Archive of Our Own

“See you tomorrow, man!” Ray claps him on the shoulder and heads toward the parking lot. They've been shooting SING all night and Frank's so fucking tired he's loopy. He's pretty sure he tried to do dust angels on the pavement outside at one point. The point is, he's not even sure what's going on around him anymore. Tomorrow, and the rehearsals and everything else that will come with it, seems like a million years away. His mind is a whirl of ray guns and running around pretending to fire them. And standing back and watching while Grant and Gerard got their close-ups for the dramatic death scene.

Frank has eyes, okay, and he's not so tired he hasn't noticed these looks passing between Gerard and Grant. He's not sure how everyone hasn't noticed, actually. For about ten seconds he's just jealous. And then he takes another ten seconds to review everything he knows about Gerard, and about Grant, and he’s not surprised at all. Gerard is looking unfairly beautiful right now, carrying himself like a gunslinger, red hair like a flag, but then again, Frank’s never surprised when people want Gerard. Usually, though, he ignores it, but this is Grant, and he’s a friend, and … well, those looks weren’t one-sided. He thinks to himself, dude, you can work with this. He’s got to.

“Man, you may as well just go home now,” Jon says walking up, nodding toward where Gerard and Grant are still chatting. “At this rate, they’ll be at it for hours.”

Frank laughs and rolls his eyes. “Hey, thanks for coming out, man. And for all your help on this.” He slings an arm around Jon’s shoulders and squeezes.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jon says and saunters off in the same direction Ray went.

Frank looks back over to Gerard and Grant. Gerard's clearly just as loopy as Frank, but still wired, gestures getting spastic. Frank saunters over and wraps his arms around Gerard and nuzzles. Like Hey. Hi. Here I am. They've been so busy today he's barely had a chance to stand still, much less anything else. And Gerard just wraps an arm around Frank and keeps talking. But Grant totally looks at Frank and - smirks. Frank's not imagining that. Okay, so Grant's clearly down for whatever. But he’s holding back, obviously, waiting to see what Frank does about it. Frank returns the smirk and runs his thumb along this spot on Gerard's neck that makes him shiver, every time. And Gerard does, because yeah, it's a spot for him, but when he doesn't complain like he usually does when Frank starts getting overly handsy in public ... that's when Frank knows Gerard realizes something’s going on. Frank doesn’t do anything more, doesn’t say anything. They can wait. He’s still thinking.

They're all still in full costume, so they wander back to the RV they're using as a wardrobe trailer. The lot's pretty deserted. Most everyone else has already bailed, and the crew is busy packing up the equipment. Frank waves Grant and Gerard inside; the props person is looking kind of twitchy, and Frank stops her on the pavement outside and says, "Sorry we kept you, go home, we promise we'll put everything back where it belongs.” He gets a very dubious look in return. But he leans in farther and says confidentially, "Gerard is here, he's anal as hell about this shit, you saw it this morning! We promise." And he gives her his most earnest expression and smiles, and it works. Everyone leaves. Frank waits out on the pavement for a couple minutes, watching the crew walk back to the vehicles and contemplating having a smoke, wondering what he'll find when he goes inside. It’s very quiet. He pulls open the door, letting it click shut behind him. When he sees what’s going on, he reaches back and locks it too. Grant has Gerard's jacket down around his elbows so he can't really move his arms and is kissing the hell out of him.

Apparently he underestimated just how heated things were getting back there. Apparently, he underestimated how long they could hold out. Okay, then. Frank clears his throat and Grant pulls back and smirks at him again, still with that underlying question. Gerard whines and bites his lip and looks beseechingly at Frank. They don't usually - okay, this isn't the first time something like this has happened, but it's definitely the first time it's happened with Grant fucking Morrison. So Frank saunters over, licking his lips, watching Gerard's eyes light up as they fix on his mouth. Frank gets in really close before he fakes him out, getting up on his toes and kissing Grant instead. He leaves Gerard just standing there, and in Frank's mind this is totally payback for all the looks Frank wasn't a part of, for not fucking waiting.

Frank only feels Grant’s tiny startle because he’s pressed right up against him. He hesitates, starting to pull back, and Grant grabs onto the back of his neck, holds him in place, kissing him so fucking dirty. And it's - nice, that Grant seems to appreciate him as much as he does Gerard. If “nice” means "hot enough to drain all the blood out of his brain". Also hot? When he sneaks a peek and sees the look on Gerard's face while he's watching them. When they break apart, Gerard's mouth is actually hanging open and he just... Frank has to kiss him then. Payback be damned, he hasn't had his mouth on Gerard all day.

And when he moves in, Gerard actually pushes him away. “What the fuck?” Frank complains. Of course he complains; this was going so well. Gerard shrugs out of his jacket, going on and on about their costumes and how more dirt would be acceptable for Frank and Gerard, but Colleen would kill them if they got ripped, and Grant can't have any dirt at all. Weirdly, it’s not even a boner-killer. Frank feels as if he should maybe not find Gerard's anal retentive side quite such a turn on, but he really does. Plus, he talks more when he’s nervous. Frank’s glad he’s nervous, because he himself is a fucking dangerous mix of turned on and freaked out right now.

As he watches Gerard hang his jacket up on the rack, Frank spots Ricky's outfit and grins. "Dunno why we couldn't have you wear that, Gee," he teases.

"Because the pants I do wear leave so much to the imagination," Gerard snarks.

“You picked ‘em, Princess,” he says, shoving Gerard into a corner and groping him good-naturedly. Gerard shoves him back and pulls off his t-shirt, and Frank still can’t believe he’s like this now, completely unselfconscious for maybe the first time since Frank’s known him, and Frank forgets to breathe for a moment. He can't stand it anymore. He needs to kiss him now. It's been hours. All day. He grabs Gerard's hips and pulls him forward, kissing him until they're panting, but Frank can't seem to keep his mouth off Gerard's long enough to catch his breath, and he doesn’t care anyway.

"Well, don't the two of you make a pretty picture?" Oops. Frank forgot for a second about the audience. They've known Grant for long enough that really, the accent shouldn't take him by surprise anymore, but sometimes it just does, and Frank won't even try to deny that it's totally hot. Grant puts a hand on each of their shoulders and leans down to talk to Gerard. “I told you, didn’t I?” he says, like he’s just continuing a conversation. He probably is. God, he’s so much like Gerard sometimes. “Let yourself be creative, you’ll be amazed what happens.” He’s got this warm light in his eyes, but he somehow manages to make it sound like a come-on, too, and he leans in to kiss Gerard again, and then turns to whisper to Frank.

"This video.... He's been a tease all day," Grant murmurs into Frank's ear, but Frank can tell Gerard heard it by the way he twitches under Frank's hands. "Let's give him another taste, yes?" Frank grins and lets go of Gerard, wrapping his arms around Grant's neck as Grant explores his mouth. Frank can feels Gerard's eyes on them and he rolls his hips against Grant's thigh. He has to break the kiss to moan a bit, part of it for show, part of it because it feels really fucking good. Gerard breathes in sharply through his nose and Frank smirks. Grant catches his eye and returns the smirk with one of his own, but then he's leaning right back in.

When they finally stop kissing, Gerard is sitting on the small sofa in the trailer, jeans open and pushed down far enough that he can palm his dick through his briefs. Grant shoots him a look and Gerard takes his hand away immediately. His mouth is red and shiny and pretty much the hottest thing Frank has ever seen. Frank wants Gerard's mouth. Anywhere he can get it. But Grant has a firm grip on his hips and doesn't seem to be willing to let him go quite yet. Which is not something Frank can honestly say that he minds.

"Gerard, come here," Grant orders quietly. Gerard stands and closes the distance between them, but stops before touching, clearly waiting for Grant's next order. Frank can’t even deal. He and Gerard play around sometimes, sure, and he knows he’s easy for Gerard, but he’s never, ever seen Gerard so instantly obedient. Once again, he thinks that maybe he should be jealous; but the truth is, Frank can’t say he’s not enjoying it; it’s that unbearably hot. And Grant’s watching them both. He knows. “Don’t you think you should help Frank with that body armor?” he asks.

Gerard’s reaching for him instantly, and he helped design the fucking costume, he should know how it works - Frank certainly doesn’t, he needed to be helped into it too - but it seems like Gerard takes forever to get it unfastened, his face pink-cheeked and serious as his hands tug at various straps and fasteners. Frank takes a deep breath and holds it, feeling the light touches on various spots on his torso, arms, neck. He looks from the bared nape of Gerard’s neck under the fringe of red hair to Grant’s face. Grant’s watching silently, dark eyes not giving anything away.

Finally Gerard is done, and he naturally has to make sure the armor pieces are put safely away. While he’s fussing, Frank strips off his shirt and shoes for good measure. He pauses with his hands at his belt and looks at Grant. “Well?”

“Well what?” Grant asks, mouth quirking a little at the corners.

“It’s the first time I stripped in front of a comic book villain,” he counters, “ - and the costume closet doesn’t count,” he shoots over his shoulder, stifling a laugh at Gerard’s offended little noise. “Aren’t you gonna - “ He gestures vaguely to Grant’s Korse getup.

Grant shrugs. "If that's what you want." Frank is pretty sure Grant's voice was made entirely of sex just then. And then Frank actually parses what Grant said and his knees tremble. Gerard is getting orders; Frank is getting choices. He may have instigated this, but he was fully prepared to let Grant take the lead and order him around too. Expected it, in fact. But this.

"Uh," Frank stares at Grant for a moment, any number of scenarios running through his head, but... "Take it off, or Gerard will bitch."

Grant smirks, "And that would be a problem?"

"Yes," Frank says emphatically. Grant chuckles and slips off his frock coat.

"Gerard? I believe you'll want to hang up my clothing." Grant hands off the coat without breaking eye contact with Frank and starts in on the buttons of the vest and then the shirt. There really aren't many buttons to undo, which Frank thanks Gerard for mentally. Gerard slips behind Grant and pulls the clothing off his shoulders and disappears out of Frank's vision to hang them up. Grant unbuttons his pants and pulls them off and Frank's mouth waters instantly. It's not that he didn't have some idea. Grant doesn't exactly make it a practice of wearing pants that conceal. But. Damn.

Grant closes the few feet between them and puts his hand on the waistband of Frank's pants. "Do you want me to take them off? Or do you want Gerard to?" Frank glances up at Gerard who clearly spent less time fussing with Grant's clothes than he did with Frank's and he's looking... Frank can't even describe it, but he has a really hard time looking back at Grant. Grant rubs his thumbs along Frank's belly and Frank shivers.

"Gerard. Gerard should do it," Frank says breathlessly.

Gerard steps up, fingers curling around Frank’s belt buckle and tugging it open. He tips his forehead against Frank’s and whispers, “Hey, Frank. Hey.” He’s smiling, just a little, but Frank knows him, knows his way of checking in. He thinks maybe this isn’t exactly what Gerard was expecting either. He’s pretty sure Grant knows that. He’s pretty sure Grant doesn’t care.

“I had no idea,” Frank whispers back, “that you had - that you wanted - is this okay?” he finishes, words failing him a little. He just has to - It’s beyond picking up a third, at this point. Grant’s a friend, he knows them; knows them a little better than Frank had realized, apparently. He wouldn’t have thought Grant was paying attention. But.

Gerard has been petting gently at Frank’s stomach as he talks, but he stops and asks, “Is it okay?” Frank looks him in the eye and nods, and Gerard goes back to working at the button and zip of Frank’s jeans. He tugs them down, taking Frank’s briefs with them, and when he helps Frank step out of the denim he’s completely naked.

Frank hasn’t felt this exposed in a long time. Behind him, he can feel Grant take a step closer, tracing gently over some of the tattoos people seldom see. “Very nice,” Grant says.

Gerard’s still kneeling at Frank’s feet, crumpled denim in his hand; he looks up over Frank’s shoulder and says, “I know.”

Frank thinks he’s maybe missing something, but then Grant leans over to whisper in his ear. “Tell me what you want, pretty boy.”

Frank squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. Gerard’s still in front of him. He can feel a hand resting gently on his shin, and he looks down quickly; Gerard’s eyes flick back and forth between Frank and Grant. “I want you to fuck me,” Frank says, voice husky. Because … yeah. He’s not an idiot, he’s going to take the fucking opportunity. “I want him to watch.” He chances another look at Gerard; his eyes are huge, mouth hanging open a little as he takes in little panting breaths. “He can have us both later, if he holds off till you say.”

Grant runs the back of his fingers down Frank's neck, across his clavicle and back up. He leans down and Frank can feel Grant's lips on the shell of his ear, "Excellent choices." Frank shivers and Gerard's hand clenches around his shin.

"Gerard." Frank watches Gerard's eyes move to meet Grant's. "Prepare him for me."

Frank can barely hold himself up anymore and is very grateful when Grant moves him gently but firmly toward the trailer sofa. Grant has him kneel with his elbows on top of the back cushion. He feels even more exposed than before when he hears Grant and Gerard have a whispered conversation and some movement. Then Gerard's hand is on his back. He knows it's Gerard. He knows by the way the fingers are splayed, by the way they twitch the tiniest bit and then stroke down to Frank's hip.

"Frankie," Gerard whispers and Frank has to turn his head to look. Apparently the movement was Grant leaving the room because it's just Gerard there; his eyes are full of so many things, Frank has to reach back and tug him in for a kiss. Something to tell Gerard everything he can't articulate at the moment. He pulls back when he hears Grant come back in the room. He's carrying some necessary supplies and looking at them appreciatively.

"So very beautiful," he murmurs as he sits down next to Frank. "Prepare him, Gerard. Use your tongue."

Frank swallows hard, trying to maintain eye contact with Grant as he hears Gerard kneel behind him, then as Gerard's lips touch where the revolvers are on his back and move down. Then his hands are on Frank's ass and spreading him open and his tongue is just there and Frank can't do anything but close his eyes and fucking breathe.

Gerard’s hot breath is flooding over Frank’s skin. He’s licking, gently but thoroughly, pressing in with the very tip of his tongue at Frank’s opening over and over and over until Frank’s hips jerk of their own accord, grinding his dick into the cushions of the couch. “Christ, Gerard,” he mutters. Gerard moans. Frank presses his face into his forearm and bites his lip, hard. He feels the couch cushions shift; Grant tugs his hair a little till he looks up, then presses his thumb against the dents in Frank’s lip.

“Are you ready?” he asks, and Frank’s eyes widen a little as he tries to stammer out a response. Hell no, he isn’t ready for that - Grant laughs, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners, and then Frank has to hold back a yelp as fingers press in suddenly. Fucking Gerard, can’t stand being upstaged for long. He’s using two fingers already; he knows how Frank likes it, knows that if he leans in again and - yes, there it is, his tongue again and then the third. Fuuuuuuuuck. Frank throws his head back and sucks in a couple breaths. Grant runs a hand down Frank’s throat, spreads his fingers across Frank’s chestpiece. He’s still watching Frank’s face; when their eyes meet, Frank nods.

Grant holds out the condom to Gerard and lifts an eyebrow. And then Gerard's hand is gone and Frank hears himself make the most pathetic noise. Gerard laughs at him, the fucker.

"Fuck you," Frank gasps out as Gerard tears open the condom wrapper.

"That's not in the plan for tonight," Grant reminds him. Frank briefly wants to kill them both, but then Gerard is rolling the condom down Grant's cock and for the first time he looks like all this might be affecting him just as much as it is Frank and Gerard. Grant’s eyes slide closed and he grips the base of his cock firmly. They wait a moment while he gets himself under control. When Grant opens his eyes again he reaches out, puts a hand on the back of Gerard's neck and pulls him in for a kiss. It seems endless and Frank can barely keep from whining.

It's Gerard that pulls back, finally. Frank’s not sure what the look that passes between them means, but it seems to go on forever too. And then Grant is pulling Frank around and over, into his lap. Frank doesn't really have any leverage, and he flails around briefly before he realizes it doesn't matter - because Grant's strong enough to hold him up.

"A little assistance if you please, Gerard," Grant grits out behind him. Gerard reaches between them, his fingers brushing Frank and then Frank feels the tip of Grant's cock pushing against him for a second before Grant starts relaxing his hold, letting Frank slip down and into his lap. Frank moans long and loud. He can't hold it in. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut and the only thing he feels is Grant's cock. After a few seconds he becomes aware of Gerard plastering himself to their sides. He grabs Frank's hand and laces their fingers together.

"Frank, do you have any idea how - oh, fuck, so beautiful," Gerard says. He kisses the tip of the tattoo just below Frank's ear and turns his head. Frank hears Gerard and Grant kissing, hears the tiny noises he’s not sure Gerard realizes he makes, and he wishes he could see it. He turns to look over his shoulder, getting a mouthful of Gerard’s hair for his trouble, and the arch of his back presses his hips harder into Grant’s and - fuck. He hisses and Gerard pulls back, squeezing his hand. “Frankie?” he whispers, eyes huge.

Grant slides a hand from Frank’s hip to his stomach, knuckles brushing Frank’s dick on the way, and Frank hisses again. Grant pulls him closer, holding him still when he writhes, kissing his shoulder, his neck, nipping at his earlobe and whispering, “Tell him how it feels, Frank.” He thrusts up, just a little, and Frank keens.

“Gee, fuck, it feels so fucking good, I can’t - “ He’s not gonna last much longer, he knows it. He wants to come so bad, wants Grant to come so bad - he already knows he’ll feel this for days. His mouth is watering. “Touch me, Gee.” He doesn’t care that he’s begging. Grant presses a firm hand against Frank’s stomach, starts thrusting up into him more forcefully, his other hand splaying across Frank’s back, pushing him forward till the new angle catches Frank’s prostate, the fucking sweet spot that makes him moan with every stroke. Gerard wraps a hand around Frank’s cock, stroking firmly as he presses his mouth against Frank’s shoulder. He’s just kissing at first but as Frank’s moans get louder - he can’t help himself, he can’t - he feels Gerard’s teeth, and it’s too fucking much and Frank groans as he comes all over Gerard’s hand and his own stomach and thighs.

Grant rides him out, tugging Frank back against his chest so he won’t fall as he slumps. Frank’s head lolls back against Grant’s shoulder; he’s still panting, so fucking sensitive and Grant’s still going. Grant leans down to kiss him, snapping his hips one, two, three more times before his breath catches and Frank can fucking feel him coming, deep inside.

Gerard curses under his breath, and Frank looks over; he’s fallen back onto his knees on the other end of the couch, hand wrapped tightly around his own cock, mouth falling open slack and pink. He’s still wearing his fucking jeans, dick standing up out of the open fly, flushed red and gleaming at the tip. Frank struggles to lean over; he’s still so fucking wrung out that Grant has to help him with a judicious push, laughing a little over a gasp as Frank slides off his cock.

Frank stretches out into Gerard’s lap, feeling the nap of the upholstery, the rub of denim, against his oversensitized skin. He’s pushing Gerard’s hand out of the way, wrapping his own fingers around Gerard’s hard-on and taking the rest in his mouth when he feels the couch shift. He’s already worked up a nice rhythm by the time the couch dips again under Grant’s weight, a knee pressing in between Frank’s hip and the edge of the cushion, body warm and heavy against Frank’s back as he leans in to, presumably, kiss Gerard again. “You were so good, Gerard,” Grant’s murmuring. “Did you like that, like watching me with your boy?”

Say yes, for fuck’s sake say yes, Frank would say, if his mouth wasn’t - occupied. He moans instead, nails digging into Gerard’s thigh, and Gerard seems to understand, to agree, thank fuck, because he gasps out an immediate yes, his hand tightening where it’s wrapped in a lock of Frank’s hair.

“Yes, Grant, fuck,” and Frank really wishes he could see Gerard’s face right now, because he’s getting all breathy and Frank just knows that Grant’s found that spot at the base of Gerard’s throat that drives him crazy. He lets go of the base of Gerard’s shaft and takes him in deeper, swallowing as best he can around the head of Gerard’s cock, shifting his hand to Gerard’s balls, and he can feel them draw up, knows Gerard’s about to come and pulls back, just far enough to swallow.

As soon as Gerard stops writhing around, he tugs on Frank’s hair and Frank pushes himself up, out of Gerard’s lap, wriggling upwards till he’s draped over Gerard’s chest. Gerard ducks his chin and kisses him, still half-desperate, licking at the corners of Frank’s mouth like he’s searching out his own taste. Grant tucks himself in behind Frank, an arm stretching out along the back of the couch. When Gerard pulls away from Frank’s mouth for a moment, Grant tucks a straggling lock of hair behind Gerard’s ear, and Gerard looks at him over Frank’s head.

“I’ve got to go,” Grant says. It’s clear in his voice that he doesn’t want to, but he stands up anyway, a hand skimming light down Frank’s back, nudging at Gerard’s arm. He walks over to the shelves holding all their street clothes, tugging on his briefs, shirt, white jeans, everpresent suit jacket. Frank boosts himself up a little against Gerard’s chest, turning his head so he can watch. Grant pulls a pair of sunglasses out of his breast pocket, fiddles with the earpieces for a moment before tucking them back in. He takes a step closer to the couch.

“Thank you,” he says simply. “For sharing him.”

It’s simple, matter-of-fact, but Frank feels his heart leap into his throat, suddenly too full of appreciation. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly.

“You’re welcome,” says Gerard at the exact same moment. Frank feels the rumbling of the words against his cheek and he freezes, then pushes himself up to look at Gerard. All he can do, all Gerard can do, is stare.

Grant, an arm’s length away, is chuckling a little. “You two,” he says, sounding fond and supremely unsurprised. “Oh, you two.” He leans down and kisses Frank one last time. “You’re both right, you know,” he adds, and then he’s going, leaning to kiss Gerard and then straightening, picking up his bag and heading for the door. “See you around.”

“See you soon,” Gerard counters. “We’ll be in the UK at the end of October.”

Grant smiles. “I know.”

When the door bangs shut behind him, Frank sneaks a look at Gerard. They’re both naked, messy, fucking disgusting, but he’d really like to stay right where he is for a little while longer, especially when he sees the expression on Gerard’s face as he looks back down at Frank. “You okay, Frankie?” he asks again.

Yeah. Eventually, they’ll have to get up, get dressed, go do rehearsals or interviews or photoshoots or whatever’s on the day’s schedule. Eventually they’ll get in a car, a bus, a plane and go. Eventually, they’ll even be in Edinburgh, and who the hell knows what will actually happen then? But for now? He finds Gerard’s hand, laces their fingers together. “Yeah, I’m good.”