Frank/Gerard - crossdressing (more on the lifestyle side, not one-time kink)Rating:
mentions of violence, criminal activity, and homophobiaNotes:
Written for the no_tags
fic exchange in 2011. Part of this is set in 1924 and part in 1932, and I suspect it's part of a much longer story I'm still figuring out. Title from the song "Lola" by The Kinks. Many thanks to the people who looked it over for me!
They're both kids when Frank finds out, in the fall of 1924. Gerard's seventeen, quiet and thoughtful (head stuck in the clouds, Frank's father often says disparagingly), and Frank's a scrappy twelve-year-old who spends his free time trailing after Mikey and thinks both Way brothers are the height of cool.
It's a chilly, gray afternoon, and Frank and Mikey were playing baseball in the yard until it started raining.
"Guess I'm stuck here 'til it clears," Frank says as they tromp inside the Ways' kitchen. "So what should we do now?"
Mikey shrugs. "I got some new funnybooks when we went into town last week. We could look at those?"
"Sure!" New funnybooks are always a source of excitement. Frank rushes up the stairs to Gerard and Mikey's room, not really listening to what Mikey's saying as he hurries behind.
"Frank, wait, I think Gerard's studying. Let me--"
Too late. Frank pushes the door open and then skids to a halt. Gerard is standing in front of the mirror on the back of the closet door, frozen in surprise, and one long look is enough for Frank to take in the rouge and lipstick he has on, the blouse and skirt he's wearing, and the stockings he's in the process of rolling up his legs.
Frank stares. He's never seen anything like this before, never seen a guy look...pretty.
The prettiness makes it all the more surprising when Gerard--quiet, thoughtful Gerard--crosses the room, grabs Frank by the collar, and slams him against the wall.
"Mikey, in here now
," Gerard hisses.
"Gee, take it easy," Mikey says warily, shutting the bedroom door behind him. "It's my fault, I should've--"
"Shut up," Gerard snaps, and then looks back at Frank. "Kid, you breath a word
about this to anyone
, and I swear to God--"
"It's okay!" Frank says, holding both hands up. "It's okay, I won't. I promise."
Gerard stares at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You swear?"
"On my mother's good name, man." Frank looks him straight in the eye, not flinching. "I can keep a secret."
"He can," Mikey adds quietly. "We can trust him, Gee."
That's enough to satisfy Gerard, apparently. He backs off, letting go of Frank. "All right."
That could be the end of it, probably. Frank and Mikey could take the funnybooks and go back downstairs and pretend nothing happened. But--
"How long have you been doing this?" Frank asks, and when Gerard shoots him a look he holds up his hands again, placating. "It doesn't leave this room, I promise
, but...has Mikey known the whole time? Where do you get the clothes? And, I mean, why
Gerard waits for him to finish, a smile starting to show at the corners of his mouth (the lipstick is a deep burgundy color, and it makes his lips look soft and lush, like velvet). His arms are folded across his chest, his hips cocked slightly to one side, and he looks like a girl in a magazine.
"Okay, kid," he says, smile growing. "If you really want to know: I've only been dressing up for about six months but I started stealing my mom's lipstick two years ago, Mikey's known the whole time, whenever my folks ask me to run errands in town I buy myself something, hide it in the barn, and sneak it into the house after dark, and as for why..." he shrugs, the silky material of the blouse shifting with the movement. "I like it. It makes me feel good."
"I hope you're done now, 'cause if not I'm gonna go wait downstairs," Mikey interjects, having retrieved the funnybooks from his side of the room. He sounds the way other guys sound when they talk about their big brothers making time with a girl, playfully grossed out but not seriously bothered.
"I think we're done," Gerard says, raising one eyebrow at Frank. "Unless you've got any other questions."
"...I'm good, thanks," Frank says. "And seriously, I promise, not a word."
"All right." Gerard nods, and smiles at him again. "Thank you."
As Frank and Mikey head back downstairs, Frank can't help asking just one more question. "So...you don't mind? Knowing that he does it?"
"Why would I mind?" Mikey asks sharply. He looks over at Frank and then says, in his normal monotone, "Man, Eddie Thompson's big brother tries to pin everything he does wrong on Eddie and Bobby Rourke's likes to use him as a punching bag when he's bored. My big brother likes to wear skirts. Doesn't really seem that terrible, y'know?"
"I guess not," Frank says thoughtfully.
After that, Frank can't get the thought of Gerard dressed up like that out of his head. Things go on pretty much like they did before; he tags along after Gerard and Mikey going to and from school, plays baseball with them in the yard, saves his allowance so he can go with them to the picture show in town. He watches Gerard sometimes, trying to figure out if someone who doesn't know what he does in his room would ever be able to guess, but there's nothing Frank can spot that would give it away.
Frank knows, though, and it's like he's been shown a glimpse of some secret world. Even if they don't talk about it and he never sees Gerard dressed up again, he knows and he can't forget it.
Gerard runs away from home a few months later, and nobody seems all that surprised. Frank's certainly not--he gets woken up in the middle of the night by shouting from next door, and in the morning he runs over and finds Mr. and Mrs. Way grim-faced and silent and Mikey alone in his and Gerard's room.
The closet door is standing open, and all Gerard's books and pictures are gone from his side of the room. Mikey's sitting cross-legged on his bed, pale and red-eyed, holding a folded piece of paper.
"He left me a note," he says roughly. "He told me to go back to sleep after he and Dad fought, said it would all be okay."
"I'm sorry," Frank says.
"He left me a note
," Mikey repeats, voice breaking on the last word. "He didn't even wait to tell me goodbye in person. You know we were gonna leave together, once both of us were done with school?" He swipes at his eyes with one hand, crushing the note into a ball with the other. "He was supposed to wait
Frank drops down next to him and puts his arm around Mikey's shoulder, and Mikey crumples against him, his head on Frank's shoulder.
"I guess he felt like he couldn't wait anymore," Frank says, knowing that's probably not any comfort. "I'm sorry."
Eight years later, Frank's in the city, starting to make a name for himself as an entrepreneur. At least, that's his word for it--the law has a couple of less flattering ones.
He still talks to Mikey sometimes--he's in college up somewhere in New England, working on getting a degree and everything. Frank walked away after high school and never looked back, but Mikey seems happy in school, and at least he can still go home to his parents for Christmas. Frank, on the other hand, is spending Christmas Eve in a seedy cabaret waiting for the headliner--some dame named Louise, apparently, who has some devoted, drunk, and very loud fans in the room--to show up.
A spotlight hits the stage, finally, revealing a woman in a slinky, beaded black dress. Frank sits up a little straighter, staring. Louise is pale and dark-haired and gorgeous
, which is enough reason to stare, but there's also something oddly familiar about her. Frank studies her face, looking past the crimson lipstick and thick, smoky eyeliner, and--oh. Oh, shit
He has to stare for a minute or two, but...yeah, he's pretty sure that's Gerard, singing in an artificially feminine voice and vamping it up on stage like a professional. Frank supposes he probably is
He half-charms, half-threatens his way backstage after the show. The one guy who seems to make up the club's entire security force probably doesn't really believe Frank's an old friend of Louise's, but he does believe Frank's not a guy to mess with (if there's one thing Frank's learned in the last few years, it's how to intimidate people). He lets himself into the dressing room, and suddenly it's like a weird flashback to eight years ago, with Frank in the doorway and Gerard in front of a mirror, frozen in shock.
"What are you doing in here?" Gerard demands, his voice still falsetto, rising from his chair. "Where's Sid?"
"Sid took a walk," Frank says cheerfully, and takes his hat off. "It's been a while, hasn't it? How are you, Gerard?"
Gerard's brow furrows. "What did you just call me? Who the hell--"
Frank spreads his arms. "Come on, I haven't changed that much, have I? It's not like I got much taller."
Recognition starts to dawn on Gerard's face. "Oh my god," he says softly, voice dropping into its normal register. "Frankie
?" Frank asks, eyebrows raised.
Gerard leans back against his chair and folds his arms, a tiny smile starting to grow on his face. "I like Louise. It's got a little sass to it."
"I'll say," Frank replies, looking him up and down. Gerard looks good, even better than he did the first time Frank saw him like this. Part of that might be that he's more of a complete package now--high-heeled shoes, hair styled in tight waves, sparkly earrings and a rhinestone choker--but he also seems confident and comfortable in a way he wasn't back then.
Gerard laughs, and it's the same loud, unguarded laugh Frank remembers, the one that sounds like it's being surprised out of him. "It's good to see you again, kid," he says, and then gives Frank a once-over of his own. "Although I guess I shouldn't call you that anymore, you're all grown up." His smile slants into a crooked grin, and he adds, "Well, maybe not so much up
"Aw, come on, that's hitting below the belt," Frank protests, though he's laughing as well.
"Will it make it better if I tell you how handsome you got?" Gerard asks.
Frank tilts his head thoughtfully. "Eh, it might. Details would help."
They used to banter back and forth as kids, too--it was always easy and fun to talk to Gerard, even with five years between them. But it was never like this. This is...something else, and Frank's not sure where it's going, but he's in for the ride.
Gerard sits down in front of the vanity again, waving Frank to a chair a few feet away. "God, I can't believe you're here. I mean, what are the odds?" He pauses suddenly, as if struck by a thought. "You didn't know I was going to be here, did you?"
Frank shakes his head. "No, man, how the hell would I have? Wait--does anyone else know you're here? Does Mikey?"
Gerard looks down, hands twisting in his lap. "He knows I'm in the city. That's all. We write each other sometimes, but I just use a P.O. box, and I change it every once in a while."
One of the first things Frank learned about the city was how easy it is to get lost, and stay that way if you don't want to be found. Gerard obviously doesn't. But it kills Frank to think about Mikey still having nothing but words on paper from Gerard, after all this time.
"Don't you want to see him again?" he asks quietly.
"Of course I do," Gerard says. "I wish it was that simple."
"How is it not that simple?" Frank presses. "He's your brother. It broke his fucking heart
when you left, man. And he was always okay with--with you."
Gerard's hands clench in the material of his dress. "Yeah, and he was the only one in my family who was, and I know what would happen if our parents even knew he was writing to me, let alone if he came to see me. It'd be nice for them to keep having one
son they still talk to, don't you think?"
think Mikey should have a say in that?" Frank counters.
"What, so you showed up here to lecture me on how to live my life?" Gerard demands angrily. "What are you, some kind of expert?"
Frank spreads his hands. "Actually, I'm a guy who hasn't seen my own parents in over a year because if I went back home the cops'd nab me for bootlegging, assaulting an officer, and jumping bail."
Gerard blinks, taken aback.
"Although I gotta say, the officer wouldn't have gotten assaulted if he'd stuck to arresting me and not felt the need to insult my mother," Frank adds. "So there's that in my favor."
Gerard laughs and shakes his head. "Wow. You really are
all grown up. Though, I'm not the bootlegger here, so correct me if I'm wrong, but I've got the impression it's not something you go around telling people about."
Frank shrugs. "I've known your secret for years. Seems only fair."
"That's sweet," Gerard says, giving him a knowing look. "Of course, your willingness to tell me your secrets could
have something to do with the fact that since you know mine, it would be pretty risky for me to tell anyone yours."
"Yeah, well, there's that, too," Frank concedes. "But mostly it's the nice reason."
"I'm not sure I believe you," Gerard says, but he's smiling.
Frank stands, walking closer to Gerard's chair. "Yeah? Then I guess you might not believe me when I say I've had a thing for you since I was twelve."
Gerard's face goes blank with surprise, eyes wide, red lips parted slightly. "Frank..."
"Since before that time I saw you dressed up, I should clarify," Frank adds, taking another step closer. "Not that I knew it was a thing at first, I just used to wish you were my
big brother. Then after I saw you, I figured out I...didn't really think of you like a brother. And then you left before I was old enough to do anything about it, but let's just say I spent a lot of time thinking about what might have been."
Gerard stares up at him. His hands are still clenched in his lap, knuckles white, and there's a flush spreading across his pale cheeks.
"Frankie," he says again, and then swallows hard. "Are you sure about this?"
Frank reaches out. His fingers brush Gerard's cheek and the side of his neck, creep up into his hair. "Eight years is a long time to think something over, Gee."
He leans down and brushes his mouth against Gerard's lightly. It's more of a question than a kiss, and he pauses like that, tasting Gerard's lipstick and waiting for his answer.
At first, Gerard is still against him, not even breathing. Then his chin tilts up and he presses back into the kiss, sighing into Frank's mouth. Frank deepens the kiss, tilting his head for a better angle, and slides his hand up further into Gerard's hair, messing up his carefully done waves.
Gerard puts his hands on Frank's arms and backs him up a little, but only so that he can stand. He's got a good few inches on Frank with his heels on, and he tilts his head down and goes right back to kissing him, sliding his hands restlessly over Frank's shoulders.
"This is crazy," he whispers between kisses. "I'm so used to remembering you as my kid brother's friend, but you're really, really not a kid anymore, are you?"
Frank curls a hand around Gerard's waist and presses his hips against Gerard's, making him gasp. "If you want, I can show you just how much I'm not a kid anymore."
"I think you'd better," Gerard says, tipping his forehead against Frank's.
Frank draws him in for another long kiss, then pulls back, taking a deep breath. "Is there somewhere we can go?" He's ready to go here and now, but it feels like this should be more than a quick go-round in a cabaret dressing room.
"Yeah." Gerard nods, kissing Frank once more before he moves away. "Yeah, just let me get my wrap."
Gerard's apartment is tiny and kind of a mess, but Frank barely notices. As soon as the door's shut, they're kissing again, Frank pushing the wrap off Gerard's shoulders and then settling his hands on Gerard's waist, Gerard's hands running up into Frank's hair, knocking his hat to the floor.
"You want anything?" Gerard mumbles against Frank's mouth. "Coffee? Or...coffee?"
"I'm good right now," Frank says, kissing under Gerard's jaw and nuzzling gently. "Really good."
Gerard takes Frank's hand and tugs him over to the narrow bed, pausing when they get there to take off his jewelry and drop it in a little pile on the nightstand. He turns around, looking at Frank over his shoulder. "Make yourself useful."
The dress dips down to the middle of Gerard's back, white skin framed by black satin, and Frank can't resist skimming his knuckles down Gerard's spine before he goes to work on the tiny zipper that runs down to his waist. He slides the straps down Gerard's arms gently, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, and as Gerard turns he shimmies a little and lets the dress fall the rest of the way down, leaving him in a lace-trimmed chemise that stops high enough to give Frank just a hint of the garters holding up his stockings.
"Jesus." Frank puts his hands on Gerard's hips, tugging him closer and kissing him lightly. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"
Gerard ducks his head with a tiny, almost shy smile. "You're not too hard on the eyes yourself."
He puts his hands on Frank's chest, sliding them under the lapels of Frank's jacket and pushing it back to his shoulders. Frank shrugs out of the jacket and lets it drop to the floor, tracing kisses from the corner of Gerard's mouth to his ear as Gerard goes to work on his tie. Gerard leans in when he gets Frank's collar open, kissing the base of his throat, and his mouth lingers there as he undoes the buttons on Frank's shirt, one by one.
Frank tips his head back, closing his eyes as Gerard's fingers trail down his chest. He wants to take it slow and let Gerard keep undressing him at this leisurely pace, and at the same time he wants to get Gerard on the bed right now
. He wants everything--everything he's ever fantasized about, everything he's never dared to, everything Gerard might know about that he doesn't.
Impatience wins out, and he tugs his shirt off and shoves his suspenders down hastily. Gerard pulls back, giving him an appreciative look, and then raises an eyebrow, curling a hand around Frank's bicep. "Frank Iero, is that a tattoo?"
"Yeah." Frank grins, looking down at the anchor. "Got a couple."
"Oh, yeah?" Gerard asks, tracing the ink with his thumb. "Can I see 'em?"
Frank tugs his undershirt over his head without any further urging, and then holds still while Gerard walks around him in a circle, taking in the flame on Frank's chest and the jack-o-lantern on his back. He trails a hand across the latter slowly, and he's smiling fondly as he moves around to face Frank and kiss him again.
Frank leans into the kiss, trying to deepen it, but Gerard pulls away quickly, dipping his head to kiss Frank's neck. His hands go to Frank's waist, undoing his belt and fly with quick ease.
"Shoes," he murmurs right before nipping at Frank's throat, and Frank blinks in confusion, because for one thing Gerard doing that makes it hard to think, and for another he's pretty sure the word 'shoes' has never been sexy before.
"You should take your shoes off," Gerard clarifies, and then licks a stripe up Frank's neck, making him gasp. "So I can take your pants off."
Frank's pretty sure he sets a new world record for fast shoe removal. Gerard laughs softly, backing off to give him room, and then moves back in. Putting his hands on Frank's hips, he slides his thumbs under the waistband of both trousers and shorts and tugs down gently.
Frank steps out of his pants as they pool around his ankles, holding his arms out as his sides as Gerard looks him over. "See anything you like?"
"Yes," Gerard replies, quiet and sincere.
Frank smiles and kisses him. Gerard opens his mouth under Frank's, moaning a little as Frank presses in with his tongue, and Frank puts his hands on Gerard's hips and steers him toward the bed. Gerard lets himself fall back onto the mattress when Frank pushes gently, and Frank reaches down and lifts one of his legs. He slides his hand down Gerard's calf, the stockings silky under his fingers, and undoes the strap on Gerard's shoe.
Gerard leans back on his elbows, watching Frank eagerly. "I could get used to this, you know," he says lazily. "If the whole bootlegging thing doesn't work out, want to come be my manservant?"
Frank lets the shoe drop, lowers Gerard's leg, takes hold of the other one. "Depends. What's the pay?"
"Sexual favors and all the cheap coffee you can drink," Gerard says.
"I'll think it over." Frank finishes with Gerard's other shoe and pauses, running his hands over the stockings some more. "I want you like this," he says, low. "Just like this. Is that okay?"
"I'm wearing my good panties, but other than that I'm game." Gerard looks up at him, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth. "You really like it, don't you?"
"You have no idea
how much," Frank tells him, his voice rough with want.
Gerard meets his eyes and shifts on the bed, spreading his legs. "Show me."
Frank climbs onto the bed, kneeling between Gerard's legs, and bends forward to kiss him. Gerard's hands twine in his hair, tugging a little to tilt Frank's head the way he wants it. Frank slides his hands along both Gerard's legs--he can't get enough of the way it feels--and up his thighs, pushing the chemise out of his way. He brings his hands around and down between Gerard's legs, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of his thighs, and then all the way up until he feels the satiny material of Gerard's panties and the hard length of his cock underneath.
Gerard breaks the kiss on a moan, letting his head fall back, and Frank trails kisses down the white line of his throat before sitting back on his heels. He pushes the chemise up further, so it's bunched up around Gerard's hips, undoes the garters, and hooks his fingers in the waistband of the panties, dragging them down over the stockings. Gerard lifts his legs and Frank scoots back on the bed to give him room, then pulls the panties all the way off and flings them aside carelessly.
He slides back up on the bed quickly, grabbing at the back of Gerard's knees and dragging him forward to meet him. Gerard makes a rough, needy sound in the back of his throat and wraps both legs around Frank's waist, pulling him in tight.
"So fucking gorgeous," Frank's voice is practically a growl. He slides his hands up over Gerard's hips and stomach to his chest, feeling the heat of his body through the thin material of the chemise. There's padding in the bodice, but it gives under Frank's hands when he presses down to feel the planes of Gerard's chest underneath.
Gerard reaches out with one hand, brushing the curve of Frank's cheekbone and cupping his jaw. "Kiss me," he says, and it's halfway between a demand and a plea.
Frank curls forward over Gerard, framing his face with one hand. Gerard's lipstick is smeared already, and Frank messes it up even more, rubbing his thumb across Gerard's bottom lip before kissing him hard, plunging his tongue into Gerard's mouth. With his other hand, he reaches down between their bodies, fumbling in the close space until he can wrap a hand around both their cocks at once. Gerard moans into the kiss, gripping fistfuls of Frank's hair, and Frank works his hand fast and rough.
He's wound up too tight and Gerard feels too good for him to draw it out any longer, and he comes first, moaning brokenly into Gerard's mouth and shaking all over. He doesn't let up for a second, propping himself up with his free hand and working Gerard hard, smearing his come around to make the slide of his hand on Gerard's cock faster and sweeter. Gerard tosses his head, neck arching, hair spread out on the pillow, and he cries out "Frank, Frank, oh my god
--" and comes hard.
They lie still for a few moments, both panting for breath. Frank has his face pressed into the curve of Gerard's neck, and Gerard has one arm flung over his head and his other hand still in Frank's hair, stroking gently now. After a while Frank stirs, peeling himself away from Gerard, and looks down at the sticky mess covering his hand and both their bellies.
"You got a towel?" he asks, and Gerard gestures vaguely without opening his eyes. Frank drags himself out of bed, finds the bathroom and a hand towel, and when he comes back Gerard is sitting up to pull the chemise over his head. Frank sits down on the bed, cleans them both up, and then peels the stockings off gently, bending down to kiss Gerard's knee. Gerard reaches out to touch his hair, combing it back from his face, and then leans over to the bedside table, fumbling around in the drawer until he comes up with cigarettes.
They lie quietly for a while, curled up together as they smoke. Frank has his arm around Gerard, his free hand combing through Gerard's hair, and Gerard has his head on Frank's shoulder and his calf hooked around Frank's leg. Eventually Gerard cranes his neck to look up at Frank, a familiar small smile tugging at his lips.
"So, I've gotta ask--after eight years of fantasizing, how'd I measure up?"
Frank leans in and presses a soft, light kiss to his mouth. "Better than I ever imagined," he says, and means it completely.
Gerard's smile widens. "Well, all the time you spent thinking about it definitely paid off," he says. He drops his head back onto Frank's shoulder, and his voice turns softer, thoughtful. "I'm glad you're here, Frank. Not just here as in my bed, though that part's particularly nice."
Frank presses a kiss to the top of Gerard's head, inhaling the heady scent of his perfume."I'm really enjoying that part, myself," he murmurs.
Gerard nuzzles at Frank's skin gently, then goes on in the same thoughtful tone. "I never thought I'd see anyone from home again," he says. "I always thought it would be horrible if I did. And then you show up and it's...nothing like I would've expected."
Frank makes a thoughtful sound, face still pressed against Gerard's hair. After a moment, Gerard twists his head to look at him again. "What, no snappy remark? Don't tell me I've left you speechless."
Frank looks down at him, smiling wryly. "No, I just don't think you're gonna like what I have to say."
Gerard sighs and sits up, crushing his cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand. "I'm guessing it has to do with letting Mikey know where I am."
"It's just...this isn't right
, Gerard," Frank says, figuring he might as well go for broke. "You two were always a package deal. And you know
he's good at keeping secrets--I mean, I never even knew he was writing to you."
Gerard draws his legs up and folds his arms over his knees, avoiding Frank's eyes. "Frank, I don't want to fight about it," he says. "Not right now."
"I'm not going to lie about having seen you," Frank tells him. Gerard looks up at that, and Frank meets his eyes, his jaw set stubbornly. "Next time I talk to him, whenever that is, I'm not going to lie. Not to him. So when do you want to fight about it?"
Gerard looks at him for a moment, then ducks his head with a rueful smile. "You're a good friend," he says softly.
Frank shrugs. "It's one of my better qualities."
Gerard glances up at him speculatively, tucking his hair behind his ear. "You thinking about sticking around until morning?" he asks. "We've still got a lot of catching up to do. Could be we end up talking more about Mikey at some point."
It doesn't completely satisfy Frank, but it's a clear peace offering, and it leaves the door open for more. Frank leans across Gerard to crush out his cigarette, then turns his head and kisses Gerard's cheek. "Sounds good."
Gerard turns his head to meet Frank's mouth, and they kiss for a long, sweet moment. Gerard pulls back and rests his forehead against Frank's, and Frank raises a hand to Gerard's face, brushing his knuckles against Gerard's cheek.
"If you're gonna stay the night, I should warn you I'm a cover-hog," Gerard says.
"Yeah, well, I'm pretty clingy, so I hope you like cuddling," Frank returns.
"Hey, as long as you don't kick, we're in business." Gerard turns the lamp off and pulls the covers up, and they settle down in bed together, facing each other. "We're a hell of a pair, aren't we?" Gerard asks softly. "Two misfits from the same place, and we end up in the same place again after all this time. Maybe it's fate."
"I don't believe in fate," Frank tells him.
Gerard looks at him in the warm, close darkness, a hint of a smile on his lips. "What do you believe in?"
Frank meets his eyes, returning the smile. "Right now I believe I'm going to kiss you," he says, and leans in.