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"Are you ready?"
"Yes, sir."
"Your sixty second grace starts now, sweetheart. Run."
Frank forces the smile off his face, and like a dog after a car on a country road, he's off.
The night is cold when he bursts through the front door and down the porch steps, bitterly so, wind whipping through the cedar trees on their property and bringing the bitter tang of their scent to his nose, the taste to his tongue. His feet, bare and pale, practically glowing in the unobscured moonlight, patter over the dry, barren ground as he makes his way across the property.
When he breaches the line of the woods, the cedars overtake him, their smell bright and disorienting. How many seconds does he have? God, he doesn't fucking care.
The floor of the forest scrapes at his feet, branches and twigs, mossy rocks, leaves that snap and crunch under every footstep. A twig snags at the thin material of his clothes- a thin white cotton nightdress, with a skirt that reaches his lower thigh-, and his whole body vibrates, like it's matching the smaller trees being swept by the wind.
He's fairly sure his minute is up by now, and every nerve in him buzzes to life.
Using his knowledge of the property to keep him oriented, Frank runs till he knows he's too close to the half full creek bed, till the trees grow thicker, the cedar and pine so overwhelmingly sharp on his tongue.
Off in the distance, he hears a crisp sound in the dry leaves. The sound of work boots. Heavy, old, 'don't-make-em-like-they-used-to' work boots, slogging through the autumn leaves.
Next comes a vibrant voice, piercing the blanket of windy silence over the property. "...is terribly childish, pet! Running away like this, you know better, don't you?" Fading in mid sentence, like he just got his voice loud enough- or drew near enough-, Gerard makes his presence known.
Frank's whole being vibrates like an imaginary music cue should've filled up the silence, and he begins to creep. Slowly through the thick and the cedar he makes his way, keeping track of the drag of Gerard's boots.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are, darling!" Gerard's voice rings out, closer now, and Frank's heart drops, clunking when it settles, like the way an elevator feels adrift when it finally stops.
He knows he's fucked up greatly and immeasurably- his spine and stomach tingling at the realization- when a beam of light shines upon a nearby tree from far away, the glow of the brightest flashlight in the house.
Following the beam with his eyes, he sees the slowly approaching shape of a man.
He knows he's moved too slow, gotten stupid, when he hears Gerard's maniacally happy cry of "I found you, sweet thing!", like something out of a horror flick, jump-starting his heart in his chest, like the pull on a chainsaw before it roars to life.
And he's off. Tearing off in the opposite direction, he doesn't even care about sneaking around, and the way Gerard's boots beat into the ground makes his mind surge with too many unintelligible thoughts.
"Oh, don't do this!" Gerard's voice isn't scary when he's him, but the way he pulls his best tricks out for nights like this, tricks learned from years of community theater and a horror obsession... God, it makes him terrifying. "You've been so good till now, love!"
The air is cold, but hearing him yell that into the night makes Frank burn, so hot that if the ground was frosted over, he's sure he could melt it, like some sort of depraved, needy superhuman.
He knows these woods like the back of his hand, and he knows Gerard does too, so their chase doesn't lead them to danger, save for unprecedented stumbles over knotted branches and tree roots on Frank's part. Though even when he knows the woods so well, Frank does get himself turned around sometimes, and when he finds himself face to face once again with Gerard, who's closing the distance between them faster than he can even think, it rips a scream from his lips, swiftly covered by one of Gerard's nimble hands as he drags Frank in the remaining foot of distance, till his face is pressed into the sturdy old wool of Gerard's coat.
"There we are," Gerard purrs, fingers still locked down tight on Frank's body, over his mouth. "Silly girl, since when has running ever solved a thing?"
Before Frank can process out an argument, mind reeling amidst the heat from Gerard's body and the warm bitterness of his cologne, not to even mention the dizzying shock to his mind that being called a girl always brings, Gerard is shrugging off his woolen coat, draping it over his smaller frame.
"You'll catch your death out here, darling," Gerard scolds, and before Frank can even squirm, before he can barely get out a whimper, he's lifting him, wrapped tight in the dark grey coat, up over his shoulder. He feels Gerard's hand adjust his dress, tugging down the hem, as if protecting his modesty is the most important thing in his mind. "You know how easily you get sick, would you rather that happen- and worry me to death- than stay safe?"
The possessive bite in his tone, and the way his hold tightens on Frank's body earns a feeble noise from Frank, who can never seem to find his voice at first in scenes, mute from some choked mess of arousal that makes him feel depraved.
Forest floor swaying beneath him as Gerard starts to move, so suddenly that he has to screw his eyes shut and bite out a curse, Frank starts up his struggling, makes an attempt to get free. But even as he jerks and tugs, even landing his knee against Gerard's ribcage with a soft sound of impact, Gerard just scolds him, voice fond in a deeply sinister way.
"Honestly, pet, I don't know what a lovely young thing like you earns being so stiff," He chides, "But don't you worry that pretty little head, I'll set you straight in no time."
Squirming fervently at his words, Frank stumbles over an insult, but finds nothing other than an angry " Go to hell!" in his blanking brain.
The way Gerard responds "Oh, darling, you don't mean that! That's no way to speak to your fiancé…." is laced with amusement, but the looming implication that he'll come to regret his obstinance sets off firecrackers in the pit of Frank's stomach.
The lights of the house come into view after a trudging walk, laden with dark insinuations and the intoxicatingly sharp scent of cedar, so heavy that Frank's mind spins from it.
Climbing the steps to the front porch, Gerard's boots fall heavy against the old wood. Heavy with excitement, like a little kid on Christmas running down to unwrap their new toys, and the sound makes Frank's heart hammer in his chest, thrumming hard against the barrier of his ribs.
Shoving the front door open with the toe of his boot, Gerard chides, "Honestly, pet, I can't believe the nerve of you sometimes. Don't you worry though, we'll set you straight as a pin, no matter what it takes…."
Frank's heart leaps up into his throat, and his cock stirs in interest under the thin material of his skirt. "F-fuck you…!" He spits, the air and impact knocked out of his words from lingering shock. "M'gonna-"
"Mind your tongue, darling," Gerard scolds, his act not slipping for a second, save for the ghost of a smile in his voice. "Really, I hate to do this, but you're just digging yourself deeper at this point." The curt, sugary tone to his voice, like Frank is a naughty child he caught with one hand in the cookie jar, brings red to his face in traces, but he decides to blame it on the warmth of the house.
Taking a seat on the old sofa in the living room, Gerard takes a moment to settle Frank down onto his lap. Now that he's lit up by the warm light of the house, Frank can see him in all his detail. The light catches his cheekbones, accentuates the sharp lines of his face. His hair, dark as the black outside, falls in his face, casting sharp shadows, thin, inky tendrils falling over his face. Gerard is clad in a dress shirt, the white fabric stained with flecks dirt from the chase, a pair of black suspenders stretching over his body, sharpening every form and making him look classically masculine, like something out of an old movie.
Fuck.
"Let me go," Frank insists, with a sharp struggle that lands Gerard's left thigh slotted firmly between his legs, drawing a starved gasp from his lips. " Please." God, he's so unconvincing.
"And why would you want that?" Gerard asks, fingers tracing the line of Frank's jaw tenderly. "Silly girl, you need me…."
Choking on his words, Frank tries to respond, but all he can get out is a dry "um-" before Gerard is continuing, "Though, what you need most at the moment, I think, is a bit of discipline."
Before Frank can even fake a protest, Gerard switches the firm hold he's got on Frank's shoulders, tugging him down over his knee, ass up, and God, Frank forgets how strong he is sometimes.
" Shit, I-" Unable to even remember what he wanted to say, Frank feels like every nerve ending in his body lights up like a switchboard when Gerard pushes his nightdress up, the thin fabric fluttering before it settles.
Fingers hooking into the waistband of his panties, Gerard tugs down the thin scrap of lace and cotton to rest at Frank's knees, preemptively curbing some of his squirming. "Honestly, am I going to have to wash your mouth out too?" He scolds, taking a moment to do something that, upon awkwardly craning his neck, Frank finds to be rolling up his sleeves to his forearms. "This is no way to speak to someone you're going to marry, pet."
There it is. Frank's mind blanks the second those words process through it, and the only thing that brings him back down to this world is a testing strike to his ass from a steady palm. The impact drags a moan, anguished and penitent from his lips, and his cock twitches against Gerard's thigh.
"I think fifteen more of these for trying to run from me, and then ten for your language ought to do for now, don't you?" Gerard asks, thinly veiling the boyish excitement in his voice.
Swallowing the lump of want in his throat, Frank manages a small "Y-yeah, s'fair….", his voice wavering and so needy .
"There's a girl…" Gerard purrs, thick and low and so fucking pleased, "You know you need this, don't you?"
Before Frank can even begin to form a response, another strike lands, shocking any thoughts out of his head. " Fuck…" He moans weakly. "N-no, I just…!"
"I know it hurts, darling, but you need to be reminded of your place." Voice soothing, Gerard's hand pets over Frank's burning skin for a moment. Then one, two, three, four more strikes land in quick succession. "How many is that, pet?"
Frank screws his eyes shut for a moment, trying to keep track, but it's hard to think with Gerard talking like that, making his brain blank and his cock jump to attention. "F-five, it's five," He stammers, squirming when another blow comes down.
"Good girl," Gerard drawls back, and Frank moans, dizzy from pleasure and melting from the heat coursing through his every vein. " God, the nerve of you sometimes, running away for no reason… we'll make it right though, you'll see, darling, no matter what I need to do to set you straight."
His words make Frank squirm in poorly veiled delight , the chilling authority in Gerard's tone making his mind hum like the old, fragile bulb in the porch light outside.
He can smell the cedar from outside in Gerard's slacks, he observes hazily.
Frank's mind is reeling with blank lust as he takes hit after hit, with Gerard asking what number they're on after every fifth blow, as if the number slips his mind, a way to check in on his coherency, if he's slipping or not, without breaking character.
"If this is what you plan on doing every time you're alone, darling," Gerard begins, bringing another firm strike down- the twenty-second-, on the sensitive tops of Frank's thighs this time, "Then I ought to tie you to the bed, make sure you actually get your sleep. A girl needs her beauty rest, that time shouldn't be wasted wandering out in the cold."
Blood rushes to Frank's head, his mind light and cheeks flushed. "I-I know, please, m'sorry…." He mumbles, voice penitent and full of blind need. A soft "mh!" jumps from his desperate throat when Gerard spanks him- hit twenty-three-, somewhere between his ass and the backs of his thighs. Then comes twenty-four, and twenty-five, in quick succession, one after the other.
"That's how many now, darling?" Gerard asks, gives him a minute to process.
Breathing deep, smelling cedar and his own lust, heady and sharp as nails, Frank settles halfway back into his own head. "T-twenty-five…." He murmurs.
Gerard re-situates his clothes and tugs him upright, gradually, but still sharp enough to make his head spin with want as he slips into place, Gerard's leg nesting between his once again. "There we are, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" He coos, cradling Frank's jaw in the 'v' of his thumb and forefinger as he draws him in for a kiss.
Moaning out of a hazy kind of lust, Frank just barely remembers to play the resistant runaway, tries to plant his palms on Gerard's chest and push back, but one little shift of his thigh has Frank whimpering like a puppy, high pitched and confused.
Gerard's hands slip down to tug up the front of his dress as he breaks the kiss. "My, what a filthy thing you are… I honestly can't believe I'm taking such a harlot as my wife…." He murmurs, fingers trailing down to pet over Frank's panty-clad cock where it makes an unseemly little bulge in the lace. "Naughty girl, I ought to lock you up till our wedding night, maybe then you'd learn to behave, hm?"
"M- mh, don't, please, I can… I-I can be good for you," Frank tries pathetically, his voice breaking. "I can be good, I promise."
Gerard's eyes go dark when he speaks, blackening with lust. "Minx," He purrs, lips quirking up into a brief smile. "Is that how you want to play? You want to do everything you can so I'll fuck you now, don't you? Running off like you did was just a trick, wasn't it?" Cupping Frank's face in his hands, he laughs under his breath. "You little slut…."
"I-I'm not, no, I just…" Frank trails off, face burning up under Gerard's touch. The warm, bitter smell of his cologne makes Frank's head spin and his heart hammer, and without even realizing he's doing it, he drives his hips down in an awkward, needy motion, rutting against Gerard's thigh. Fuck, he wants. He doesn't even know what he wants. Fuck.
Almost unaware of how he's moving, his brain goes !!! when he's pinned under Gerard on the sofa. He doesn't even know how the other moves like that, quick and intense, but he's grinning like a wolf, like he means to devour Frank whole. Yes.
"Darling," He almost seethes, deep-rooted lust dripping from his words like blood, "I hope you know what you do to me…." His hands move slow, one holding Frank's wrists above his head still, the other dragging down to undo his pants, bring them down to his thighs. "I know we're supposed to wait, pet, but don't worry, we'll make an honest woman of you, mark my words…."
Tugging his boxers down, Gerard gives his cock a few slow strokes, till it plumps up in his hand, hard and thick and red at the tip. He tugs his hand away slowly, going to ruck up Frank's skirt and drag his panties down to his knees again. "Spread your legs, darling, and keep them like that. I'm not opposed to finding something to tie you up with if you misbehave."
A whimper leaving his lips, Frank spreads his legs obediently. Gerard's hand creeps down once he's allowed access, till he can slowly brush a finger over his hole, dipping the very tip in for a brief second and smiling when it comes away wet with lube. "God, look at you, all wet for me… what a woman, darling…." He purrs, and Frank thanks his pre-scene self for remembering to prep, his cock throbbing at Gerard's praise.
Gerard lines up, gripping the shaft of his cock as he slowly pushes in. A shudder wracking his body, Frank's back arches off the sofa, like he's a man possessed. "O-oh, God… that's…."
"Fuck, darling, you're so tight…." Voice low and thick with reverent lust, Gerard's hips jerk forward, his eyes full of captivated, animal need. "Taking me so well, such a good girl…." He moans, Frank's hips bucking fruitlessly as he slowly, gradually bottoms out.
Gasping like there's not enough air for him to take into his lungs, Frank squirms beneath him, his resistant persona held together by tattered scraps of acting talent. "N-no, oh… th-this is…." His hands tense where Gerard holds them, like his tendons should be bursting from his skin, like he's held by chains instead of flesh.
"Darling, oh, you're beautiful… you make me so happy, my pet…." Gerard drawls out, tugging back slowly before thrusting into Frank with all the passion of the crazed lover he plays at being. He buries his face in the crook of Frank's neck to leave marks, the sharp, biting kisses he leaves on the tender skin drawing appropriately high-pitched cries from Frank's lips. "You're going to be beautiful- oh-"
Frank sobs in pleasure beneath him, all thoughts of resistance melting from his mind as Gerard fucks him into the sofa, the old frame of it groaning softly beneath them.
Minutes later, crying out, sharp and strangled and inhuman, Gerard stutters through his peak, hips moving like an animal's as he fills Frank with his cum. He's always one to reach his climax quickly, and Frank moans, loud and shrill, as Gerard uses him through it, till his movements are less thrusts and more fucked-out shakes, and he eventually sinks down into the couch on top of him.
"Fuck," Frank laughs, "That was amazing, but do you think you could get me off before you crash?"
Nuzzling into his neck, Gerard nods, bringing a hand down to wrap around Frank's still aching cock. "God, you're such a good boy…." He murmurs, "Was all that okay for you…? Did I do everything you wanted? Do you need any-"
Frank shushes him with a kiss, cupping his face in his hands as he pulls him in briefly. "M'fine, m'fine… that was so good, mh…." He moans, arching into Gerard's hand.
It takes hardly any time for Gerard to bring him to his orgasm, pent up from the long scene, and he spills over his hand with a soft cry.
Once he's come down from his buzzing, spinning high, Frank presses into Gerard's warm body, arms around him like two weights.
"You're the best creepy husband a guy could want," He murmurs dizzily, a dopey smile crossing his face.
Sinking down into his arms, a deep fog of exhaustion over his features, Gerard laughs. "Not so bad yr'self, darling…."
Frank fucking loves him.