Work Text:
When Frank came into the living room, Gerard held up his copy of Rose Madder and said, “Explain to me again why your books are allowed at home and mine aren’t.”
“Because your books are work books,” said Frank, taking the novel and placing it carefully back on the shelf. “And mine have stories in them.”
“Mine have stories!” Gerard protested, trailing Frank to the kitchen.
“Stories about Jesus.”
“Those are the best kind!”
Frank rolled his eyes. He had his back turned, but Gerard could see his reflection in the microwave. He opened the refrigerator, then closed it again. “We need groceries,” he said, turning around, and kissed Gerard’s cheek. “Come on.”
*
At the store, Frank sent Gerard in search of frozen vegetables, while he went off looking for fake meat. It was more complicated than it sounded: Gerard liked the brand-name peas with mint added, but Frank thought they were a rip-off and always bought generic, saying they could add mint at home. But they couldn’t, because they didn’t have mint. Between the two of them they always managed to kill every plant that Ray gave them. Gerard was holding a bag of each kind, looking between them and trying to decide if it was worth arguing with Frank about it today, when a voice said,
“Father Way?”
It had been a long time since anyone had called Gerard that, and for a second he froze, staring down at the peas like they could tell him what to do. They just cheerfully re-informed him that they were ‘pod to packed in 24 hours!’ though. Help, he begged in a panic, and then the voice said, “Father Way, is that you?” and this time a hand touched his arm.
He had no choice but to look up, and then he was so surprised that almost dropped the stupid peas on the floor. “Nicole?”
“I knew it was you!” she cried, and threw herself into his arms. Gerard waved the peas helplessly in the air for a second, then balanced them on a nearby stack of Crisco cans so he could hug Nicole back.
“It’s so good to see you,” he said happily, then pushed her back and frowned. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“We don’t start for a week. I’m just visiting some friends here before I go back.” Nicole did a funny little bounce in place, then lunged forward and hugged him again, her arms tight around his neck.
Gerard laughed and squeezed her shoulders. “And this is your last year, right?”
She drew back and nodded eagerly. “I’m pretty set on post-grad next year, though.”
“That’s awesome!” said Gerard, smiling so hard his face hurt. “I’m so proud of you!”
She waved her hand. “But what about you? You never give me any details in your emails. Are you at a new parish near here, or – oh.”
Nicole’s face fell, her eyes fixed on Gerard’s throat. He put his hand up instinctively, and for a second he was surprised to feel no collar there, just the worn cotton of – he checked – Frank’s Day of the Dead shirt.
“Oh, no,” said Nicole, genuine distress written in her face and voice. “They didn’t, Father, not because of me, they didn’t.”
“No!” Gerard said quickly, taking her hands again, but before he could explain Frank appeared, pushing their mostly-full cart with one hand, his eyes fixed on the list in the other.
“All right, they’re out of that cereal you like, we can try the place on the corner for that. But the chickpeas were on special so I hope you’re ready to make a whole shitload of curry-” he looked up and broke off, suddenly, folding the list up inside his hand and reaching up to flatten his hair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting,” Gerard said automatically.
Frank unfolded the list, then folded it again. He messed with his hair some more. “You’re holding hands with someone I don’t know,” he pointed out.
“Oh!” said Gerard, and dropped Nicole’s hands like they were burning him. Then he felt bad, because Nicole looked a little hurt, but on the other hand Frank’s forehead was doing that thundercloud thing it did sometimes, and it took a second before Gerard realized he was the only one who knew what was going on. “This is Nicole,” he blurted as quickly as possible. “From-”
“Your youth ministry, oh my God,” said Frank, face clearing, and he let go of the cart and hugged Nicole like he’d known her his whole life.
“Uh,” said Nicole, looking at Gerard over Frank’s shoulder. “Father?”
“This is Frank,” said Gerard.
“Hi Frank,” said Nicole, and then they both looked at Gerard expectantly.
“Frank is,” Gerard started, and then he didn’t know what to say. Frank hated the word partner, and lover didn’t really cover it, plus Gerard didn’t actually think he could say that out loud. He wasn’t sure Frank would appreciate being introduced as Gerard’s soulmate, even though it was true. This was the first time Gerard would be introducing Frank to someone who knew him as a priest, and he was blindsided and suddenly furious that there was no word for what Frank was to him.
“My boyfriend,” he settled on eventually, and Nicole made a comically shocked face, which Gerard could understand because Frank was really beautiful, even in sweatpants pushing chickpeas around the supermarket, and Gerard was as surprised as anyone else that they were together.
“Boyfriend,” Nicole repeated, clearly stunned, and then Gerard realized that this was also the first time he was not-a-priest to someone who was expecting him to be a priest, instead of just a guy trying to sneak overpriced vegetables past his thrifty other half. He rode a crazy little personal roller-coaster through nausea, liberation and terror, and he realized he must have been silent for a while because Frank was getting thundercloudy again, but then Nicole went, “Oh my God!” and hugged first Gerard, then Frank, then Gerard again.
“You never said anything!” she said accusingly, shaking Gerard’s shoulder. “All those emails!”
Gerard shuffled a little closer to Frank. “It was kind of complicated,” he said, and hoped Nicole wouldn’t ask him to explain because he didn’t know how to do it without bringing demon possession into the mix.
“It isn’t complicated anymore,” Frank said, and rubbed Gerard’s arm.
“No,” said Gerard. He snuck a glance at Nicole.
She was all pink and waving her hands around. “I’m so happy for you!” she said. Her voice wobbled.
Gerard felt his mouth stretch itself into a grin. “Thank you,” he said.
She shook her head and blinked a lot. “I really hoped you’d be happy. After what happened – I prayed for you to be happy. I prayed for you every day.”
“Nicole,” said Gerard, and hugged her again. Her hair was tangled in the strap of her purse; he moved it carefully out of the way. “Thank you,” he whispered. “It worked.”
“Give me your address,” she said, after she’d found a Kleenex and composed herself a little. “I want to come and visit you before I go back to school.”
Her cell rang not long after that, and she excused herself to go and meet a friend. Frank and Gerard stood looking at each other in the frozen foods aisle for a while.
Frank said, “Did you get the peas?”
Gerard pointed at the Crisco cans.
Frank tutted over the fact that the peas were half-melted and why couldn’t Gerard hold his reunions near the dried goods instead. He put the two packages back in the freezer cabinet and got out a fresh one.
“Someone else is going to get melty peas!” said Gerard, and felt bad about it all the way to the checkout, but then he forgot because he was too busy trying to keep up with Frank’s insane bag-packing regimen.
As they pushed the full cart to the car, Gerard said, “You know, I think Craig pays us enough that we don’t have to eat chickpea curry just because it’s cheap.”
“I like your chickpea curry,” said Frank. He opened the trunk. “The fact that it’s cheap is just a bonus.”
Gerard didn’t say anything else about it, just helped Frank put the bags in the trunk. He didn’t know what it was like to worry over grocery bills. He didn’t grow up poor, not can’t-buy-milk poor. He never had to go without anything, and then the Church had taken away his need to think about money at all. He’d never had his phone cut off, he’d never had to choose between food and heat. He’d never been sick and found that the medicine he needed was too expensive. Peas didn’t matter.
He couldn’t help but notice, though, when he lifted the bag of cold stuff into the trunk, that the corner of a package was sticking out, and it had a drawing of a happy little pod on it, and the pod was waving a mint leaf like a flag.
“These are the expensive kind!” he said to Frank, pointing.
“Yeah, whaddya know,” Frank said like it was nothing to do with him, but Gerard could see him grinning as he wedged the fabric softener into a little gap.
When they got in the car, Frank didn’t start it up right away. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked over at Gerard, instead.
“That was fucking weird,” said Gerard. “When she called me Father.”
“It fucking was,” Frank agreed. He held his arm out, and Gerard scooted across the seat and up against Frank’s side. Frank rubbed his back, slowly. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Me either,” said Gerard. Frank squeezed him closer. Frank didn’t know what to say a lot of the time, Gerard thought, but he could hug like a motherfucker.
Then he said, “You want to stop and get some coffee?” which just showed that he did know what to say after all.
“What about the peas?” said Gerard.
“They’ll keep.” Frank winked at him, and started the car. “That’s why I pack all the cold stuff together, genius.”
They sailed past Starbucks, though, and Gerard turned indignantly to Frank. “You passed Starbucks!”
“We’re not going to Starbucks.”
“Why aren’t we going to Starbucks?”
“Because I hate Starbucks.”
“But we always go to Starbucks!”
“And I always hate it.”
“But we always go anyway,” Gerard insisted. “I don’t hate it. Mikey says there’s a new mug I haven’t seen!”
“You got your stupid rich-guy peas, okay, quit bitching,” said Frank, and took a left turn.
They pulled in outside a little coffee-shop with a cheerful red-striped awning. “This looks okay,” Gerard said grudgingly, and got out.
Frank grabbed his hand as they walked towards the door. It still made Gerard feel a little twitchy to be affectionate in public – well, that wasn’t really true. Affectionate with Frank, he had no problem hugging Mikey or whatever. He knew that made Frank think he was a jerk. It made Gerard feel like a jerk. He was working on it, and part of that was to squeeze tight to Frank’s hand instead of lighting a cigarette or checking his phone.
Frank squeezed back, and led Gerard inside. He let go as they approached the counter, and the kid behind it looked up and smiled a little blankly, all, “Hey, guys, what can I get you?” (at Starbucks they don’t have to ask, Gerard bitched silently) until he got a good look at Frank, and then his eyes flew wide.
“Frankie!” he said, wiping his hands compulsively on his apron. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”
“Tell me about it,” Frank drawled, and leaned on the counter like he wanted to take it home. “How’s it going, Kevin?”
This is the kid from the coffee shop! Gerard realized.
“I changed my major to Theater,” Kevin was saying, twisting a dishcloth in his hands. “Oh my God, I am like, so much happier now.”
“That’s great,” Frank said with a slow smile, and then when Kevin looked curiously at Gerard Frank said, “Oh, this is Gerard, by the way.”
Gerard waited for Frank to do what he’d done, use a word to say what Gerard was, but he didn’t, he just leaned in close and draped his arm around Gerard’s shoulders and said, “What can Kevin get for you, baby?” in his bedroom voice, then kissed the corner of Gerard’s mouth.
Gerard’s voice disappeared and he knew his face was flushed, but he couldn’t help it. It was so stupid, he told himself furiously, after everything he’d seen and done and been through, after everything they’d been through together, to stammer and blush like an idiot whenever Frank fluttered his fucking eyelashes.
He managed to get his order out, and then pretended to be very busy studying a menu while Frank and Kevin talked about people Gerard had never met and clubs he’d never been to and things he’d never done, and never would, and neither would Frank, now, probably, because Frank gave up a lot to be with Gerard, even though he never complained or even acted like he knew it.
After five million years their drinks were ready, and Gerard kept his face buried in his cup the whole way out to the car. They sat inside it sipping for a while, then Frank put his cup in the holder and started up the engine. Gerard sat and drank his coffee and watched the city go by, wondering if Frank had ever been in this store or that bar or eaten in the terrifying restaurant on the corner called Mr. Clam! Sometimes he felt like Frank knew everything about him but he didn’t know anything about Frank from before they met, although he said that to Bob once and Bob said, “What’s to know? He was a little shit then and he’s a little shit now. Only difference is he’s hungover less often and he has you to drive his ass to the emergency room when he can’t breathe,” which was no help.
“It’s the exclamation point that makes it scary,” Frank said, dragging Gerard out of his own thoughts. “If it was just Mr. Clam it would be fine. Why is it Mr. Clam! though? What’s exclamation pointy about it?”
“Like Oklahoma!,” said Gerard.
Frank nodded and tapped the steering wheel. “Exactly. That is a scary-sounding musical.”
“You don’t like any musicals.”
“I like Rocky Horror,” said Frank.
What should I do, Gerard asked, but he already knew the answer, so he took a deep breath and a deep drink of coffee and said, “Do you ever miss your old life?”
Frank didn’t pretend not to know what Gerard meant. “No,” he said simply, putting on his right turn signal.
“Really,” said Gerard skeptically.
“Really,” said Frank, and then he cleared his throat. “Do you miss yours?”
“What?”
“Your old life,” Frank repeated. “Being a priest.”
Gerard thought about it. “When I had a parish and my own ministry?”
Frank bit his lip and nodded.
Gerard thought about it some more. He thought about it until Frank parked the car in their spot, and while they were unloading the bags, and all the way up to their apartment. He thought about it while Frank opened the door and they carried the groceries into the kitchen, and then he said, “I miss saying Mass.”
Frank looked up, and he was surprised, but he made a motion that Gerard should go on.
“I know you think it’s boring,” Gerard said, busying himself getting cans out and putting them in a cabinet with the labels facing front, the way Frank liked. “But leading people in worship is like nothing else. It’s really beautiful, to hear everyone singing, and the back-and-forth. I love the words.”
“I don’t think it’s boring,” Frank said quietly. When Gerard looked over, he was pouring pasta into the big jar.
Gerard went on, “The thing that I miss, probably, is being visible. Like today, Nicole recognized me, and I kind of miss that. With a collar, with a ministry, people knew that they could come to me and ask for help. I was part of the community. What we do is important, because we help people who don’t feel they can ask, I know that, but I guess I wish we were more visible, or – more accessible, or something.” Gerard finished piling oranges in the fruit bowl and looked over at Frank. “Does that make sense?”
Frank nodded, looking thoughtful. “You should bring it up at work. Maybe we can get out more, start volunteering places or something. It would mean less sitting around between cases.”
“That’s a good idea.” Gerard thought about it, then pulled his notebook out of his pocket and wrote it down so he wouldn’t forget. “Definitely. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” said Frank, making a pleased face. He heaved the bag of chilled food onto the counter. “Do you feel further away from God now?”
Gerard felt warm, as though someone was laughing. “No,” he said. “I feel closer than ever.”
Frank smiled, and opened the fridge door. “Good.”
Gerard leaned back against the counter to watch him. “But you didn’t answer my question. Do you miss your old life? Before you met me?”
“What’s to miss?” Frank said dismissively. “I got an apartment that doesn’t leak, a paycheck I don’t have to stretch ‘til it screams, and shitty health that’s covered by insurance.”
And a job that makes the world better than if I wasn’t doing it, he didn’t say, but Gerard could listen between the lines.
“And you don’t miss your freedom,” he pushed.
“What freedom?” Frank said, moving things around so he could stand the juice up properly. “What exactly do you think I had then that I don’t have now?”
“I don’t know,” Gerard hedged, but he did know, so he said, “I saw how Kevin was looking at you today. How they all look at you.” Frank made a pfft noise, but Gerard was undeterred. “You know you’re gorgeous. You could have anyone you want.”
“I do have anyone I want,” said Frank. He opened the carton of eggs and started sitting them one-by-one in their little holder in the door.
A lot of times Frank made Gerard feel like he’d been punched in the stomach, like he was going blind. Maybe that wasn’t how it felt to other people to be in love. Well, they weren’t other people.
Gerard went over and stood by the fridge with Frank. “Did I ever tell you that after I met you I stopped jerking off?”
Frank was holding the peas in his hand. The freezer was open. “Excuse me?” he said, in an odd, uneven voice.
“Well, see,” Gerard settled in to explain, “before, I didn’t really think about sex at all. I mean I did, but only in terms of like, marriage, or educating the kids, or whatever.”
“Uh huh,” said Frank. He sounded kind of dazed.
Gerard went on, “I didn’t read or watch things that were explicit, I totally channeled those energies into other things, into my work. When I jerked off it was more like habit than anything else. My mind was always empty. But then I met you.”
Condensation dripped off the bag of peas onto the floor. It landed on Frank’s toes, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“After I met you, I couldn’t do it without thinking about you,” Gerard confessed. “It was insane. I wanted you so bad... I don’t know, even just touching myself, it was – it was too much like sex.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Frank, and kissed him. It was hard and desperate right from the start, Frank was clinging to him and trying to shove him backwards towards the bedroom.
“The peas!” said Gerard, when he could get his mouth free.
“Fuck the peas,” Frank growled, but he did let go long enough to throw them in the freezer and slam the door shut.
Then he was back, and tumbling Gerard across the hall and down onto their bed. They were both naked before Gerard could blink; it was amazing how Frank could do that, how he could just make sex happen in like five seconds flat. When it was up to Gerard he had to think about every step.
They rolled over somehow and Gerard pressed Frank down into the pillows. Frank loved it like that, and Gerard loved to do it, loved to spread Frank out and kiss him everywhere, let his lips follow the ink that curled so lovingly over Frank’s skin, the story there. The birds on his belly, the faint round scars on his wrists. Gerard touched them all with his lips, but reserved his most tender kisses for the carefully-inscribed letters of his own name.
“Look at you,” he whispered, following the cut of Frank’s hip with the tip of his nose. “Look how He made you.”
He kissed his way up Frank’s body and took one of Frank’s nipples into his mouth. He loved how crazy Frank went when he did this, sucking and rubbing with his tongue until Frank was writhing and begging for Gerard to stop and keep going at the same time. Frank was so hard, pushing up against him. Gerard pretended he hadn’t noticed and wriggled back down to shoulder Frank’s legs apart.
“Gerard,” Frank panted, while Gerard was busy sucking a bruise into the pale, unmarked skin of Frank’s inner thigh. “Gerard.”
“What,” Gerard said impatiently, pressing his thumbs into the backs of Frank’s knees.
Frank went, “Nnrgh,” but then wriggled away and pulled Gerard up so they were facing each other. “What you said before. Seriously, you just gave up orgasms for a year, or what?”
“Well,” said Gerard, and bit his lip when he couldn’t help smiling. He lowered his voice and admitted, “I slipped once or twice.”
Frank cursed and wriggled around to fish in the drawer. He pushed the lube into Gerard’s hands and lay back. “Keep talking.”
Gerard opened it and poured some over his fingers. He spread his other hand over the inside of Frank’s thigh, holding it down against the bed, holding Frank open. “I told myself I had to redirect that energy,” he said, stroking against Frank with his fingertips, teasing. “I did pretty good at first.”
He pushed in with one finger, and Frank made a low sound, almost hurt if you didn’t know it, but Gerard knew it like he knew his own name. It sent a shiver through him and he sighed. “I used to think about how you’d sound. I tried not to, of course, but I did. I didn’t even come close to getting it right, though.”
Frank’s eyelids fluttered closed for a second before he met Gerard’s eyes again, heated and steady. Gerard pushed in further with his fingers; Frank’s back arched and he moaned, his hand coming up to curl loosely around his own cock.
“Yeah,” Gerard sighed, stroking gently inside Frank. “Like that. Fuck, you’re so amazing. There was no way I could – when it got too much, you know, and I just couldn’t help it, I couldn’t take it anymore. I just had to be close to you sometimes, even if it was inside my head.”
“Fuck, Gerard,” Frank whined, lifting the leg Gerard wasn’t holding, pulling it up and tilting his hips.
Gerard could slide his fingers deep inside Frank now, pressing and stretching and Frank closed his eyes again, his head falling back. His hand moved slowly on his cock; his skin was flushed and glowing. Gerard slid his fingers back, poured more lube over his hand, then pushed back in with three this time. “I realized, the first time we made love, that I was totally wrong. I mean, I knew you’d be…” he trailed off, watching Frank’s hips rock slowly down onto his hand.
“What?” said Frank, cracking one eye open. “You knew I’d be what?”
“Skilled,” said Gerard, ducking his head when Frank laughed. He watched his fingers moving, pressing in slow and careful, but not gentle. “Passionate. I knew you’d throw yourself into it like you do everything else. I guess I didn’t realize you’d be so…that you’d be like this.”
His words failed him for a minute, and he shook his head, concentrating on what he was doing, on the sprawl of Frank’s body, spread legs bracketing Gerard. Frank made a soft noise, encouraging; when Gerard looked up his eyes were open and he was watching Gerard, waiting. Gerard let go of Frank’s thigh so he could fold down and get his elbow on the bed, hold himself up over Frank.
“I didn’t know you’d be so tender,” he said, and kissed Frank softly. “So - that it would mean so much. How much you’d be able to use this to show me about how you feel. I guess I thought sex would just be about getting off more than anything else, but that’s so not it with you. I mean even when it’s – even when it’s rough, and fast, and you’ve got me face-down on the bed,” Gerard crooked his fingers and pressed up, hard, riding it out when Frank shouted and bucked, “even then I can feel that it’s – that you love me.”
“I do love you,” said Frank roughly. “I love you so much I don’t know what to fucking do with myself.”
“I know,” said Gerard, working his fingers inside Frank. “That’s what I’m saying, it’s - you’re so expressive.”
Frank swore under his breath and brought his legs up around Gerard’s hips, hooking his feet at Gerard’s back and yanking him forward. Gerard had to pull his fingers out of Frank quickly to catch himself before they crashed into each other, and Frank pulled harder with his legs, until they were pressed tight together, hot and slick. Frank grinned. “Can you guess what I’m expressing now?”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” said Gerard, moving against him. “You’re so subtle.”
“It’s my middle name,” said Frank. “Now fuck me already.”
Gerard laughed breathlessly and stretched over to reach the drawer.
“Wait,” said Frank, his eyes darting around a little. His hair was sticking up, and Gerard leaned back over him to kiss his forehead. Frank took a deep breath. “You know when we had our medicals for the health insurance, and they tested us for like, everything you can think of?”
“Yeah,” said Gerard. “Why?”
“I was thinking,” Frank said, stroking Gerard’s shoulder kind of distractedly. “Unless I’m pretty fucking sorely mistaken, neither of us has slept with anyone else since then, right?”
“Of course not,” said Gerard, appalled. “What the fuck, Frank?”
Frank kind of laughed. “Calm down, that’s not - what I’m saying is, I’m clean if you are.”
“I am,” said Gerard. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn’t tell yet what it was. He was trying to concentrate but it was hard when Frank was naked and ready for him. “So…”
Frank rolled his eyes. “So we don’t have to use condoms always. Do we?”
“Oh,” said Gerard. “Have you ever done that before?”
Frank shook his head. “You?”
“No. Come on, I had sex like eight times before I met you,” Gerard said, and laughed when Frank did. “Are you sure?”
Frank nodded. “I trust you. You trust me?”
“With my life.”
“So. We can,” said Frank, and pulled Gerard down to kiss him.
He was surprised by how much he wanted it, how badly he needed to give Frank a first of some kind. Although really everything with Frank was a first, because Gerard had never been in love, never made love to anyone, not until he found Frank. He felt like Frank had already done everything, though, and to make him feel something completely new – Gerard’s whole body ached with wanting it, all his primal possessive urges battling for control. It was weird. But he didn’t hate it.
They kissed and rubbed against each other a while longer, then Frank picked up the lube.
Gerard watched him flip it open. “Do I need to do anything different?”
“I don’t think so,” said Frank. He slicked his hand and reached down between them to wrap it around Gerard’s cock, but he let go after a distressingly short period of time and took Gerard’s hand, instead. He slid their palms together, getting Gerard’s fingers all slippery, then brought both of their hands back to Gerard’s cock. “Little more of this than usual, I guess.”
Gerard bit his lip and watched their hands moving on his cock – he could feel their fingers sliding over each other, the rough swipe of Frank’s thumb over the head. Frank let go again after a second and Gerard paused, unsure, but Frank just picked up the lube and put even more on Gerard, getting things really wet and messy, before he lay back on the pillows.
“Let me watch you,” he said, resting his hands on Gerard’s knees. “Just for a minute.”
Gerard felt his stupid face flame, and he couldn’t even feel his hand moving at first, he was in a weird bubble of embarrassment. They hadn’t done this before, not like this, not this way around, not with Gerard up on his knees and so exposed and – but Frank had asked him for it, and Frank wouldn’t ask him for something that would hurt to give. He took a deep breath and stroked himself properly, letting his eyes wander over Frank’s body. I don’t have to imagine him now, he thought, and for some reason that sent a shock through him and he moaned out loud, moving his hand faster on his cock.
Frank let out a slow, shaky breath, and nodded when Gerard met his eyes, encouraging. Gerard held his gaze for as long as he could, twisting and squeezing his hand around himself, but then he had to shift and settle further back on his heels and tip his head back, and he could feel Frank’s eyes so heavy on his skin.
“Enough,” Frank said, stilling Gerard’s hand with his own. Gerard whined, and Frank’s voice was wrecked when he said, “Gee, please.”
Gerard started to shuffle forwards between Frank’s legs, but then Frank sat up and said, “I want to turn over.”
“Okay,” said Gerard. Frank didn’t usually like to have his back to Gerard during sex, but he scrambled up eagerly onto his knees and turned around, folding his arms along the top of the headboard.
He looked over his shoulder, and there was the slightest edge of anxiety to it. “Is this okay for you?”
“Yes,” Gerard said, and he moved in close so he could press himself against Frank’s back and kiss him, kiss his shoulders and his neck and his tattoos and all of his skin, every inch of it. Frank pushed back, impatient. Gerard moved back enough to slick his fingers one more time and push them inside Frank, ignoring Frank’s protestations that he was ready, Gerard, come the fuck on.
When he was satisfied, he moved up behind Frank and reached down to line himself up. He had to take a few deep breaths then, because it seemed such a big deal, all of a sudden, what they were about to do, what it meant, and it had Gerard close to the edge already. He bit down on his tongue and counted to ten – well, seven, because Frank started bitching again – and then put his other hand on Frank’s hip to steady himself as he started to push in.
It was – it was always amazing, this feeling of Frank’s body giving around him. Gerard loved the noises Frank made, his heavy breath, the little catch underneath it, overwhelmed. It was more this way, the drag of his cock inside Frank more pronounced, hotter, slicker, impossibly tight.
“What’s it like?” Frank wanted to know, his voice strained as Gerard rocked further into him. “Is it different?”
“Yeah,” Gerard managed to say. It wasn’t that different, physically, but he was inside Frank and there was nothing between them, nothing – he was literally closer to Frank than he had ever been to anyone else. He tried to explain that, but half of it came out in gasps and moans. Frank didn’t seem to mind, he just rocked back into Gerard’s thrusts and made happy, dirty noises.
Gerard wrapped his hands over the small of Frank’s back, his thumbs meeting in the center as he moved in and out. Frank’s hand was moving on his own cock, the other holding tight to the headboard, and when Gerard snapped in quickly he shouted and tipped his head back, bending into an arch under Gerard’s hands. Gerard fucked him harder, until the bed was moving with them, springs squeaking in protest and the lamp wobbling on the nightstand, and Frank was making so much noise and he felt so fucking good, it was insane.
“Frankie,” Gerard gasped out between thrusts, “Frankie you have to feel this, seriously, we’re so close, we gotta do this the other way around.”
“Fucking count on it,” said Frank, all rough and ragged around the edges, shoving back to meet him as much as Gerard’s grip on his hips would allow.
Maybe it was his voice, maybe it was the way he moved, but Gerard was not in control of his body any more, all of a sudden, he couldn’t slow down or stop, just had to wrap himself around Frank and hold on. It was too soon, he hadn’t done anything to bring Frank with him, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m gonna come.”
“It’s okay, baby, do it, let me feel you,” Frank said, and Gerard shoved him up against the headboard and closed his eyes and slammed into him and came.
He was shaky and wrung out after, and he had to ease out sooner than usual, wincing at the pressure on his over-sensitive skin. Frank was tense, wound tight underneath him, and Gerard got him turned over onto his back and slid down to take Frank’s cock into his mouth, pushing his legs apart so he could shove his fingers back inside him at the same time.
“Jesus fuck,” Frank spat, his hands like iron bands on Gerard’s head. Gerard hummed around him and swallowed; he rubbed his tongue against Frank’s cock and worked his fingers inside him, so easy and wet, wet with Gerard’s own come, and if it had been at all possible Gerard would have gotten hard enough to fuck him again, just from feeling that.
Frank writhed around and his hips bucked and his thighs shook, and he started babbling something that made no sense. Gerard sucked him harder, encouraging, and Frank rocked desperately between his mouth and his fingers and cried out hoarsely when he shuddered and came.
Gerard brought him down from it as easy as he could, gentle strokes of his tongue, easy pressure of his fingers inside. He pulled out and off when Frank started to hiss, and collapsed there between Frank’s legs, tracing sticky patterns on the inside of Frank’s hip.
“I fucking love you,” he slurred, trying to blink hair out of his eyes. “Frank. So fucking much.”
Frank didn’t say anything, just petted clumsily at Gerard’s head.
It didn’t take long for Gerard’s post-orgasm blissful lassitude to give way to feeling like post-orgasm blissful lassitude could only really be achieved if he had a cigarette. He heaved himself up and stumbled to the bathroom, then came back and sat on the edge of the bed so he could light two cigarettes, inhaling deep to feel that good burn in his lungs.
“Oh my God,” Frank said faintly. He took the cigarette Gerard passed him, but just lay there with his arm hanging off the bed, like he didn’t have the strength to lift it to his mouth. “That was awesome.”
“It really was,” Gerard agreed.
“I mean even by our standards,” said Frank. His eyes were closed. “That was up there with like…Christmas.”
“And Easter,” Gerard added.
“I hope you know how weird it is that Jesus gets you hot,” said Frank. He took a deep drag on his cigarette. “Your birthday.”
“Your birthday,” said Gerard. Costumes were awesome.
Frank exhaled smoke, smiling to himself. “Last Tuesday.”
“Oh yeah,” said Gerard, remembering.
“Messier this way,” Frank said then, like he’d reached a verdict in his own mind. He made a face and wiggled around a little. “We need to have some kind of sheet protection system in place next time, maybe.”
Gerard waved his hand, lying back down next to Frank. “Let’s just fuck on the floor.”
Frank cracked up, shaking his head.
They lay there smoking in silence for a while. Eventually they were both down to the filters and Gerard had no choice but to acquiesce to Frank’s demands that they get up and shower and change the sheets and other things that kept Gerard from doing what he wanted to do, which was lie the fuck back down and cuddle.
When Frank was satisfied, finally, they got back into bed and Gerard pulled Frank close, feeling weirdly far away from him. It was the contrast, he supposed. Whenever they did something new in bed it left him feeling emotional, cracked open and vulnerable. Frank had gone quiet, and with him so close Gerard could feel that he was holding himself tense.
“Frankie?” he said, nuzzling the side of his face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No,” Frank said immediately. He shook his head and leaned up to give Gerard a kiss. “Not at all.”
“Okay,” said Gerard. Frank settled back down in his arms. Gerard watched him, worry settling in his stomach like a cold stone. “What’s wrong?”
“Sometimes I’m afraid that you’ll go back,” Frank blurted out. His eyes were fixed on the other side of the room, and Gerard could tell it was costing him to say this. “Back to the priesthood. I saw the way you were all lit up from the inside with Nicole.”
“I was happy to see her,” Gerard chided him. “That doesn’t mean I want to go back. I love you, you know that. I can’t – we’re not built to live without each other, you and me.”
“I know,” Frank said, but he curled tighter into Gerard and hid his face in his throat. “I don’t know, maybe that’s why I don’t want the books in the house. You’re so obsessed with work sometimes.”
Gerard sighed, and pressed his face into Frank’s hair. He could feel Frank’s fingers worrying at the cross around his neck. “I’m so happy with you,” Gerard told him. “With our life. We’re so lucky, Frank, He’s given us so much. I’m just trying – I need to serve Him. I need to deserve it.”
“You do deserve it,” Frank said fiercely. “For Christ’s sake, Gerard, you work harder than - it’s fucking impossible for me to get you to come home, some nights. You always want to stay there with your books, and then you sneak into the living room while I’m asleep and keep on fucking reading.”
“Well,” Gerard said gently, “if you would let me bring them home and read them in front of you, then I wouldn’t have to.”
Frank didn’t say anything. His fingers tightened at Gerard’s throat.
“Sometimes-” Gerard’s voice failed him for a minute, and he had to clear his throat. “Sometimes I’m scared that you won’t ever accept that part of me, and it’ll come between us.”
Frank was quiet for a long time, thinking about that. Gerard stroked his back and waited for him.
“You would think,” Frank said eventually, “that if we’re all doing God’s work and shit, he would make this kind of crap a little easier.”
“Sometimes God’s love can feel like a burden,” Gerard agreed, touching the marks on Frank’s shoulders. “We all bear it differently.” He kissed Frank’s temple. “Is there a reason why you’re all tied up in knots today?”
Frank did that thing where he was thinking about lying, where he went all tense and still for a minute, then sighed and relaxed. “Just the stupid fucking dreams,” he said, worrying at the cross some more. Gerard could see Frank’s rosary lying on the nightstand, but he didn’t want to disturb Frank by leaning over to get it for him. Frank said, “I try to shake ‘em off, you know, but sometimes they just stay with me a while. Guess last night’s must have been a real motherfucker.”
“Guess so.”
“I just – don’t get upset, okay, I don’t want to fight about it, but I really wish so many of them weren’t about you.”
“You and me both,” said Gerard with great feeling. He hated that Frank had bad dreams about him. He hated it. I hate it.
“Anyway, I’m not the only one,” Frank said then. He shifted back and fixed Gerard with a look. “I’m not going to run off with someone else. I mean, ever.” He pointed to the tattoo Gerard had kissed so lovingly earlier. “You don’t have to get all hermit crab every time I talk to a cute guy.”
“I don’t!” Gerard said defensively, but Frank just raised an unconvinced eyebrow. Gerard laid his head down on Frank chest and traced the letters of his name with his fingertips this time. “Maybe sometimes I just worry about what’s going to happen when you realize what a giant boring pain in the ass I am.”
“I realized that a long time ago,” Frank said heavily. Gerard poked him and he laughed. “But seriously, Gee, if there’s one thing I could change - I hate waking up to find you’re not there, especially after the dreams.”
A hot flash of guilt raced over Gerard’s skin, and he shifted, uncomfortable. “I know.”
“I know you can’t sleep,” Frank said. He touched the inside of Gerard’s elbow, so softly Gerard could barely feel it. “I don’t really get why you won’t talk to me about it.”
“I don’t really have anything to say,” Gerard told him honestly. “We get into bed, you fall asleep, I don’t. It seems unfair to complain about that when you’re fighting off fuck knows what in your dreams every night.”
Frank frowned, concerned. “Do you feel guilty about something?”
“Frank, I’m an ex- priest,” Gerard said, rubbing his forehead. “I feel guilty about everything.”
“So that’s not what keeps you awake?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I feel I’m wasting time I could spend working. Maybe I just drink too much fucking coffee. Maybe I feel like if I fall asleep and you have a bad dream, I won’t be there to wake you up from it.”
Frank made the pained face he made when he was trying to understand but thought Gerard was being totally inexplicable. “But you leave me alone in here.”
Gerard ground the heel of his hand into his eye. “Because you get mad when you catch me reading!”
“I get mad because you leave me alone.” Frank made a fist and waved it around in the air, agitated. “Look. Fine. Read in the fucking bed, all right? I accept you and shit. Jesus.”
“But the light might disturb you,” Gerard worried aloud. Frank needed his sleep. His health was fragile enough.
“You won’t disturb me,” Frank said, exasperated. “I sleep like a dead rock in a coma, even when I’m dreaming about dying a horrible bloody death. They should bottle me and sell me to people like you.”
Gerard laughed despite himself. He pressed his hand down flat on Frank’s skin. Give me courage. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m going to stay from now on.”
“You will,” said Frank firmly, “if I’m going to let you bring work home, then you fucking will.”
“Okay,” said Gerard. Help me keep this promise.
“And I want a dog,” Frank added suddenly. When Gerard raised his head to look at him in surprise, Frank was actually blushing a little. But he lifted his chin and met Gerard’s gaze. “What, maybe I lied when I said there’s nothing I miss. I miss my dog.”
“But I don’t think we can ask for her back now,” Gerard said, thinking sadly of Ella and the picture of her Frank thought Gerard didn’t know was hidden in his nightstand.
Frank stared at him. “A different dog, Gerard, for – Jesus, you are one stupid incredibly smart person, you know that?”
“Shut up,” said Gerard, but he couldn’t help laughing at himself. “We should get a dog,” he decided then. “I want a dog too. Why don’t we already have one?”
“We’re at work a lot,” Frank shrugged. “You can’t leave a dog for hours and hours. You think Brian would let us bring a dog to work?”
Gerard rubbed his nose and thought about it. “I don’t think it’s up to Brian,” he said after a minute. “If it’s up to anyone, it’s up to Craig.”
“Craig would let us run a crack den out of the back room if we told him it was for the greater good,” Frank said affectionately.
“I think a dog at work could be really great, actually,” Gerard said, warming to the idea. “Animals put kids at ease, and they’re always the biggest flight risk.”
“Maybe we could even train it to help,” Frank said eagerly. “Like to find shit. And it could sense when people are secretly jerks.”
“Maybe,” Gerard said. “Mikey would love it. And I know Bob’s been talking about getting a dog too.”
“Yes,” said Frank, and did a fistpump. “Perfect. We’ll tell Brian it was Bob’s idea. Better yet we won’t tell him at all. Me and Mikey and Bob will just show up with dogs and Brian won’t be able to tell Bob no.”
“That seems unnecessarily deceitful,” Gerard said disapprovingly. Frank ignored him and started talking about dog Halloween costumes.
After dinner that night, Frank went out to try and find Gerard’s cereal at the place on the corner. Gerard made coffee, and a phone call to his parents, and then one to Mikey and Ray. Then he poured himself another cup of coffee and stood in the kitchen blowing on the surface until it was cool enough to drink.
“Thank You for bringing Nicole to me today,” he said. “It was really wonderful to see her, I can’t wait for her to visit so we can talk properly. Thank You for keeping watch over her when I couldn’t, and for making her so strong, and giving her such a caring heart. I felt Your love shining out of her.”
He sipped his coffee, then made a face when it burned his tongue. “Ow, motherfucker. Oh, I also wanted to say thank You for Frank. Again. I don’t think patience is one of the gifts You’ve seen fit to bless him with, and he tries really hard anyway. With me. I need to ask You to help me make him understand that when I need to do Your work, it’s not because I don’t want to spend time with him. It’s because I do, You know? I wouldn’t have him at all if it weren’t for You. This isn’t a repayment thing, I know You don’t work like that, but I look at him and I see Your work, all Your blessings, I see Your very best gift to me. Every time I see his face, I see Yours. I think it doesn’t come across to him like that, so please help me to show it better, and help him to understand.
“Please take care of the people we’ve been able to help through Your grace so far, and lead us to the others who still need us. Oh, and another thing. I totally snapped at Ray at work yesterday and I feel like an asshole. It was my fault, I was being a cranky jerk, and he accepted my apology – because he’s Ray, and you know how he is – so in future please give me the patience to listen to his questions and answer them truthfully, even if I have heard them fifteen times already. And please take care of Bob when he’s driving tomorrow, because his car’s been making a weird noise lately so please grant him the wisdom to get off the fucking road if it starts up again. Oh, and thank You for giving Brian patience and mercy when Mikey spilled coffee over his laptop yesterday. Please watch over my Dad while he’s repairing the roof this week, and help my Mom not to worry too much while he’s up there.”
“And, uh, one more thing.” Gerard took another quick gulp of coffee. “If You could see Your way to easing Frank’s dreams, that would be awesome. I know You don’t take requests, and if You’re sending them to him for a reason, then please grant me the wisdom and clarity to understand. If he’s just fucked up though, and there’s anything You can do, I’d appreciate it.”
He heard Frank’s key in the lock then, and set his coffee down on the counter. “Thank you for listening, Father,” he said. “Amen. Say hi to Grandma for me.”
“I got your cereal!” called Frank, bearing it proudly into the kitchen. “I had to kill a man to get the last box.”
Gerard rewarded him for the lie with a kiss. “And what’s this?” he said, touching Frank’s other hand.
“This,” said Frank, “is couples counseling.” Out of the top he pulled two dog bowls. They had a pattern of pink skulls around the rim. “How fucking adorable are these, seriously.”
“Pretty fucking adorable,” said Gerard. Frank went and put them down on the floor in the corner of the kitchen. He looked at them happily, then brought the bag back to Gerard.
“And this is for you,” he said, and put a little square silver thing in Gerard’s hands. It had a clip on the back. “It’s a book-light,” he explained, showing Gerard how it opened and turned on. “So you don’t have to work yourself up into a guilt frenzy over using the fucking lamp.”
“Frank!” said Gerard. He turned the book-light over in his hands, beaming at it.
Frank grinned, and put the bag on the table. “And in here are a shitload of books. Specifically the ones I found on your desk at work.”
“You are the best thing in the whole world,” said Gerard, and kissed him.
“Mmm,” said Frank, winding his arms around Gerard’s neck. After a minute he broke off and put his mouth next to Gerard’s ear to whisper, “I could feel you every step.”
Gerard shivered happily, and pressed his face into Frank’s throat.
That night, while Frank slept at his side, Gerard clipped the little book-light onto the Bullinger Companion and settled in to read. It was so much better, worlds better, to pass the sleepless hours here, warm in bed with Frank, instead of out in the living room with only insomnia and guilt and cold toes for company.
Although, he didn’t actually feel as sleepless as usual. His eyes were already getting heavy when Frank started to stir. Gerard put the book down instantly and leaned over him, waiting, and the minute Frank made a quiet, blurry, frightened noise, Gerard curled an arm firmly around him and shook him awake.
“It’s a dream,” he said, as soothingly as he could. “Just a dream, sweetheart, wake up. Come to me, that’s it.”
“Mnnn,” said Frank, and he jerked a little, then turned almost instantly and buried his face in Gerard’s side.
“It’s okay,” Gerard promised, wrapping the other arm around him too. “It’s all right, you’re all right. I’m right here.”
Frank made another wordless sound, then sank right back into sleep again, safe in Gerard’s arms. Gerard looked down at him, thrilled beyond words. It was the first time Frank had fought free of a nightmare without fully waking, the least distressed he’d ever been. He almost wanted to wake Frank up so they could talk about it, but that would probably defeat the purpose. He looked at his book, but watching Frank was causing sleep to crowd in around his own ears, so he clicked the light off and snuggled down under the covers instead.
He gave thanks to God, and kissed Frank goodnight.
In the morning, when Gerard told him what had happened, Frank was pleased, but he looked skeptical.
“You can scoff,” Gerard said, looking in the mirror to straighten his tie. “But it wasn’t just you. I slept better than I have in years.”
“That’s because you were in the damn bed with me instead of sitting up in the living room ‘til ass o’ clock,” Frank said, doing up the clasp on his watch. He picked the rosary up off the nightstand and put it around his neck. “That’s why you slept good, and that’s why I didn’t get sucked in by the dreams.”
“Because God answered my prayers,” Gerard insisted.
“Because I let you bring the fucking book to bed and you stayed there for once,” Frank corrected him.
“Idiot,” Gerard said fondly. “Same thing.”