Hand down his pants, wet mouth on the back of his neck. Face pressed to the back of the seat, feet cold, hanging down. Clothes sweaty, but mostly warm. Van isn't moving anymore.
Frank unsticks his lips from each other and says, "Gee?"
If it's not Gerard he might have to laugh (Ray or Mikey) or move (Matt), might have to open his eyes. Might have to say another name.
"Yeah," Gerard breathes against the back of his neck, and Gerard's hand--inside his jeans, outside his boxers, squeezes a little on Frank's dick. He's not hard--just the thought of sex makes him feel tired, tireder--but it feels good in a sleepy way.
"Gotta?" Frank asks. Eyes are still closed, but Gerard's tongue traces a firm line from his shirt collar to his hairline, and Frank shivers, shoving his hips a little against Gerard's hand. Gerard's lying along his back, crammed up against him on the bench seat, but the van's not moving and Frank can't hear anyone else, just a faint beat, maybe a distant screaming voice.
"Yep." Gerard squeezes again, then slides his hand up to Frank's stomach. "This is your nine-thirty wake-up call, the opening act is already on."
"Nuh," Frank mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. Not enough time--he has to get dressed, get moving, get caffeinated, get in tune, and this little slice of time before the show is all he gets with Gerard in any given day, before they're up on stage or Frank's tumbling back down into sleep.
"Come on," Gerard says, rubbing his nose against the back of Frank's sweaty head. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty, we're gonna be late."
Gerard's warmth vanishes from Frank's back all at once, making him shiver in a much less pleasant way, and Gerard's hand on his belly tugs at him, rolling him onto his back on top of a couple of seat belt buckles.
Frank opens his eyes to glare at Gerard, but Gerard's hand just slides further up under his shirt, thumbnail edging along one nipple as he leans in to kiss Frank awake.
"I'll do your makeup," Gerard promises against his mouth. "Coffee's waiting, Ray's got your guitar."
Frank tries to growl into the kiss, but it comes out more like a sigh.
"M'not a princess," he mutters, letting Gerard pull him upright. "I'm a deputy."
Gerard laughs, and the bright sound shoots down Frank's spine, finally pulling him awake, making him miss that hand in his pants. Frank tips forward, thinking fuck mono as his mouth presses against Gerard's. They'll be late, but at least he'll be awake.
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