Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction purely for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of those who read it. No profit is being made from this work of fiction and it is not intended to represent true events.
Notes: This is for Duke, whose birthday I missed. He wanted something with Frank, Mikey, and sex under the peacoat. This is what I came up with; I tried to give it a domestic feel. Occurs during the Black Parade era.
"Your hair is so soft," Frank comments, running his fingers through it. Mikey turns into the soft touch, savoring the moment.
He's on his back in a hotel room bed, both of them still dressed except for their boots. It's a rare quiet moment when they can lie together and do nothing, the chaos of the tour just a buzz in the back of his mind for the moment. In a few hours, he's going to watch Frank get groped by his brother, maybe even go down on his knees in front of him, and Mikey's heart is going to clench and he's going to stare down at his bass, trying not to watch. But he knows he will, because he always does; he just can't look away.
"I got some different shampoo at that last drugstore we stopped at," he muses, sighing when Frank tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. The best moments are always like this; calm and relaxed and uneventful, a departure from the usual energy and chaos of their lives. Mikey usually loves the excitement, the passion he feels playing in front of a crowd, but this is a different kind of happiness. This is contentment in its purest form.
"Mmm." Frank tucks his smaller frame up against Mikey's, twisting to keep his hand in Mikey's hair and push his nose against Mikey's throat. A feeling of satisfaction washes all through Mikey's body, and he can't help but shift onto his side a little, winding an arm around Frank's waist.
What started out as a cuddle turns into a kiss, Frank's lips trailing from Mikey's neck to his jaw to his mouth. The kiss is slow at first, just an overlapping of lips and the occasional accidental scraping of teeth.
As it always does, the kiss quickly grows more intense. Frank bites down on Mikey's lip, and in turn, Mikey sucks Frank's lip between his teeth and traces back and forth with his tongue. As the kiss grows more and more heated, so do their bodies, and soon they're both shedding their clothes.
Mikey can't get back in bed with Frank fast enough. He pulls him in tightly, sucking in a heavy breath as bare skin meets bare skin for the first time that day. The kiss is hungry and desperate, with Mikey's nails biting into Frank's shoulder blades and Frank's hands tugging on his hair, slipping free fairly often because of how soft and smooth Mikey's hair is right now. Frank can't get a good grip, but Mikey doesn't mind. There are so many other good things going on.
They roll over, and inevitably, Mikey ends up on top. He tils his head back and groans as the new position presses his dick against Frank's soft stomach, Frank's own dick smearing fluid across Mikey's groan. The moment is hungry and urgent and desperate, their bodies needing contact just as much as they need to get off.
Mikey moans into Frank's neck, shivering when Frank drags his nails down Mikey's back. He's never admitted that he likes getting scratched; Frank just kind of figured it out over time, the same way Mikey figured out that Frank likes cuddling as much as he likes getting fingered. Mikey's hot with the thought of it all, their bodies sliding slickly together, dicks and fingers in mouths and asses depending on what they feel like. They don't always want the same thing at the same time, but it always ends up being good. Mikey's starting to understand what's meant by the person you're with being more important than always getting your way.
Frank's hand disappears for a moment, and in the next, he's tugging something soft and heavy up over both their bodies. At first Mikey thinks it's a blanket, but then he realizes it's his peacoat, warm and thick, binding them together as if in a cocoon.
He kisses Frank harder, spurred on by the intimacy given them by the jacket covering both their bodies. His thrusts are getting more erratic and less controlled, sweat and precum building up between their bodies, getting sticky and making the slide less easy, providing more friction. Mikey groans low in his throat, burying his face in the crook of Frank's neck, but Frank's the one to come first. It surprises them both, making them laugh.
Mikey's smiling brighter than he has in days as he looks down at Frank, and Frank's smiling back, eyes glassy in the post-orgasmic haze. Mikey just stares down at him like that, thrusting without thinking, rutting down against Frank until his own orgasm hits him hard, like a wave breaking at the shore. He tenses up and kisses Frank desperately, although Frank isn't responding much at all, but Mikey barely notices and Frank, well, he doesn't seem to mind.
Mikey gasps when he comes back down, bringing his face to rest against Frank's cheek while his chest rises and falls in an attempt to catch his breath.
They've both recovered within a few minutes, Frank's eyes focused and Mikey's breathing steady. He lifts his head up and looks down with a soft smile for Frank, seeing how Frank's returning smile reaches his eyes.
Frank reaches over, stretching his arm out to reach the bedside table, and comes back with Mikey's glasses. He slides them gently onto Mikey's face, bringing everything into focus. The magic starts to fade a little, fizzing out around the edges, but Mikey's still fucking happy. He always is with Frank.
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I like this story a lot. Thatīs my favourite moment: "Mikey groans low in his throat, burying his face in the crook of Frank's neck, but Frank's the one to come first. It surprises them both, making them laugh." :) Eva