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Mikey calls them at three in the morning to tell them to come down, there's something wrong with Gerard.
In the elevator, Bob squints blearily at the floor numbers. Late night, fluorescent lights, actual elevator music—there's a vaguely hallucinatory feel to everything. He doesn't look at Ray. It's not that Bob doesn't trust Gerard, it's just he can't think of a good reason for Mikey to call them instead of a doctor.
So it's kind of a relief when Mikey lets them in and they see Gerard on the bed, straddling Frank, pinning his wrists down at his sides and kissing him, slow and wet and dirty.
"Um," Bob says.
"I don't know," Mikey says. "It's like he's on fucking Spanish fly or something."
Mikey's hair is more disheveled than usual, and his glasses are askew, and—
"Is that a hickey?" Ray asks.
Mikey's hand goes up to the red mark on his neck automatically, and he grimaces. "Yeah, that's how we figured out something was wrong. Fuck, I told him that virgin daiquiri tasted wrong."
Ray gives him an alarmed look, and Mikey says, "I only had a sip."
They look at each other, and no one says we can't go to the hospital.
"Shit," Bob says, and they look over at the bed again.
Gerard lifts his head up and looks at them. His gaze is clear and sober, but there is an edge of something desperate underneath it.
"I want to be fucked," he says, low and hoarse. "I jerked off and fingered myself—" and that image goes straight to Bob's dick "—but it wasn't enough." He closes his eyes, and that edge of desperation becomes more visible. "Please."
There is a long frozen moment, and then Ray steps up, because Ray always steps up when Gerard can't, and says, "Okay."
Some of the tension goes out of Gerard's shoulders, and he falls forward to kiss Frank again.
"You got lube?" Ray asks Mikey, and Mikey kind of jerks his chin towards their suitcases.
Bob digs out the key card for his and Ray's room, and offers it to Mikey.
Mikey has both arms wrapped around himself, but he glares at Bob anyway, and Bob understands: Mikey isn't leaving Gerard like this, even with them.
Bob drops the key card on top of the mini-bar instead, just in case.
Ray has a box of condoms and several bottles of lube, and is sitting next to Frank and Gerard on the bed now.
"Hey, Frankie, you okay?" he asks.
Frank doesn't break the kiss, just unclenches his hand from the sheets long enough to give them a thumbs up. Ray snorts out a laugh.
Gerard's naked from the waist down, and Ray tugs at his t-shirt, saying, "C'mon, up."
Bob is kind of afraid that if he catches Frank's eye, he's going to start laughing hysterically at this whole situation. But then he sees Frank's face—soft and dazed, pupils blown, mouth swollen—and he doesn't feel like laughing anymore.
Bob helps Frank eel out of his sweats, hands him a condom. Ray is urging Gerard to get on his hands and knees over Frank. He runs a hand down Gerard's back, and slides two slick fingers inside him, fast and easy, and Ray has fucking long fingers.
Gerard hisses and drops his head. "Yes, fuck, c'mon," he says, as Ray opens him up. "Come on."
Ray leans forward and kisses Gerard's shoulder blade, quick and affectionate, and pulls his fingers out.
Gerard kneels back, and Ray steadies him, and he sinks down onto Frank's cock in one single move. Frank makes this noise in the back of his throat, thin and high and sharp, and his hands close convulsively on Gerard's hips.
Gerard is awkward and clumsy and they can't get a rhythm going. Frank—Frank is small but wiry, and he rolls them both, so Gerard ends up on his back, and Frank can fuck him in earnest, hard and fast. Bob stares at the long pale curve of Gerard's throat, and can't imagine either one of them is going to last very long.
Gerard comes first, cursing and gasping Frank's name. Frank's hips stutter to a stop and he collapses on top of Gerard, his mouth pressed open and soundless against Gerard's throat.
The room is silent except for the sound of their breathing, and Bob vaguely thinks that five people shouldn't make that much noise.
Frank rolls off of Gerard, pulling out with a slithery, wet noise and flopping down next to him.
Gerard shifts restlessly, and Bob sees that he's still hard.
Ray pets Gerard's thigh and looks up at Bob. Bob makes a helpless little after you gesture, because he is so turned on he's dizzy and also completely out of his depth.
Ray strips, unselfconscious, and Bob and Gerard both watch him. He puts on a condom and slicks himself up, and slides into Gerard in one long, slow stroke.
Gerard makes a joyful noise and wraps his hands in Ray's hair, pulling him down into a kiss.
Ray fucks him hard but slow, like he's going to make it last all night. The muscles in his back and thighs and arms flex and shift beneath his skin, and Bob has to look away for a minute.
"Hey," Mikey says from the other bed, "I think you're wearing too many clothes."
"What?"
It's Frank who reaches out and tugs at his hoodie, giving him a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
Bob bats his hand away, but starts taking off his clothes, fumbling over zippers and buttons. He looks up, and Mikey meets his eyes, face unreadable, then turns his head away again.
Gerard comes with a shout of release and frustration at once. Ray pauses, still inside him, and Gerard snaps his hips up with a little whine.
"Okay, wait," Ray says breathlessly, and pulls out to roll Gerard over onto his hands and knees. He pushes at Gerard's shoulder until Gerard's forehead is resting on his crossed arms. When he slides in again, he's not moving slowly anymore.
They're both breathing in harsh, ragged gasps. Ray shudders all over and falls forward, pressing his forehead into the middle of Gerard's back. He braces one hand on the bed and slides the other around Gerard's waist to stroke Gerard's cock.
"Yes, fuck, Ray," Gerard says, and comes.
Ray kind of slides off Gerard's back to lie in a boneless heap on his other side. Bob reaches out and brushes Gerard's hair back. Gerard presses into the touch and shifts his chin until he can look up at Bob out of one eye.
"Bob," he whispers. He licks his lips, gives Bob crooked smile, half-laughing, half-challenging. "C'mon, please."
Bob leans in clumsily to kiss the side of Gerard's mouth.
Frank already has a condom out.
Bob has to close his eyes just for a second when he pushes the head of his cock into Gerard's body. He concentrates on going slowly, on the way his hands look against Gerard's pale skin, the way his fingers fit between the marks that Frank and Ray have left. Otherwise, he's going to come embarrassingly fast.
Gerard's breath comes out almost on a sob. "Bob, come on, harder," he says, and Bob stops trying to go slow, stops thinking, just lets go.
His orgasm hits him like a baseball bat to the small of his back, and anything he would have said is muffled by the curve of Gerard's shoulder between his teeth.
Gerard collapses under him, and Bob goes down with him. Bob would be happy to just lie there, but Gerard starts to squirm under him. Bob lets himself be pushed over onto his side, up against Frank, and at least has enough presence of mind to grab the base of the condom before Gerard pulls away from him completely. Gerard flips himself over, so they're face to face. Bob has no idea what Gerard wants until Gerard's mouth is pressed against his.
The kiss makes something inside him loosen up, like relaxing a muscle he hadn't realized he'd clenched, sweet and easy.
Gerard is still hard against his thigh, and he finally breaks the kiss. "Shit," he says, dropping his forehead to Bob's shoulder and rubbing his hips up against him a little frantically.
Frank kisses Bob's shoulder, so fleeting Bob's not really sure it happened, and sits up. "Hey," he says to Gerard, "you could fuck me."
Bob's dick revises his recovery time downwards at the thought, but Gerard gives a frustrated whine and rolls over onto his back.
Frank crawls over their legs and kneels between Gerard's thighs. "Okay," he says, "I can—" He catches Ray's eye, and Ray sits up to hand him another bottle of lube.
Bob sits up, too, and gets rid of the condom. He feels momentarily bad for the hotel maid—the sheets are a mess and the whole room smells like sweat and come—but then Frank slides two fingers into Gerard, and Bob loses his train of thought.
Gerard hisses and arches up, and Bob pets his head soothingly. It seems like the desperation is getting stronger every time, like his orgasms are just feeding whatever's wrong with him, like scratching a mosquito bite.
"More," Gerard says, and Frank bites his lip-ring and adds a third finger.
Ray slicks up his hand and wraps it around Gerard's dick, stroking in time with Frank's sharp little thrusts. Gerard's mouth falls open, then twists up into a grimace, and he pushes back on Frank's fingers.
"More," he says, and his voice is completely wrecked.
Frank stops, and looks up, meeting Bob's eyes. "Um, I don't," he says, "I never—"
"Jesus, Frank, just, I need—" The rest of Gerard's words are lost on his shuddery exhale, and he bites his lip like he's in pain.
Bob sees Ray take a deep breath, then Mikey says quietly, "I can. I've, um, before. Not with. But."
Bob, Ray, and Frank all look at him, but Mikey is watching Gerard. He crawls onto the bed, slipping in between Ray and Frank, and reaches out, not quite touching.
"Gerard? Is this—do you want me to?"
"Yes, yes, Mikey, please," Gerard says.
"Okay, shhh," Mikey says, and pops the cap on the lube.
Frank shifts over, eyes wide, getting out of the way.
Mikey starts with three fingers. Bob is suddenly conscious of how long and slim Mikey's hands are.
Mikey adds a forth finger with slow, careful movements. His face is calm and intent, and the gangly awkwardness slips away from him like it always does when he is completely focused on something.
Finally, he nudges Gerard's thighs into a better position, and pours more lube over his hand. "Okay," he says, and looks up at Gerard again. When Gerard exhales, he tucks his thumb up into his palm, and presses.
For a second nothing happens, then his hand disappears into Gerard's body up to the wrist, and Gerard's spine curves back like a bow.
"Jesus, Mikey," Frank breathes.
Mikey does...something, and Gerard is shaking and coming, weak pulses against his belly.
Mikey holds very still until Gerard opens his eyes and says, low and hoarse, "Again, again."
Mikey turns his head and kisses the inside of Gerard's thigh like he can't help himself, and starts moving again, tiny, precise strokes.
All of them are silent, barely breathing, and the soft, slick noises seem loud in the stillness. Bob has no idea how long it takes before Gerard comes again. When his body goes limp, Mikey eases his hand out and sits back on his heels. Ray hands him a pillowcase to wipe off with, and he flexes his hand like he's working out a cramp. He's shaking just a little.
"Jesus fuck, Mikey," Frank says. He kisses the side of Mikey's head, then kisses his mouth, and Mikey seems to sigh and lean into it.
Frank pushes him onto his back and pulls Mikey's pants down. Mikey's hard and leaking, and he comes almost as soon as Frank takes him into his mouth.
Bob doesn't look down to see if Gerard's watching; he doesn't have to, to know.
Gerard's breathing changes, and he throws an arm across his eyes, and Bob does look down at that. Gerard's dick has wilted a little, but he's still far from soft, and when Ray strokes his side, he hisses and pushes his hips up.
"Gee?" Ray says. "We can go again, if you want."
Gerard nods.
"Who do you want?"
Gerard moves his arm and looks up at Bob, eyes huge and dark and drowning. "Both of you," he says, and Ray goes still.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
Bob doesn't ask Ray if he's done this before, because he doesn't want to know if the answer is no.
He lets Ray do all the work, get them into position, facing each other with Gerard between them, and...Honestly, there's a stretch of time that just disappears from his memory, and when he comes back to himself, his dick is buried in Gerard's ass and Ray is working himself in next to him.
Bob feels like he can't get enough air into his lungs.
He's holding onto Gerard's hips, and Ray's hands are covering his as they ease Gerard down.
Ray slides in the remaining distance, and Bob knows he's leaving bruises, but he can't seem to loosen his grip.
Ray has one hand on Gerard's face now, cupping his cheek. He's saying something to Gerard, but Bob can't hear anything over the white noise in his head. Gerard nods, and Ray starts fucking him, just barely rocking up into him, his dick stroking against Bob's, Gerard's body hot and tight around both of them. It's the most intense thing Bob has ever felt in his life.
Gerard's breath is an almost continuous breathy whine now. When he comes, his whole body goes rigid, clenching around their dicks, and Bob's breath stops completely.
Gerard collapses forward onto Ray, and Bob comes. Everything whites out for a second, and he's swaying like he's going to go down, but then Mikey's at his back, holding him up.
He's kind of distantly aware of Ray shifting Gerard off of them, passing him to Frank and Mikey. Gerard is completely limp, right down to his dick, and he looks barely awake.
Bob blinks stupidly at them, sleep like a black hole sucking at him. Ray reaches out and cups the back of his neck, tugging him down into the tangle of arms and legs.
They need a shower, and clean sheets, and an entire pack of cigarettes, and for a second, Bob wants these things desperately, but then Ray kisses the back of his neck and says, "Just sleep, Bryar," and Bob does.