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Gerard's fingers playing slow and gentle over his skin was the best wake-up Frank had ever imagined. (He hadn't imagined being awakened by his little girl smacking him across the face with a fairy wand, and that was pretty far up there too, in a weird masochistic way.) But Gerard's hands were fucking magical, and Frank arched back into the touch. Gerard made a soft sound, and Frank could hear his smile.
"Hey."
"Hey." Frank rolled his shoulders and tensed his muscles, enjoying the feel of Gerard's hand moving down his side. "Groping me in my sleep again?"
"Always." Gerard slid his hand down off Frank's side to span over his lower back. "You're so warm."
"Mmhmm," Frank said vaguely, pressing deeper into the pillow. He ended up pressing his cheek into a slightly cool patch of drool from the night, but he didn't really care. "I'm gonna get your face tattooed right there."
Gerard's hand paused, fingertips pressing faintly into Frank's spine. "Above your ass? No, you're not."
"I so am." Frank smiled and wriggled meaningfully. Gerard huffed out a sound, and Frank could feel the heat of Gerard's breath on the back of his head, but he started rubbing again. "Just a big fucking portrait, with all your weird teeth."
"My teeth aren't that weird." Gerard sounded mostly tired, but a little bit amused. "Besides, you've already got your guns. There's no room for my teeth."
"Good point." Frank licked his lips and shifted enough to crack his neck. Gerard poked him in retaliation. "Fuck you. Yeah, I'll just get one of the guns redone to look like your dick."
"My dick isn't even shaped like a gun."
"Jesus fuck, you're a downer." Frank half-rolled, so he was lying on his back, looking up at Gerard whose hair suspiciously resembled some kind of small rodent's home. His eyes were half closed, but he was smiling, and Frank wrinkled his nose. "Don't fucking grin at me, asshole. You shit all over all my best ideas."
Gerard shook his head slightly, and his hair didn't move at all. Frank made a mental note to manipulate him into bath duty. "Getting my dick tattooed over your ass is not one of your best ideas."
"You wouldn't let me get a portrait of Mia done either."
"You wanted it on your thigh," Gerard pointed out. "No girl should have to grow up knowing her dad has a picture of her eternally two inches from his junk." Frank sniffed, and Gerard leaned down to kiss the corner of his mouth and mumble, " 'sides, I told you, there's no way in hell I'm going to lick my daughter's face."
Frank shivered and turned his face to the side to match his mouth up properly with Gerard's. It tasted kind of like someone died; old smoke and a hint of roadkill. Frank ran his tongue over Gerard's lips anyway.
They snuggled for a few more minutes, trading kisses and lazy touches, before the touches got a little less lazy and Frank pulled away to kiss up Gerard's jaw, stopping to whisper in his ear. "How long do we have?"
Sunday mornings meant a lot of awesome things in the Way-Iero house. They meant no school (no lunch and snack to pack, no assignment book to sign, no backpack to pack or special alligator to be hunted down), no dance lessons (jazz and tap shoes to be put on the right feet and in the dance bag, respectively, and singles to buy juice out of the machine at the studio), no cartoons at six in the morning (perhaps it was the result of too much hard living, but Frank still considered six o'clock to be closer to night than morning), nowhere to be and no reason to rush. They meant brunch (Gerard made amazing french toast, and Frank didn't think his fake-meat hash was anything to scoff at) and piano time (Mia wasn't quite old enough for lessons, but until then Frank would pick her up and sit her on the bench next to him and let her plink at the high keys while he played). And they meant sleeping late, which was code for morning sex.
"At least twenty minutes," Gerard said, tipping his head back to give Frank more room. "I heard her reading to Emcee Snakey at like, three."
"Your little insomniac." Frank smirked and bit down under Gerard's ear. He couldn't play too much; after one too many "Daddy slipped and hit his neck on the toothbrushes," there had been an embargo placed on visible marks. But he could still tease, and Gerard's moan made it so worth it.
"She's ours, jackass." Gerard was smirking too, though, and he reached up to fist his hand in Frank's hair and tug him away from his neck. Frank loved it, went from oh-yeah-nice-semi-hard to oh yeah hard almost instantly at the nonchalant way Gerard just shoved him down under the covers. It was hot under there, and musky, but it only got muskier when he buried his face in Gerard's sweatpants, snuffling at his groin. Gerard's grip in his hair tightened, knuckles bumping against Frank's scalp, and Frank mouthed at the curve of his cock getting more pronounced under the attention. "C'mon, Frankie."
Gerard never had to beg (unless they were doing that), not on Sunday mornings. Frank wormed a hand up between them and pulled Gerard's sweatpants down far enough to free his cock. He promptly took Gerard into his mouth, going down and down until all he could smell was Gerard's middlingly-unshowered smell, only taste skin and sweat and more of that slightly bitter musk. Which, whatever, given the choice between morning breath and dick breath, Frank would choose dick breath every time. Especially since that meant he'd done this, sucked Gerard soft and slow and then harder when he whined. Slow again when Gerard pulled, and then with just a hint of teeth until Gerard's thighs started trembling around his ears. He knew all the good spots, the easy spots, how to make it hold off and how to speed it up. He sucked Gerard off just the way he liked it, hot and smooth like the first cup of coffee.
"Frankie, Frankie, jesus." Gerard's voice was still low, so as not to disturb any curious little sleepers, and slightly muffled from under the covers. But Frank could feel his thighs and his belly moving when his breath started to come faster, and after a million (give or take) blowjobs, he knew how to pull off just long around to press a wet kiss to the tip of Gerard's cock before swallowing back down around him and milking him as he came.
"Dick breath," Frank announced when he crawled back up Gerard's body before planting a sloppy kiss on him. Gerard never minded, and he kept his hand fisted in Frank's hair while they kissed.
"Y'could fuck me," he mumbled into Frank's mouth, and Frank's dick jumped at the idea, but the rest of him was comfortable and warm and didn't even want to roll away to grab the lube.
"Lemme fake it?" He pushed lightly at Gerard's shoulder, and Gerard obligingly rolled onto his side, even if he was snickering while he did it. Frank shoved his own sweatpants down over his ass to bunch around his thighs.
"You promise I'll still be a virgin afterward, baby?"
Frank settled in behind him, chin hooked over Gerard's shoulder, belly smushed against Gerard's back, and cock nestled right between Gerard's ass cheeks. Gerard shuddered and Frank thrust gently, getting a feel for him. "Of course, honey. Your bejeweled flower will be intact."
Gerard snorted, which ruined the joke, but Frank didn't really care. He thrust again and Gerard made a soft grumpy noise and said, "Gimme your hand." Frank offered it, only to have Gerard pull it tenderly close and spit in it.
"Jesus fuck you're nasty," Frank said admiringly, but he was able to at least slightly ease the rub of his cock against Gerard It was only a little while before he was slick enough to pull back a little and fist himself to make it really nice. He humped Gerard's ass and made Gerard hold his spit-hand even when he grumbled. Gerard started rocking back against him, even though he was way too old to get it up again (and a good thing too, they didn't have endless boner time like in the olden days), and Frank appreciated it. He let go of Gerard's hand and curled his hand around to play with one of Gerard's nipples instead. The low moan made Frank's cock twitch, and he smugly suspected that Gerard had forgotten it was the spit-hand.
"Come on," Gerard said, and it became one of his sex chants. Come on, come on, come on. And with encouragement like that, what was Frank supposed to do? He pinched Gerard's nipple when he came, biting down on the curve of Gerard's shoulder to stifle a groan. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sticky afterglow for a moment while he felt Gerard breathing. But they had to be cleaned up before Mia woke up, and Frank didn't really feel like going to find a washcloth. He moved back and wriggled back down, planting a hand on Gerard's hip and cleaning him up with broad laps of his tongue. Gerard shivered under him, whimpering a little, especially when Frank ran his tongue over his opening, just to tease. He traced down every last streak of come and came back up, grinning. Gerard rolled onto his back and arched his eyebrows up at him. "Dick breath, ass breath, and come breath?"
Frank just kissed him. Gerard kissed back for a moment, melting a little under his touch before toughening up and shoving him off. "You love me," Frank declared. He never really got tired of saying it, and knowing that it was true.
"I love you," Gerard repeated, with a little smile that made Frank think that he felt the same way. Then Gerard reached forward and twisted one of his nipples, hard. "Now go brush your fucking filthy sex mouth before our daughter wakes up."
Frank yelped and flipped him off, leaning in to breathe on him again before crawling out of bed and yanking his sweatpants back up over his ass. The connected bathroom had some vintage monster movie posters in it, because Gerard spent enough time in there to enjoy them ("I have a delicate system," Gerard would always say, prissy as all get out), and Frank looked at them while he brushed his teeth. He glanced at his reflection after spitting and he didn't think he looked that different. A little older, a little thicker, a few more smile lines. He rubbed the back of his hand across his chin, feeling the stubble. Maybe he'd grow the beard back--Mia would say "Daddy, no!" and Gerard would say "Fuck no" although not in front of Mia, but Frank always liked a little friendly controversy in his life. Besides, he looked distinguished with a beard.
He heard three sharp raps on the bedroom door and Gerard's always half-amused "come in." He still didn't believe they'd actually trained her to knock before entering; she'd always been way too well-mannered to have been raised by either of them, Frank had no idea where she got it from. But once given permission, she always barreled in like the starting bell had rung and flung herself into bed. He heard Gerard laughing, and "Morning, Princess. You sleep well?"
"Where's Daddy?"
"He's brushing his teeth. So he can give you a big minty kiss good morning."
Frank heard shuffling and then the same three raps on the bathroom door, and that was his authoritative baby girl. He smiled back at his reflection, and he didn't look that different. But everything was so much better than he'd ever imagined it would be.