Frank is woken up by a loud banging, making him bolt straight up with fright. A slight pattering sounds from outside the window, signalizing that the torrent has yet to end, and yet, Frank feels as if the thunder isn't what woke him up.

The sounds comes again, and, this time, Frank can figure out that it came from the door of the room. He sniffs and rolls out of bed, pulling his pajama pants back up his hips as he makes his way to the door. He unlocks it and opens the door, wincing at the bright hallway light and finds—

Nothing. No one is there. Frank peeks down the hall, just in case, but the hallway is empty. Or so he thinks, until he sees a figure move at the end of the hallway, in front of the window, seemingly shifting their weight.

Frank quickly grabs a key card and makes his way to the window as well, quietly saying: "Hey." Gerard turns around and smiles slightly when he sees Frank.

"Still raining," Frank notes, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Yep," Gerard nods. "Wanna grab something to eat?"

"It's almost midnight, Gerard."

"When has that ever stopped us? Anyway, there's a Hard Rock somewhere down there."

"Let me put on some pants," Frank sighs, looking down and seeing Gerard already fully dressed. Frank decides to keep his comments about the striped poncho and strange animal hat to himself because, hey, to each man his own, right?

Quickly, Frank goes back to his room and pulls on the same outfit he wore during the day— his usual black jeans, red hoodie, leather jacket, scuffed-to-hell Converse. He tries not to think about how nicely Gerard's jeans fit him as he reapproaches him, still at the end of the hallway, still watching the darkened street below. The hotel overlooks Centennial Olympic Park and the Olympic Rings are lit up rainbow colors, the fountain water showing the same colors.

"Shall we?" Gerard asks, smiling softly.

"Sure," Frank replies and follows Gerard to the elevator. It takes a few seconds after hitting the button for an elevator to show up, and the two men step in, Frank messing with the metal zip on his hoodie as Gerard hits the lobby button.

The elevator is slow. Frank sighs, blowing hair out of his eyes, and looks over at Gerard, trying to gauge what he's feeling. Fear? Nervousness? Excitement? As he's about to ask, Gerard chuckles: "This elevator is so damn slow."

Frank takes a quick breath and laughs quietly. "Yeah," he agrees. Then, realizing he won't get the opportunity again, quickly asks: "What're you thinking?"

"'Bout those damn French fries at Hard Rock," Gerard mumbles absently, watching the floor. Then, he looks up at Frank and asks: "Oh, wait. Did you mean about us?"

Frank shrugs. "Sorta."

"Oh, that's easy," Gerard admits. "I want to kiss you. But I can't because the only kisses worth having require tongue, and I've already broken my 'no anything entering anything' rule today."

"It's already broken," Frank tries to reason as the bell dings and the doors open for the lobby. "So break it even more."

"What if I don't want to destroy it completely?" Gerard counters, following Frank as the two enter into the lobby. "Rules are made for a reason: to—"

"Be broken," Frank interjects, flashing a devilish smirk Gerard's way.

"Stop with your little punk shit for a few seconds and hear me out," Gerard requests as they leave the building. "There're cameras and paparazzi all crawling around here. We can't risk it; not right now, at least."

Frank makes a sound of understanding and looks down at his shoes as the two walk down the sidewalk. It's only when they make it in front of the Georgia Aquarium does Frank ask: "Where the hell are we going?"

"Hard Rock," Gerard answers. "It's just a straight shot down Andrew Young. It's a bit of walking, but it's here."

"How do you know—"

"Google Maps."

"Are they—"

"Open? Website said they've got performers tonight, so the place'll be open for a little bit."

"Oh," Frank says and pulls the hood of his jacket up over his hair as the rain starts to get a bit heavier.

After at least ten minutes of walking, the glowing orange-neon-lined, super-sized Les Paul sign comes into view and Frank slowly snakes his hand out of his pocket and holds out his pinkie, letting it brush against Gerard's thigh. If Gerard remembers correctly, this gesture means that Frank is nervous about something.

"Don't be nervous, Frankie," Gerard whispers over the slight rainfall and quickly connects their pinkies. "You'll be fine."

"Not to sound uppity," Frank starts. "But.. Won't people recognize us if we go in the freaking Hard Rock Cafe?"

"Huh?"

"We are rock stars, Gerard. We are famous. And, if we were to be recognized anywhere in Atlanta, it's here," Frank responds. Gerard says nothing, which prompts Frank to ask: "Aren't you nervous? Scared? Something?"

"Horrified," Gerard says, fooling with the hem of his poncho with his free hand. "But I live for this."

Framk sighs and pulls his hand away, pushing it deep in the pocket of his jacket. "Alright," he agrees finally. "Lead the way."

The promise of the French fries at this restaurant is enough to get Frank into the building, which is substantially warmer and drier than outside. The girl working the floor leads the two to a table, either not recognizing them or succeeding in hiding it, the bass guitar of the music spilling through the speakers and filling the room. It's actually pretty crowded for almost midnight, Frank realizes.

"Who's performing tonight?" Frank asks after they receive their drinks (lemonade for him, Coca-Cola for Gerard), lazily focusing on one of the television screens in the room, playing Green Day's Warning music video.

Gerard lets out a small laugh and gently takes Frank's hand in his. "No one," he says. "It was just to get you out."

"Motherfucker," Frank snarls, then giving Gerard a smile to show that he isn't angry. He isn't; but he would have preferred to stay in bed. "So, why're there so many people here?"

"Are you kidding? It's the Hard Rock Cafe! Of course there are people here!" Gerard exclaims, squeezing Frank's hand. Then, he looks around the room— filled with people definitely not in My Chemical Romance's target demographic— and whispers: "Probably think we're gay."

"We kinda are, idiot," Frank laughs and leans across the table, giving Gerard a quick peck on the tip of his pert nose. "Your nose is cold," Frank observes.

"Just like my heart."

Frank wets his lips, holding in a laugh, and mumbles: "Don't be a dick."

---

"Gonna have myself a good-ass shower. Go to sleep," Frank fantasizes, leaning his head on Gerard's shoulder as the two make their way back down Andrew Young Boulevard to their hotel. "Get ready for tomorrow night."

"Don't wanna spend any more time with me?" Gerard asks, faking a sob. "I see how it is. Love you too, Frankie."

"I am cold, all I want right now is a hot shower and a warm bed," Frank defends himself, his face filling with heat.

"What about a warm body to sleep with?" Gerard asks. He squints in the rain and adds: "Let me rephrase that. How about a warm body to fall asleep next to?"

"Thanks for the offer, man, but if we fell asleep in the same bed, it would end with a morning wood problem," Frank says and laughs. "And you've said 'nothing goes inside anything'."

"I'm revising that rule," Gerard states, gripping Frank's arm tightly. "It only applies below the belt now."

"Does it now?" Frank asks. He stops moving, jerking Gerard to a standstill, and rising up on the balls of his feet, lightly pressing his lips to Gerard's. "I like this new rule."

"I figured you would," Gerard says quietly and lets his hands linger on Frank's lower back, pressing his fingers into the base of his spine. He tilts his head and moves his lips against Frank's, lightly sucking on his bottom lip. "Would it be overstepping boundaries," he starts, pulling away to let Frank gently kiss his jaw, "If I asked if I could join you in that shower?"

"Not at all," Frank murmurs, letting his lips glide over Gerard's skin. In the years since being in this close proximity with his skin, Frank had forgotten how soft Gerard's skin is. "In fact, I would enjoy that."

"Here's another question," Gerard says quietly. "What if, instead of a shower, we took a bath?"
"Just wanna sit between my legs, don't you?" Frank asks, allowing a small smile.

"Obviously," Gerard responds, rolling his eyes and smiling.

It's almost 2AM by the time they get back to the hotel. The elevator is still slow— maybe slower than the way down— but Frank doesn't seem to notice, not when Gerard is sucking on his neck the whole time.

"Don't fucking look at me!" Gerard laughs seemingly hours later (actually only maybe ten minutes), the sound of the filling bathtub making him raise his voice louder. "God! Can't a man get undressed in peace?"

"Gee, you act like I haven't seen you naked before," Frank says, pulling off his shirt and tossing it at Gerard, the fabric landing not-so-gracefully on top of Gerard's messy hat hair.

"Gosh, thank you for this wonderful present," he says, deadpan. "I shall cherish this tee-shirt until the end of my days. I will be on my deathbed, gripping onto this shirt, and thinking 'my Frankie gave this to me in April of 2011 and it's a shame he can't be here because he holes himself up in New Jersey when we aren't touring'."'

"Shut up, asshat," Frank says, walking over to Gerard and pulling the shirt off his head. Gerard smiles.

"Go check on the bath, asshat," Gerard says, laughing. Frank nods wordlessly and goes to the bathroom to check the water.

Gerard quickly takes off his shirt, putting it with Frank's clothes. He's about to start on his pants, but he feels a pair of arms wrap around his middle and a warm chest press up against his back while a head rests itself on the base of Gerard's neck. "Jesus," Gerard breathes. "Scared the shit outta me."

Frank says nothing, lightly kissing inbetween Gerard's shoulder blades. "C'mon," he whispers. "Before it gets cold."

The two easily fit in the bathtub, with Frank sitting inbetween Gerard's legs. "God, when's the last time we did this?" Frank asks, feeling Gerard kiss the back of his head.

"A long time," Gerard answers.

"Too long," Frank supplies. He slowly turns around, as to not disturb the water too much, and drapes his arms around Gerard's shoulders, leaning forward to let his forehead rest against Gerard's shoulder. "You're so skinny," he notes, his eyes scanning Gerard's semi-protruding ribs. His stomach is flat, like he had always wanted it to be, but Frank preferred the way Gerard was during Revenge era, when he had a little bit of fat. Or course, most sex during Revenge was Gerard in a drunk stupor, fast, hard, not very long. Frank knows that, now, Gerard won't allow them to sleep together; if he did, though, it would be nothing like what Frank was used to with him.

Gerard makes a sound of agreement and carefully moves Frank onto his lap, leaning back against the wall slightly. The room is quiet, except for the slight water ripples with each movement, until Frank breaks the silence and sighs. "I love this," he says, kissing Gerard's shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too, Frankie," Gerard says and Frank moves his mouth away from Gerard's shoulder to kiss up his neck and jaw, finally reaching his lips.

Passionate and loving, mouths working in unison, pulling away slightly and coming back in, long and lingering. Nearly soundless, except for their heavy breathing and the water moving to allow the two closer and closer until Frank can feel an indent in his chest where Gerard's key is being pressed against the skin.

"Frankie," Gerard breathes, pulling away. His fingers are tangled in Frank's messy hair now, and he releases his tight hold. He admires Frank momentarily, admires the way his chest heaves and how his fingers are locked tightly in Gerard's own hair. He feels no pain, though, and admits: "I want you. I want you so bad, but I can't have you."

"I want you too," Frank mutters.

Gerard swallows heavily and moves his hands down the sides of Frank's body. The more he feels, the longer he keeps in contact with this tantalizing man, the more the want grows. "We can't," he says dismally.

"We can't," Frank repeats.

"Damn it," Gerard sighs.

Frank bites his bottom lip, thinking of some kind of loophole or solution, but Gerard's rule is too straightforward for any loopholes to exist: 'nothing goes in anything below the belt' is about as clear as it can be. "Maybe," he starts quietly. "If it's okay with you, we can just keep kissing."

"That's okay," Gerard agrees. "Let's get out, though. It's getting cold."

"Yeah," Frank agrees and both get out, Frank letting the water out. The room is slightly hazy from the temperature of the water and mist clings to the mirror, making the men nothing more than shapeless colors.

Before he can understand what's happening, Frank feels Gerard's familiar grip on his waist, pushing him against the counter. Feeling Gerard's body covering his own is enough to get Frank to open his mouth and moan softly. Wordlessly, Gerard moves his hands down Frank's legs, lifting him up to sit on the counter, and he wraps the man's legs around his waist.

"Fuck, Gee," Frank moans, tightening his grip on Gerard's hair. Both never want it to end.

"Frankie, sugar," Gerard purrs, pulling his lips away from Frank's, leaving him panting for air. "You're so hard, baby. It doesn't take much, does it?"

"Shut it and fuck me," Frank begs. "Please."

Gerard considers the offer for a moment before lightly kissing Frank's forehead. "Of course." He starts to move away, to move to the bedroom, but Frank whines, placing his hands on Gerard's shoulders and pulling him back to him.

"Here," he says quietly. "Now."

Gerard leans forward, kissing Frank once more and hearing him moan again. Gerard can't deny that the noises spilling from Frank's mouth are arousing, and it makes him want to break his rule even more.

He slowly lets his fingers trail down Frank's back, fluttering against his inked skin, before pressing his index finger against the base of his spine. Frank arches his back, tossing his head back, and chokes back a moan that he knows would be heard in the rooms closest to them. Gerard brings his hand up to Frank's mouth, slowly pushing his fingers in with the untold command to lick.

He's missed it. Six years since he had felt Frank's tongue glide over his fingers; since he had heard Frank beg; since he had felt him from the inside. Six years was too long. The room is now silent, yet Gerard's mind is whirling. He pulls his fingers out and takes his hand back down to Frank's lower back, trailing his fingers against the skin until he reaches Frank's hole, slowly pushing in one finger.

"Fuck!" Frank cries, and his muscles tighten around Gerard's finger. It had been a long six years for Frank as well; six years since he had anyone inside of him like this. He missed it as well.

"Do you want me stop?" Gerard asks carefully.

"No," Frank says after a moment. "Keep going."

Trying to regain his focus, Gerard pulls his finger out and slowly pushes it back in again, various cusses and sounds of pleasure spilling from Frank's agape mouth. Without so much as a warning, a second fingers is pushed in and Frank stutters out a low moan. His legs tighten around Gerard's waist, drawing him closer, and he pushes down onto his fingers, taking in a quick breath as Gerard's fingers brush his prostate.

He had heard that sudden inhale too many times to not know what Frank just did. "Feels good, baby?" He whispers into Frank's ear, licking around his earlobe. Frank whimpers in reply and pushes down on Gerard's fingers again. This time, though, Gerard is prepared, and postions his fingers just right so that Frank's prostate is hit dead-on. Gerard's heart bangs against his chest when he hears the long, drawn-out moan that he had waited years for, yet hears every night onstage. But this isn't for anyone but them, and he can fully enjoy it now.

"You've always loved my fingers," Gerard smirks, leaning down and kissing Frank's neck, claiming his tan skin inbetween his teeth.

"Please, Gee," Frank whimpers, digging his fingernails into Gerard's back. "I can't wait much longer. Please, Gee, fuck me, please."

"Since you asked nicely," Gerard purrs and pulls his fingers out, hearing a slight whine from Frank at the loss. "I didn't get to finish prepping you, so it might hurt."

"I don't care," Frank quickly says. "I want it to hurt. Then, I know it's real."

Gerard bites his bottom lip and looks at Frank's face, the bathroom lighting illuminating all of his sharp angles perfectly. His eyes are blown up wide, so that the honey-color is almost nor visible, and his mouth is hanging open, the way it does like when he's onstage. His whore mouth, Gerard remembers calling it at one point. The look of pure ecstasy highlighting Frank's features is enough to make the final decision for him, and, making sure not to hurt Frank too badly, slowly pushes in.

Whore mouth indeed. The cries, the cusses, the moans, the whimpers, all of it spurs Gerard on, thrusting in, pulling out, pushing in again, pulling away once more. Sweat forms on his hairline, but his hands are too preoccupied with feeling every inch of Frank for him to try to push the sweat away.

Gerard can't focus on anything except for Frank. It's almost overwhelming; at times, Gerard has the fleeting thought that the two of them fit together so perfectly, it's as if they were made for each other.

"Gee," Frank moans. "I'm almost there."

"Me too," Gerard whispers, suddenly becoming aware of how close he actually is. He's been too focused on Frank to worry about himself, but neither seem to mind at all.

"Cum in me," Frank says, his voice shaking with sudden uncertainty. "I need to feel it."

Gerard nods, at a complete loss for words. A few more thrusts and more noises has him losing himself in a toe-curling orgasm, moaning before feeling Frank's lips on his. Frank pushes his tongue in, capturing Gerard's face with his hands, pulling him closer. Frank knows his job now: ride Gerard through until the end of his, or go on until he comes; whichever is first.

Frank rocks his hips down to meet Gerard's, reaching up slightly and pulling on his sweaty hair. "I'm so close, Gee, help me," Frank begs once Gerard is finished.

"My beautiful Frankie, I know you can do it," Gerard says, kissing Frank's neck again. "I know you can cum, sugar. Do it. Cum for me."

Frank's eyes slip closed as he moans, throwing his head towards the ceiling and coming hard, his heart beating hard against his chest and heat immediately spreading over every inch of his body. Gerard watches, feeling as though he can't breath. He forgot how beautiful Frank is.
He lets his head rest on Gerard's shoulder after he pulls out, both of them trying to regain their breath. The whole world is far away from the two of us, Gerard decides as he picks Frank up and takes him to the bedroom, to much protest from Frank.

"I'm not five, Gee, I can do it myself," Frank insists as Gerard sets him on the bed, laying down next to him. Frank curls up into Gerard's side and mumbles against his shoulder: "I've missed this."

"Me too," Gerard sighs happily. "Me too."

---

The sun is out when Frank wakes up the next morning, stretching his limbs like a cat and yawning. A slight pain throbs at the base of his spine, yet he can't help but smile. He knows that it's wrong, what the two of them did; but he can't deny the certain happiness, knowing that the two of them share a secret.

The shower is running, and Frank can faintly hear Gerard singing over the running water, and he smiles even more. He wraps the blanket even tighter around himself and closes his eyes once more, wanting more sleep.

But then, the tell-tale sound of a key card in the door sounds and the door opens to show the younger Way brother, looking slightly haggard. "'Morning," Mikey starts, then quickly averts his eyes. "Oh, dude. You sleep naked?"

"What the fuck do you want?" Frank huffs.

"Where's Gee?" Mikey asks.

Frank doesn't get to answer Mikey's question, as the shower shuts off and, a few seconds, Gerard walks out, a towel wrapped around his waist. Silently, he moves to Frank and gives him a slow kiss, a smile showing through. It's obvious that he hasn't seem his brother yet.

"'Morning, sugar," Gerard purrs, keeping his lips close to Frank's. "So, I was thinking: what if we kept doing this?"

"Excuse me?" Mikey exclaims, his eyes wide, and Gerard jumps away from Frank, whipping his head around to see Mikey. "Doing what?" He asks, and takes a split second to connect the dots, then whispering: "No. That's not... You're both married. You aren't sleeping together, are you?"

Gerard gives Frank a look before turning his attention back to Mikey. "I wish we could say that, but then I'd be a fucking liar. And I'd be fucking a liar."

Notes

Here is a map of Centinnial Olympic Park. I imagined the guys staying in the Omni Hotel at the CNN Center, and, when I saw Foo Fighters in October, my mom and I walked from the CNN Center to the Hard Rock Cafe. It took maybe thirty minutes.

And here is my favorite picture of Gerard at the current moment. Honey-sweetie-baby, what is that hat?

xoKristin