Title: What it is to Burn
Author: Cherry Vanilla
Pairing: Frankie/Gerard
Inspired by the bus photo shoot and Frankie’s stance.
The metal is hot and they've been standing out here for so long that Frank's beginning to sweat, which positively thrills Makeup.
One girl mutters ‘fucking amateurs’ under her breath as she touches him up while they set up for another shot. Gerard is standing with his hand on his hip, looking like a diva and Frankie's just plain bored. He shifts down a little, one leg bent at the knee, heal flat against the bus. The photographer yells, 'hold it! Perfect!' and it takes Frank a second to realize the guy means him. Gerard glances over and his eyes go slightly wide. Frankie swears he sees him lick his lips before turning back, but writes it off as a heat thing.
A few more bright flashes and guinea pig-esque orders and
they're finally done. The other guys
head into the air-conditioned
"Uh, dude, my ass is burning, so, what--"
He's stopped with a fierce kiss, hips pushing against his own, hot and frantic. Gerard's tongue inches out to trace his bottom lip, planting kisses along his jaw.
"Do you know how hot you looked before? Like a fucking hooker or something, posing against a brick wall, waiting. Jesus, Frank."
Frankie moans helplessly. They don't do this often, usually reserve most of their touching for the stage. And because he knows that's usually the only time he’ll get, he pulls out all the stops -- grinding again Gerard, kissing, touching. He doesn't care that thousands of fans watching. In private, it's different; more serious obviously, yet even now, anyone could walk by.
He decides to put his brain on pause, pulling on Gerard's pants, tugging him closer. They kiss for long minutes, biting, bruising kisses that would've really sent the makeup girls reeling.
Gerard emits breathy noises against Frankie's mouth that harden his dick to an unbearable degree. He cups Gerard's ass through those ridiculously tight pants, letting out a moan of appreciation. He can feel a sheen of sweat pool high on his chest and drip down and he hates Gerard a little for his bare arms.
Gerard sucks at his lip piercing, clanking his teeth against it. Frank's head tilts back and he's completely forgotten about the sizzling heat behind him, far too preoccupied with what's being given off in front. Still, his skin is itching and he wants to claw at his jacket and rip it off. Gerard must’ve read his mind because his hand slips beneath it and strokes at the damn skin of his stomach.
A few minutes later, when the kisses have turned dirty and desperate, and his leg is thrown across Gerard's thigh like a bitch in heat, he pulls away.
"Gotta stop," he pants against swollen lips.
"Why?” Gerard wonders, licking a line up his neck while pushing his erection harder against Frank's while his hand moves higher, twisting a nipple beneath his thumb and index fingers.
"Public. Messy. Bad.” One day he'll talk in full sentences again.
"I'm just gonna ravish you in the bunks anyway."
Frank half laughs, half moans. "Who the hell says 'ravish' outside of a trashy romance novel?"
"Fine, then I'll ravish someone else," Gerard smirks, pulling away.
Frankie tugs him forward, claiming his lips roughly. Claiming *Gerard*, yet he sure as hell won’t say it.
"Ravish away."
Gerard squints under the sun, smiling, and takes Frank's hand, leading him onto the bus.
It's officially his favorite photo shoot ever.