay with whatever this is, but he wouldn’t do anything else if Gerard didn’t explicitly say something.

“Yes, mhm,” Frank nods vigorously, and he wraps his arms around Gerard’s neck, pulling him down, locking him in place. Gerard has never had this feeling in his stomach except for when he’s with Frank. But it’s never felt like it was burning him as much as it does now. He has surpassed a certain point. When he and Frank had rutted against each other that morning in the inn, it was the first time he’d ever felt this way with another person present. He never would have imagined letting anyone know he’s ever felt that way. Back home, alone in his bed at night, craving a high. Looking back, what was he thinking about? How could he ever have thought of anything but Frank?

Gerard couldn’t explain how it happens, but Frank gets him at the head of the bed, with Gerard’s head pressed against one of the many pillows, while Frank wraps his legs around him. He feels more vulnerable than he’s ever felt, letting Frank kiss him like this, he’ll let Frank do whatever he wants to him. He doesn’t know exactly what he wants, but he knows, for fucks sake, he knows that he wants Frank naked. This thought goes south very quickly.

What does Frank even look like? Shirtless is one thing, but Gerard has no frame of reference besides a mirror as to what another man will look like. He’s not particularly fond of the way he looks, but he can’t stop thinking about how unholy Frank will look. Everything Gerard isn’t. Gorgeous, sexy.

“Can you… I want…” Gerard mumbles, and he’s playing with the tassel that holds Frank’s pants up, trying to unknot it, which he can’t do without looking, but he can’t, won’t stop kissing Frank. This isn’t quite what it feels like to be in love, though he is very much in love with Frank. This is something else entirely. In a lot of ways, he does crave Frank closer, to be as close to him as they can possibly become, but at the same time, he wants to feel good, but only if Frank’s the one to make him feel that way. Never in a million years would Gerard ever want anyone to be with him like he wants Frank. Only Frank makes him feel this way. Only Frank ever will.

Frank nods, and he has to pull away, because he can’t get his pants undone and prop himself on his elbows at the same time. It takes a moment, and Gerard watches him, mouth open as he looks at this perfect thing that is Frank.

“Everything?” Frank asks, when the knot comes loose.

“Um… yeah,” Gerard nods. He’s not sure he’s conscious of his own wants. He knows that this is what he wants, but if it were up to him, he wouldn’t sound so desperate about it. But he is so so desperate. Gerard doesn’t care about anything. Not his innocence, not what other people might think of him, not his soul, or anything. He’s listening to his heart… and other organs. Frank practically has Gerard’s mouth watering just at the very thought of seeing him, really seeing him completely.

Now, if Gerard had wanted to, not been embarrassed about it, he could’ve seen Frank naked that morning in the inn. They had both made a bit of a mess, and that needed to be taken care of. Gerard had changed under cover of a sheet, while Frank had just undressed right there in the middle of the room. Of course, being the timid person that Gerard is, he’d looked away, refused to see Frank. Right now, he’s happy that he had made that choice, because that makes this time special.

When Frank pulls his pants and undergarments off, Gerard feels different. It feels like his life has all been a prelude to this moment. Oh. Frank can be even more attractive than he already was.

There’s no way to describe Frank apart from beautiful. He’s pretty, and way more perfect than Gerard. His skin is more toned, the tattoos make him unique and amazing in every way. Gerard couldn’t explain why, but his thighs are making him reel. It’s not just his face that gives it away, because Frank is, like, really really really into their current situation. Gerard wants to touch him everywhere. He has never wanted to touch anyone like this before.

“Frank, oh my god, you’re so gorgeous,” Gerard says, words spilling from his mouth. He wants to say everything. “You’re so, I can’t believe, fuck, holy shit.”

“You’re everything to me,” Frank says, still just on his knees, looking at him, fully on display, meaning more to Gerard than Gerard could ever mean to him. Gerard is very hard. Fuck, he’s ready to go. Fuck. “Can I?” Frank asks him, fingers just under the hem of his pants. It’s really happening. This is actually real. He doesn’t have words, his mouth doesn’t know how to form them anymore, so Gerard nods, looks right into Frank’s eyes and he wouldn’t need to nod in order to express the point, Frank can read it just by his face alone.

There’s no vulnerability in the entire world like trusting someone to see you naked. That is the single most trusting, most terrifying thing that can happen between two people. Gerard is embarrassed about his body, as he feels most people should be. He looks like this, and he can’t change looking like this, so if someone doesn’t like he just has to feel bad about himself.

Frank seems to like it.

“Wow,” Frank says, which isn’t the word Gerard would use to describe himself, but he likes the way it sounds on Frank’s tongue. Gerard grabs him by the neck, pulls him closer. Their bodies are literally against each other now, and there’s no hiding anything, not like that was possible to begin with. Gerard wants to kiss Frank until he dies. He would be content to die here and now with the most attractive person in the entire kingdom telling Gerard he loves him. However, if Gerard did die right here, he would not be able to see how this ends and god does he want to know how it ends.

It’s weird, because Gerard should be embarrassed, but he’s not. He pushes his hips up, meeting Frank’s, and he should feel something along those lines. It’s definitely awkward, he wouldn’t lie and say it isn’t, but it’s not scary. Gerard doesn’t know why he thought it would be scary, but last year, Gerard never wanted to kiss anyone and now he’s doing something way more than kiss someone.

Gerard makes a keening sound. Is he really doing this? Maybe it’s only been a little while since he met Frank, but every single day of knowing Frank has been almost non-stop talking between the two of them. When Gerard first met him, when they walked between Frell and his home, they talked. When you’re on horseback, even if it’s windy and hard to hear, you have to do something to spend the time, and talking to Frank was the best thing. In Giantville, and here at the castle, they talk. Gerard knows Frank’s insides and outs. So maybe it’s not necessarily seemly to be doing this right now, when they’ve only recently met, when they’re not married, when they’re both boys, but it’s really hard to think about that when Gerard feels this good.

Gerard isn’t really conscious of Frank’s words, but he knows Frank is asking. He gives Frank a nod. Whatever it is, Gerard knows he wants it. His mind wanders, scrambles for instructions, but he hasn’t any. That’s when Frank gets a hand wrapped around him and oh. Frank’s hand feels very different from his own. He touches Gerard very differently than he would himself. Frank’s hand is very soft. Very hesitant. It would be very accurate to say that Gerard likes it a lot.

“Fuck,” the words is very long. He says it into Frank’s mouth, and his head falls back because he’s forgotten how to kiss back. He never knew what it would feel like, but it feels like this, and this is one of the best feelings.

“You’re perfect,” Frank whispers in his ear, as he ruts against Gerard’s thigh. Gerard doesn’t ask permission. He feels like Frank probably wouldn’t be rubbing himself up against Gerard if he wasn’t going to give permission. Gerard gets a hand on him and tries to make Frank feel what he feels. He wants Frank to feel like sin, because that’s the only word that could come close.

Frank chokes into his ear, and the two of them pant at each other, noses or foreheads or something pressed up against each other’s. Then Frank is kissing Gerard’s neck, which just doesn’t seem fair, because it feels so good, and it’s coming from two different spots which spins him. How is this possible? Gerard has touched himself a couple hundred times before, but it never felt the way it does when it’s Frank. Frank. Wonderful, beautiful, perfect Frank.

“I love you,” Frank whispers, the words instinctual. He would have said them of his own volition, but they tumble out anyway. He moans, doesn’t stop moaning, Gerard grabs his face with his free hand and smashes their two mouths together. It’s barely even a kiss. It’s just a lot of spit and open mouths, and Gerard biting at Frank’s bottom lip. The best type of kiss if you ask Gerard.

“Fuck,” Gerard whines, lifting his hips up when it happens. His breathing stops for several seconds. He doesn’t quite exit his body, but he is a passenger in it. He feels himself still in Frank’s hand which has slowed, pumping him through the motions. When the ecstasy stops, it doesn’t take away the feeling in Gerard’s stomach. It’s a feeling like he could honestly go again and then again, and then five more times. Frank is keening, rubbing himself against Gerard’s thigh, because Gerard had forgotten what he was doing and so had taken his hand away.

He takes this moment of weakness to throw Frank off of him, climb on top of him. He doesn’t even try to kiss Frank, he just looks at Frank’s face, which is heavy lidded, mouth open when he begins to stroke Frank like fire and rage. Frank’s hands are on either of Gerard’s shoulders, nails digging in. The sounds Frank makes aren’t holy. They should never be heard by another person ever, but Gerard is here to listen in. Gerard is making those sounds come from him. He’s going to have this moment forever. He’s going to remember how good he can make Frank feel, what he looks like, what he sounds like. Everything.

“Ge…rard,” Frank manages, before he releases in Gerard’s hand. Gerard strokes him through it, as Frank had. If this wasn’t Frank, it would be gross. When it is Frank, it exhilarates Gerard. He doesn’t quite smile, it would feel weird to smile at this, Gerard’s mouth merely opens, just a little bit, his eyes expectant as he looks down at Frank. He looks so completely devilish but innocent at the same time.

Frank doesn’t necessarily recover quicker, but he pulls Gerard’s mouth to his in only a matter of seconds, pressing them together, a complete mess between their stomachs, which is most certainly gross. They’ll take care of it in a moment, there’s nothing less important than that right now. Kissing is what is important, kissing, cursing, Frank hand in his hair again.

“I love you, Gerard. I love you so much, I love you. So so much, I love you. Fuck, look at you, you’re so, I just love you.” Frank rambles, he needs Gerard to know, wants to say it as much as he can, but it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing will ever be enough, there’s no way for anyone to ever know or understand just how much Frank loves him.

Gerard scrambles off of Frank, so that he can lie next to him. This way the two of them can look at each other, really just look deep into brown eyes. Frank has never looked this way before. His lips are swollen, his cheeks are pink, there’s a little sweat on his forehead. His expression is fucked out, airless.

“Frank… I,” Gerard just can’t say it. He wants to, but he can’t. He can’t explain why, but he’s terrified of telling Frank he loves him before his curse is gone. He doesn’t know why, but he’s worried something terrible will happen if Frank has that knowledge while Gerard is still cursed. It’s not what Frank will think, what Frank might order him to do. It’s what might happen if other people know Gerard is in love with Frank. What other people might make him do if they knew what Gerard was.

Instead of saying the words, he just looks at Frank, and the words couldn’t be clearer on his face. Frank must be able to see them. I love you, Frank. His face couldn’t be clearer. Please, Frank, understand them, feel the words. I love you. Gerard screams them, just without the words.

Frank burrows his head into Gerard’s neck. He gets one hand around Gerard’s body, wants to get both of them around Gerard, pull him into an embrace, but they’re pressed against the bed, so the other one can’t get through. So, he just rests his hand on Gerard’s chest, which is so warm. Their limbs tangle together, Gerard’s not sure which of the four legs belong to him.

Gerard starts to breathe deeply, but he realizes he’s cold, because they’re still lying on the sheets. They had been in such a hurry that they didn’t even get under the covers. Frank notices it, and lazily says, “blankets.” He starts to pull himself up to get the covers over them, but Gerard stops him.

“Do you have a rag or something?”

“Mm, yeah,” Frank nods, he points to the closed door which Gerard assumes is the bathroom. There’s a small table beside it with towels, and washrags. Gerard pulls himself out of the bed, which is not ideal for either of them, as he shivers from the absence of Frank’s warm body. He grabs a rag, and cleans the both of them off, while Frank looks up at him, sleep very apparent in his eyes. Now that the heat of the moment is gone, Gerard is realizing that they’re both naked. Frank still looks beautiful, but Gerard just feels embarrassed and ugly. Once clean, Frank pulls the blankets over him, and waits for Gerard. He can see how much Frank wants him. He wants to steal Gerard’s warmth, wants to hold him, almost like he wants to protect him.

He looks at Frank for several moments from the side of the bed. The bed is too big. He wants to be as close to Frank in it as he can get, but they could easily be separate from each other with two feet on either side of them. Gerard’s growing used to sleeping beside Frank, feeling as though sleeping without him would be impossible, he would never be able to get comfortable, wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

Gerard smiles gently. He blows out the lamp on the table beside the bed, and climbs into bed, pressing himself against Frank.
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