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"Hey," Frank says, and Ray spins around in the shower and slips and slides and—
"Holy shit, Frank, you almost killed me," he says, gripping the shower bar and Frank's arm.
"Sorry," Frank grins, climbing into the shower and pulling the curtain shut. "Happy birthday, Toro."
Ray smiles, happy that Frank remembered. "Thanks, Frankie."
Frank grabs the washrag and starts soaping it up. "Turn around," he says, and when Ray does, he starts washing Ray's back, scrubbing away all the show sweat from the night before. Frank does a thorough job, getting under Ray's armpits and down his ass crack and soaping up his junk, his touch careful and a little detached. He makes Ray lean down a little so he can wash his hair, and Frank takes the time to comb the conditioner through Ray's unruly mane with his fingers, scratching at Ray's scalp until he's moaning.
When he's rinsed Ray off, Frank gets down on his knees, looking up at Ray cheekily, water droplets beading on his eyelashes. He's fucking gorgeous, and Ray stares as Frank leans forward and nuzzles at Ray's cock. "I gotcha a present," Frank says, and Ray chokes back a laugh as Frank starts to suck on his dick.
He's not hard yet, but he knows how talented Frank is with his mouth, it won't take long for him to get there. He focuses on breathing deep and slow, feeling the stretch of his rib cage and abdomen, trying to make this last.
But Frank's good, too good, and they've done this enough times that Frank knows what Ray likes best, and it's like a game between them, a test of will. Frank teases with lips and tongue, Ray tries not to come in five seconds like a teenager.
Frank likes putting on a show, sucking and slurping messily, little moans vibrating along the length of Ray's cock, sending shivers down his back. Ray can see the curve of Frank's shoulder, and the water makes all of his tattoos gleam brightly. He wants to lick the droplets off Frank's skin, but he's too busy getting the best blow job ever.
"Frank," Ray moans, and Frank digs his fingers into the flesh of Ray's hips, pulling Ray's dick deeper into this mouth, encouraging him to rock back and forth. "So fucking good."
Ray's too big for Frank, but that never stops Frank from trying, and he swallows repeatedly around Ray, and Ray pets Frank's hair, watching his lips stretched wide, his eyes closed, He doesn't want to hurt Frank, he always worries about that, but Frank's pretty insistent, so Ray flexes his hips, slips deeper into the heat of Frank's mouth and bites his lip, trying to make it last.
His toes curl hard when Frank bobs his head, making desperate, hungry little noises that Ray can barely hear over the sound of the shower. "Frank—" he gasps.
Frank pulls off enough to mutter, "C'mon, birthday boy, give it to me," before going back to sucking Ray's dick.
Ray hisses, torn between laughter and the lure of Frank's mouth. It's driving him crazy; he's close to the edge, and the way Frank's using his free hand to squeeze the base of Ray's dick, and play with this balls is almost too much, is too much and Ray makes an embarrassing squeaking noise as he comes, shuddering.
"Oh my God," he mumbles, bending over Frank, clutching at his shoulders. Frank's always been such a good cocksucker, and that's never going to change. Frank swallows and Ray's so sensitive that the sensation sends goosebumps racing over Ray's skin
Frank giggles, and stands up, letting Ray lean on him. He tips his head up for a kiss, and Ray can't refuse. Frank tastes bitter, like coffee and cigarettes and come. It's always such a turn on to taste himself on Frank's tongue, but right now he's shaky and noodle-legged from coming hard; he concentrates on kissing Frank.
It's always been one of Ray's favorite things to do.
Eventually Frank starts making little unhappy sounds as the water cools; they've used up all the hot water. "C'mon, big guy, let's get you outta here." Frank says, turning off the taps and pulling back the shower curtain. He steps out, and grabs the nearest fluffy towel and starts to dry Ray off. Ray makes a protesting sound, but Frank ignores him. "It's your birthday; I think I'm entitled to spoil you a little.
Ray settles down, lets Frank towel him off and nudge him back into the bedroom. He backs into the bed. "Nap time," Frank says softly. "Relax. Take it easy."
"Thanks," Ray mumbles. His eyes close without thought, like they're too heavy to hold open. "Frankie—"
"Sleep, Ray."
Ray's asleep before he can think of a smart ass retort.
"Hey. Ray," someone whispers, and Ray slowly eases out of sleep. "Birthday boy,"
"Mikey?" Ray asks, still sleep blurred.
"Yeah."
Ray's laying face down on his bed, and he can feel the sheet being drawn down his body. He's still naked from when Frank tucked him in for a nap earlier. "What?"
"Just relax," Mikey says, and he straddles Ray's ass and starts rubbing at his shoulders, brushing away his hair. Mikey's hands are warm and slick, Ray can smell something sweet and vanilla-y, and—
"Are you giving me a massage?" The words are muffled against the skin of his forearm. He thinks about moving, maybe looking at Mikey over his shoulder, but it's too much like work.
"Yup."
"Mmmm," Ray purrs.
Mikey chuckles softly. "Happy birthday, Ray."
"Mmmmm." It's the only sound he seems to be capable of making, because he's going boneless under Mikey's ministrations.
Mikey hits a knotted muscle and Ray groans as Mikey works it loose. Ray knows he carries a lot of tension in his shoulders; all his worries end up there, spreading to the back of his neck and making everything hurt.
"Took some lessons during the last break, Gee's gets pretty tense," Mikey says, answering the question that Ray was contemplating asking.
"Oohhh—" Ray doesn't really care how or why Mikey learned to do this; he doesn't want him to stop. Ever. "Mmmm."
"I like the idea of massaging you into wordlessness. It's hard to get you to shut up, sometimes."
Ray could hear the smile in Mikey's voice, but still. "Fuck off," he mumbles.
"That's for later," Mikey murmurs, and even though Frank blew him not two hours ago, Ray's dick is interested. "Mmmm?"
"Yeah," Mikey says, sitting up a little and really working on Ray's back. Mikey's careful not to tickle, firming his touch up as he massages down Ray's back, over his sides. He spends a few minutes on Ray's lower back, and even going so far as to kneading his ass.
"Lotta tension here, too," Mikey says, and Ray can't help but giggle a little. "Still a total hot ass, though."
Ray blushes, thankful that Mikey can't see his face.
Mikey moves down, working on the strong muscles of Ray's thighs and calves, the ones that get sore after being on his feet all day. Ray knows that Mikey has strong hands, you can't be a guitarist without building up strength, but knowing and knowing are two different things. He just hmmms and drifts while Mikey works on him.
When he gets to Ray's feet, Ray perks up a little, because there is nothing more awesome that a foot massage. He loves having his feet touched, and Mikey's doing such a great job of it, using his thumbs on the arches, pressing the palm of his hands against the balls of Ray's heels, working each toe gently until Ray is actually sure he's melted into the bed. He's never felt so relaxed in his life.
Ray's on the edge of falling asleep, but he doesn't notice when Mikey moves back up his body, fingers trailing lightly . It's all part of the background of being touched, and it's nice. Ray loves getting touched, and luckily for him, My Chem is made up of really touchy guys.
"Gonna make you feel so good," Mikey murmurs, and that's the only warning Ray gets before Mikey spreads his ass cheeks and starts licking.
"Oh, fuck," Ray moans. He doesn't do this very often, because it's really overwhelming, makes him hard and desperate in no time flat. There's no room for finesse, just wet heat and the point of Mikey's tongue pushing in.
"Mikey" It's already too much, Ray's dick is hard against the sheets, and he's pretty sure he could come right now.
Mikey doesn't speed up, simply sticks with his languid pace, using his tongue, fluttering it against Ray's hole, drawing little circles with it and making Ray feel like he's going to explode.
"Mikey," Ray says again. "Please—"
"Please what?" Mikey asks, and if Ray weren't about to come, he would roll over and show Mikey what for. Or something. "More," he pants.
Mikey blows a puff of air, and Ray shivers, because it's cool and wet. Ray ruts against the sheets, trying to get the right amount of friction against this cock, he's close but it's not enough, he needs just a little more—
"Don't move, or I'll stop," Mikey warns.
"Fuck you," Ray growls back. "Make me come."
"Pushy."
Mikey does something with his tongue and Ray whimpers as it sends a shower of sparks up his spine, tingling out to his fingers. "What—"
"Shut up, Ray. Happy birthday."
"Oh, fuck—"
Ray can't get anymore words out, can't feel anything anything except for the constant, soft stroking of Mikey's tongue. He's gonna die.
Mikey doesn't stop, drives him on and on, ignoring the way Ray tries to shove his hips back, taking no notice of the way Ray's making a begging, pathetic little noise with every lick.
Ray can feel the sweat coating his body, the way it's making his hair stick to the back of his neck. It's uncomfortable, but he doesn't want to move, just wants Mikey to keep going.
He comes, and it's a surprise; heat boiling over and shuddering through him, dick throbbing and every nerve ending singing with pleasure. "Mikey," he gasps, and Mikey doesn't stop, because he's evil like that.
It takes Ray a while to recover, because that was a pretty awesome orgasm. "Thanks," he mumbles, and Mikey chuckles a little and rolls him over. He managed to find a washcloth, and he cleans the spunk off of Ray, gently wiping him down. Ray tries to say something, but his tongue isn't working right and his feet keep twitching.
Mikey brushes back the hair that's fallen over his forehead and dips down for a chaste, sweet kiss. "Happy birthday, Ray."
Ray waves a hand weakly in reply, and he's asleep before Mikey has a chance to say anything more.
They take him out to dinner, a family restaurant. They dress up a little, pulling out the clothes they save for interviews, and it's nice. Ray has a couple of beers, and they laugh a lot. They make each other laugh, and that's something that makes their life on the road, squished into a bus, bearable.
Frank's telling some story about a band dude who was dumb as a rock, and Gerard is giggling his creepy little giggle, echoed by Mikey, and Ray loves his band, he really does. He can't imagine life without these guys. They're his friends, his brothers.
It makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Their server brings out a birthday cake and they all sing happy birthday to him, and he's glad that his blush is hidden in the dim lighting of the restaurant. Ray lets himself eat two slices of cake and then his attention is caught by a bit of chocolate frosting on Gerard's chin.
Ray can't help himself, he licks his thumb and reaches out, wiping the frosting away. Gerard looks at him from under his lashes and it sends desire burning through his blood.
They head back to the hotel for an early night; tomorrow's a travel day and they have to be up bright and early. He thanks them all, because it's been the best birthday ever. Well, since the last one, anyway. Frank and Mikey hug him hard, and Gerard leads him back to the room they're sharing.
The maids has been in and changed the sheets, which Ray appreciates. He has no desire to sleep in the wet spot.
Gerard pulls him in for a kiss, walking them slowly toward the bed, so Ray thinks maybe the clean sheets won't be clean for much longer. Gerard's hard against his hip, and yeah, Ray's totally up for birthday shenanigans. More birthday shenanigans.
He loves his band.
"Happy birthday," Gerard says, a little breathless. "I'm going to make you feel so good." He croons the words, and it makes Ray smile. Ray's totally willing to let Gerard do all the hard work. He's full and feeling lazy, so yeah, he's down with that.
Gerard's determined and focused; he makes short work of Ray's clothes, dropping them to the floor in little piles. He thinks about complaining, because clean and nice, but he lets himself be distracted by Gerard's kisses.
Gerard's kisses are a lot like Gerard himself: intent, earnest, and sweet. Ray loves kissing Gerard, it makes his heart flutter in his chest.
The back of his knees hit the the mattress and Gerard nudges him down, covering Ray's body with his own. Ray shivers at the touch of skin-on-skin; he hadn't realized that Gerard's busy hands had been quite that busy. He lets his fingernails drag lightly down the soft skin of Gerard's back, following the line of his spine. Gerard pulls away with a gasp. "Scootch back," he says, and Ray wiggles until his head is cradled by the pillows, looking up at Gerard. Gerard follows, spreading Ray's thighs wide, making a place for himself.
Gerard is beautiful, pale skin and bright red hair, freckles and scars. Thinking back, Ray's sure that he's always thought Gerard was gorgeous, even when he was chubby and drunk all the time. Something about his intensity, the way he looks at Ray like he's the most important person in his world, it's compelling and unabashedly sexual.
"So pretty, Ray," Gerard whispers, and Ray can't help but laugh at the way their thoughts echo each other. "Just thinking about your cock makes my mouth water." He runs his hands up and down Ray's thighs, fingers playing with the dusting of hair there, and it ratchets up the need simmering in his blood.
Only Gerard could say something straight out of a cheesy porn and make it sound hot. "Fuck, Gerard—"
"Yeah, that's the idea, eventually," he says with a grin, and before Ray can say anything else, he's leaning down and mouthing at Ray's dick, hot and wet. Gerard licks the head of Ray's cock and Ray can't help himself, his entire body twitches as the sensation rasps over his nerves. It's almost too much, he's too sensitive, but it's like Gerard knows, he presses sloppy kisses down the shaft, using his hand to slowly jack Ray off.
"Gerard—" Ray knows he sounds desperate, but he doesn't care. His hands scrabble for Gerard's shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but he can't get a grip on Gerard's sweat-misted skin.
"Easy, Ray," Gerard murmurs. "I've got you."
And he does.
Gerard reaches out and grabs the lube and condoms on the bedside table that Ray hadn't even noticed. He gets a palmful of slick, wraps his hand around Ray's cock, and—fuck, it's cold, but the glide is smooth, and Gerard takes his time stroking Ray's cock.
"Ah, God—" He moans, the sound pulled out of him, hands fisting the sheets to keep from shaking apart. "Killing me," he pants.
"Little death," Gerard reminds him. "La petite mort."
"Ger-rard, you dork—"
"Gonna fuck you so hard," he says, twisting his hand, and Ray shudders. "Not going to finger you, just spread you wide and push in, make you really feel it, and you'll walk funny for a week—"
The words are incendiary; Ray blushes under Gerard's hungry gaze. "Christ, Gee—"
"Yeah," he says unsteadily, and knees his way closer. His hands are shaking a little, and that tightens the muscles in Ray's stomach. Gerard's just as wrecked as he is.
Gerard rolls the condom on, adds more lube and arranges Ray's legs over his thighs. It always feels awkward and uncomfortable at first; Ray's not used to bottoming. He feels the head of Gerard's cock press against his hole and bites his lip.
"Ray," Gerard breathes, and leans down to kiss him. Ray wraps his arms around Gerard's neck and kisses back, tasting coffee and cigarettes, so familiar. Gerard rocks forward and back, teasing both of them as he slowly, so fucking slowly, pushes in. "Gonna open up for me, let me in so I can make you feel good? Fill you up—"
Ray doesn't recognize the sound he makes as Gerard slides home. It's too much, he's too much, too deep, Ray can't take it, he's—
"Ow, motherfucker!"
Gerard grins, and kisses the spot he just bit. "You weren't paying attention," he pants, color high on his cheeks. He's sweating, and radiating an intensity that's riveting, and Ray shifts around, wrapping his arms and legs around Gerard, pulling him close and squeezing hard.
Wheezing, Gerard chokes out a laugh. "Love you too, Toro," he says, and starts moving carefully. Ray can feel how tight he is around Gerard's dick; it's a stretch to take him, and it hurts a little, but he's mostly overwhelmed by the closeness he feels with Gerard. It's intimate, and Ray struggles to keep from being pulled under by what he's feeling.
"Got you," Gerard says again, and the words loosen something inside of Ray, and the sensations rush through him, friction and heat. His cock is so hard it hurts, and with each thrust it rubs deliciously against Gerard's belly.
Ray groans, eyes clenched shut and head thrown back, blunt nails digging into Gerard's shoulders. "Fuck, Gee, please, please, oh fuck—" He's not going to last, his muscles are winding tighter and tighter, and he can feel how big Gerard is, how deep he gets with each push forward.
"C'mon, Ray," Gerard gasps, and the heat pools in Ray's belly and between his legs. Every sense is magnified and all he can do is let the pleasure wash over him, driving him higher.
It snaps, like a rubber band, and Ray hears himself cry out, the sound echoing in his ears. He's shuddering, nerves snapping and sparking like a live wire, and he can't catch his breath, lost in the blinding white static behind his eyes—
"So good," Gerard croons distantly, a long time later. The bed shifts, and after an endless moment, a damp washrag is wiping him down, sweat and tears and spunk. He tries to thank Gerard, but he can't find his words, and what comes out is an uncoordinated, senseless mumble.
Gerard huffs out a soft laugh, and climbs back onto the bed, pulling a thin sheet up over Ray. "Happy birthday, Ray."
Ray smiles. His last thought before he drops off to sleep is about how lucky he is.
-fin-