One-Shot series

I dig my fingernails into his hips, anchoring myself in preparation for what's soon to happen. He moans my name from underneath me, barely able to make it coherent. It takes him a
few tries to stutter "G-Gerard!"
I laugh to myself in spite of the situation. I love it when Frank squirms. It gets me off like you wouldn't believe. So, in order to make him squirm even more, I shift my hips to the side
slightly and put all my energy into moving my dick. "Like that?" I purr. I'm able to keep somewhat collected when I fuck; I like to think of it like a special talent.
All I get in response is a choked little pant that makes its way past his lips. I know he tried to suppress it, but I suppose I'm just that good. Or, at least, it seems like I am. My feet
are starting to feel a little strange from standing in the same spot over Frank's bed for a solid three minutes, but I don't pay them much attention. What's going on above my feet is
just too fucking good for me to think about anything else. Frank begins to say something which I have to pay extra attention to. I can barely hold a train of thought right now, let
alone listen to him stutter some pointless, sex-morphed shit. "B-baby?" he finally whispers. I know he's referring to me.
"Yeah?" I ask, bucking my hips forward.
Frank gasps and doesn't say much else. I figure he's dropped it, seeing as how he's resorted to making monosyllabic sounds. I'm flattered; I didn't think I was that great. I close my
eyes, revelling in the sounds escaping from Frank's lips and the sensation I'm causing the both of us. I feel a sudden pull on my left wrist and I snap my eyes open. It's Frank's hand,
and he's dragging my own fingers to the back of his head. He guides my hand to his hair and returns his to grip the edges of the bed. I don't move at first, trying to figure out what he
wants me to do. But then he raises his hips slightly, causing me a shock, so I close my fist around his hair and pull. It's nothing to hurt him, of course, simply a reaction. I'm about to
uncurl my fingers when Frank lets out an almighty moan.
"You," I say quickly, knowing that if I took extra time to say anything, I'd end up sounding just like Frank, "want this?" I pull his hair again.
"Yeah," he groans. I feel a smirk make its way onto the left side of my face. That skank.
I use his hair for leverage now, continuing to move my hips back and forth, only this time I lean back a little and yank his now sweaty hair with every movement. He's moaning as loud
as I've ever heard, and I'm making those noises to some degree, myself. Then his sounds change slightly. He starts making the choked little whimper he'd made before, only faster.
More frequent. Hotter. "Gee, oh god, I'm gonna- fuck!"
I know what he means. He's trying to communicate that he's about to come. I'd fucked him enough times to know that. "Go ahead," I purr. "They're your sheets this time."
Frank lets out a yell, muffled by his bed. Last time we'd had sex here, his neighbours had come to the door because he forgot to force his head down. I laugh to myself again, but I'm
cut off in the middle by this amazing clenching around my cock. I involuntarily tip over a little and I need to use Frank's back for stability so I don't have to pull out.
"Harder," he squeaks out, evidently about to shoot. I know he doesn't mean fuck him harder. I dig my nails into his back this time, really not caring if I cut him or any of that shit,
because a veritable explosion is about to come out of my dick. I use him for leverage and fill the rubber at about the same time he starts to shake. I pull out slowly so he doesn't
embarrass himself and I excuse myself to go take a shower.
I'm used to the booty-call routine by now. He phones me, I come over or he comes over, and we just fuck each other until we're too physically exhausted to do anything. Then one of
us goes back to their own house and the cycle begins again in a few days.
I sigh at the familiarity I have with Frank's shower. I hate knowing his house so well, because I shouldn't. I also hate knowing that if you lick his earlobe in this special way, it drives
him mad and all he wants to do is fuck. I mean, I feel like I'm betraying myself, because I keep saying that I'm not going to do this anymore, but it's not only that. I'm betraying
Frank's girlfriend. She doesn't know about his bisexuality or the fact that he likes to have sex with his best friend in his spare time. I feel so dirty. So, every time I shower to get the
sweat and come off me, I secretly hope the deceit and the shame will wash away, too.
I turn on the taps and make the water lukewarm. Hot showers piss me off, make my skin all red, and they waste water. I have a strange feeling I'm going to be having another one of
these pretty soon, too, so I'm extra careful not to waste any water. This is how it goes every single time. We have sex, I shower, I come back out, Frank wants more, so I give him
more. Then I have to shower again.
I soap up briefly, wincing as I wash my lower half. That hypersensitivity thing after sex pisses me right off. It's nice to feel somewhat clean after feeling so damned dirty, though.
After about ten minutes, I shut the water off and take Frank's towel from the bar he has mounted to the wall. I wrap it around my waist, just below my hips so I can show them off a
little. Frank's said he likes that, and I'm not a person to deny Frank of what he likes. I wouldn't be over here if I was.
I creep round to his room, intent on dropping the towel, strutting over to him where he'd be sitting on the bed and kissing him with all the force I've got left. I press my ear to the
closed door and listen to get an idea of what he's doing before I surprise him. I hear him making little coughing sounds… that's odd. At least, it sounds like coughing. I could be wrong,
seeing as how I'm outside the door and the noises are pretty quiet. I turn the doorknob slightly and let the door open a crack, prepared for anything. Only what I see takes me
completely off guard. Yeah, Frank's sitting there on the bed. But his back's to the door, and his right arm is furiously moving up and down in his lap. I'm not entirely positive that he's
doing what I think he's doing, because the way he's hunched over kind of makes it look like he's in pain. But then I hear him more clearly. "Ah!" he gasps and then it sounds like he's
moaning through closed lips. Oh, he's such a little pervert! I watch him jack off for a few more seconds until I feel myself about to lose complete control of my cock.
"Frank," I purr, sauntering into the room, "you should have just asked me to do that."
Frank gasps in surprise and falls farther forward. I laugh to myself and walk over to him, rubbing his back from behind. "It's nothing I haven't seen before," I point out.
"I know," he murmurs to the bed below him.
I grasp his arm and pry it off his dick. It almost pains me to do so; Frank's pleasure is like my own, in and of itself.
"Turn around," I whisper in his ear.
He scoots to face me on the edge of the bed and I press my lips to his. I feel him smile under my kiss as he leans down onto his back. I yank the towel off and revel in the feeling of
his soft skin everywhere. So much for trying to control myself. I'm solid after seconds of this and I grind my hips against Frank's, eager to come again. I'm far from being finished with
him.
"Gerard, I-" he moans, seemingly unable to continue. I see him get his bearings again and shut his eyes. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that!" he manages.
I stop working my hips. Not this touchy-feely shit. "Ah, it's fine, Frankie. Don't worry about it."
Frank nods, presses his lips together in a tight line and says, "Mm."
I kiss the tight line. "You should've let me handle that, though," I murmured, right close to his ear.
With that, I move my head downwards, kissing his chest for the sake of intimacy. I, personally, don't like it much, but I know Frank's one for that sort of thing. It's also hot seeing him
squirm under my touch, knowing there's nothing he can do about it. I'm a little bit of a sadist, I'll admit it. But Frank's a masochist, then, because he's moving subtly from the left to
the right as I drag my tongue around his hipbones. Not to mention the whole 'oh-Gerard-pull-my-hair-and-dig-your-nails-into-my-back' thing.
"How close were you before I so," I said into his hips, too reluctant to take my mouth off, "rudely interrupted?"
"'Bout halfway," he shamelessly admits. I think by now he's used to my brash questioning.
I lick my way down his length, and he lets out a surprised "Oh!"
"Stuff's on your dresser. It's your turn," I say, almost like a command.
Frank gets off the bed without so much as a word and I watch him roll a rubber on from the box he has. Every step he takes towards me makes me more and more anxious. I want him
so bad right now it's got to be some kind of illegal.
"You ready?" he whispers to me. I stick my face into the bed and nod.
I feel a pain where Frank went in, but all in all, I'm used to it. So I don't mind it as much as some little virgin boy would. I'm not so into the pain scene as Frank, but I definitely don't
object to it when it's there. I just never ask for it.
His hips slam into me and I moan in sync with him. I forget my internal worries for the moment and just focus on moving my body so that it feels better for the both of us. Frank's
fingers grip my shoulders and I don't care one bit. I close my eyes and think about what would make him scream. So far, I'm drawing blanks. But the blanks don't seem significant
when you have another guy fucking you so hard that your entire body is moving and the bed is shaking. The flutter in the very pit of my stomach comes on more quickly this time
because I just came about twenty minutes ago. I'm glad for that; less work for Frankie.
"I don't," I gasp, "want to," another gasp, "make a mess." I wince at how much like Frank I sound.
"Don't worry about it," he says nonchalantly. "I'm used to it."
Even with the reassurance, I try to hold back as long as I can. It's not easy, and every little thing makes me want to just burst. I have to focus on curling and uncurling my toes to
keep from the inevitable explosion. "You close?" I choke out.
"So close," he moans.
I can't control myself after that. I let out what's been piling up for the last thirty seconds and I don't think I've ever felt so good. Frank's shaking on top of me as I finish, too, so that
definitely adds to it. I bite the comforter and let out a scream. Frank echoes me and I reach back to slap his leg or hip or whatever it is I make contact with.
He rolls off of me and I feel a buzz all over. That's how you know it was really good. You feel like you're on fire. Well… not fire. But some sort of warm thing that has this overwhelming
calming effect on you. I don't want to get up. I just want to lay there with Frank and never move ever again. Unless it's to fuck. I could probably manage that.
"Was that," Frank asks, breathless, "really good for you, too?"
"The best," I reply. "Thanks," I also add in.
"Anytime. I was there, too, you know."
I smile to myself and let my eyes fall closed. I want to sleep. Just sleep all day and not wake up to the complications of life itself. I feel a blanket cover me up and I smile even more
widely. "You're the greatest, you know that?" I ask Frank.
"Now I do. You can get some rest, you know. I'll wake you up when you need to put some clothes on."
I don't say anything more, I just nod in silent appreciation. Frank's hand creeps its way to my ribcage and finds a resting place there. I don't mind it one bit. It's kind of nice having
someone hold you when you sleep, even if that someone is your best friend whom you've sodomized more than once in the past week or so.

Notes