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The soft click of the spare bedroom door almost makes Frank yank it back open, grab his jacket and run out into the street; making sure to avoid those fucking dogs on the way. Phil's gentle hand on his neck stills his feet. Makes him want—
more touches, more kisses, just more.
Everything that he'd told himself he was wrong to want and double-downed on; twisting all that anger and hatred that he felt for himself and his piece of shit father into a tangle of barbed wire inside himself that ripped him to shreds if he so much as thought of touching it.
Makes him want.
"Half expected you to push me on my ass and kick me in the balls, Jack," Phil murmurs; that plush mouth of his ticked up at the corners in a charming smirk. Hands steady on his shoulders. Calls him Jack when no one else does, and because Frank wants him too even if he can’t bring himself to use that name. Feels like he killed that boy called Jack trying to protect him and he doesn’t have the strength or the breath to resuscitate him. Maybe Phil does though. He sees through Frank in a way no one else has since his father, and part of him hates it. Despite making a name for himself parading up and down on stage; Frank doesn't like being seen. It makes him feel small, like he's waiting to be judged and found wanting. Like he had all those years ago.
Part of him doesn't hate it though.
Not if it's Phil's cloudless blue eyes looking at him.
The nurse isn't a pushover; he's confident in a quiet, non-peacocking way. Knows who he is and is content with that fact in a way Frank can scarcely imagine.
"I've yet to see your balls," Frank chuffs; trying to be playful even if he's rusty at it. Doesn't know much anymore other than schemes and traps made to seduce and destroy, not romance and keep. "I don't want to damage the goods before I've even had time to test them out."
Phil laughs. “Cute.”
Frank hasn’t been called cute since he was a child. He feels his cheeks flush with heat. Turns and looks away; jaw clenching with the overwhelming uncertainty of it all. “Shut up, Phil,” he grumbles. “I’m not cute.”
“No, you’re really fucking hot. I just said that what you said was cute.” Phil pats his cheek, still smirking. “There’s a difference. Now do you want me to suck your dick or not?”
”What kind of question is that?” he scoffs; unable to stop himself pushing into the curve of Phil’s palm, seeking affection like a touch-starved cat.
”A genuine one. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, Jack.”
Oh.
He’s done so many things that he hasn’t really wanted to over the years - touched so many people he never really wanted to touch - he’d forgotten that it didn’t have to be that way.
Frank undoes the top buttons of his shirt; pulling it up and over his head, chucking it on the floor. Unlike when he normally strips, he doesn’t bunch and flex his abs or show off his guns; just toes off his shoes; toes curling in his socks. Feeling exposed more than on show. “Yes, I want you to suck my dick, Phil,” he admits; part of him just waiting for his father to come back from the dead to rip him a new one for even saying it out loud.
”Okay then.” Phil smiles, that soft little thing that almost has Frank flinching away at the gentleness of it all. Reaches back and tugs his scrub and Henley off. He’s all stocky and soft-bellied; covered in freckles and a smattering of dirty-blond hair around his nipples and trailing from his navel. So different to him in almost every way. Frank feels his cock start to plump up in between his legs, and the heat in his belly takes him by surprise.
It’s the first time he’s never had to force himself to get hard.
He exhales through his nose; carding his fingers through his hair.
”You alright?” Phil asks, because he’s a nurse and he takes care of people. Frank included. He can’t remember the last time someone wanted to take care of him. It sets his teeth on edge, the urge to snarl like a wounded dog coiling in his chest.
”I’m not made of glass,” he snaps. “I’m not gonna break.” Phil just levels him with an arched brow, and Frank holds his gaze for a long moment before huffing in defeat. “Okay, fine. Yes, I’m alright. Thank you for asking. Happy now?”
”Delighted.”
Phil Parma was an asshole when he wanted to be. It just makes Frank want him more.
”Can we get to the dick-sucking part now?”
Phil chuckles and tugs him close; hands running over his back, his waist. Warm and calloused from hard work, they’re gentle but confident as they touch him. Frank bites back a whine as their bellies brush against each other; his breaths stuttering to Phil’s more measured ones. He feels out of control and unprepared, like he doesn’t know how to improvise. It makes him want to run; change his name and hide in plain sight. He’s done it once, he could do it again.
He presses closer instead.
Phil cradles his skull, fingers speared through his loose hair. Slots their mouths together and kisses him. Frank sinks into it, letting Phil turn them and push him onto the bed. His back hits the sheets and Phil sinks to his knees; nimble fingers tugging open his jeans and pulling them down his legs leaving him in just his white socks and briefs. Dick straining against the cotton as Phil spreads Frank’s legs, shouldering his way in between them.
He throws his arms over his head; fingers twisting in the sheets. Unsure if he can touch. Doesn’t want to do it wrong. Scared to do it right.
Phil hums quietly, nosing at the crease of his hip. Palms his thigh, massaging the twitching muscle. “Do I look good on my knees, Jack?”
Frank swallows thickly, mouth dry with want. Phil’s strawberry-blond hair sticks up in tufts, inviting his fingers to sink into their softness. His broad shoulders keep Frank’s legs spread wide. His mouth brushes over the heavy, cotton-covered sac of his balls. Frank trembles where he lays. “Yes,” he croaks.
”You want my mouth?”
”Yes.”
”Say please, Jack.”
Frank T.J. Mackey doesn’t say please. He doesn’t beg or wait to be given things. He takes.
His belly quivers as he lays there, stock still. “Please, Phil,” he whispers, because each second he’s with Phil he sheds more and more of the Frank Mackey persona. “Please.”
”Good boy.”
He can’t suppress the shiver that ripples over him at the praise. Phil grins; pressing his teeth into the meat of Frank’s thigh and biting down enough to sting. Enough to leave a mark. Frank bucks his hips; precum spurting from his cock to dampen his briefs. “Stop teasing me, Phil,” he gasps, unable to stand how good this feels; the lack of guilt and hatred at himself terrifying in its absence, “and put your fucking mouth on my dick like you promised.”
Phil blankets him; mouth scant inches from his own. His blue eyes seer through to his soul. “One day I’m gonna spread you out on my bed and turn you into a crying mess with just my mouth and my hands, and you’re gonna love every second and beg for more.” He pecks him on the lips, a smudge of a kiss. Not enough. Not nearly enough. “But as this is your first time with a guy, and you are keeping the brattiness to a minimum, I’ll suck your dick like you asked. Because you asked. Well, demanded, but still.”
He winks at Frank and it’s so playful and confident.
Frank’s used to being the dominant one in the bedroom - telling the women he’s fucked what position he wants them in (hands and knees so he doesn’t have to look at their faces), and when to come (as soon as possible so it ends quicker). He’s not used to being submissive; to someone else taking control.
His dick drools in want for it though.
Phil pulls back slowly; nuzzling at the dark fuzz in the crook of Frank’s armpits, inhaling the tang of his sweat. Licks at the pebbled nub of his nipple. Scrapes his teeth over the ridges of his abdomen. Frank hisses as the pressure on his dick eases; Phil curling his fingers under the waistband of his briefs and yanking them down his legs, tossing them into the corner.
”Pretty dick for a pretty boy,” Phil murmurs; covering Frank’s cock with his palm, thumbing at the wet head. Splays his fingers of his other hand through the dense thatch of dark curls at the base and tugs. Frank keens; globs of precum leaking onto his belly.
”Phil.”
He huffs out a fond laugh; hot puffs of air tickling Frank’s balls. He’s so close - closer than any man has ever been - and it still feels too far away. He moves his arm; cupping the back of Phil’s head tenderly. Phil hums, like that was the right thing to do. And then Frank feels wet heat envelop his dick; Phil’s mouth stretching around him and sucking him down.
He jackknifes off the bed at the sudden heat; falling back onto the sheets with a punched-out groan. It was like sinking into a pussy but different. Frank likes it for a start. Isn’t gritting his teeth praying for it to be over. He never let any of the women he took to bed suck his cock; didn’t want to see lipstick marks staining his shaft, or his cum clinging to their lips. The velvety heat of Phil’s mouth makes him think of what it would be like if he got to press his cock into the fluttering clench of Phil’s ass. Or if the man built like a cuddly teddy bear but who could take him apart with just a smirk pressed him into the mattress and fucked his brains out.
Phil cups his balls in his palm; rolling their seed-filled weight in his hand as he suckles on Frank’s cock. Slobbering all over him getting him sloppy wet: saliva dripping onto the curls of his bush. It’s raw and gentle and Frank can’t pretend it’s anyone other than Phil between his legs.
Doesn’t want to.
He thumbs at the sensitive line of his taint, and presses down. Frank’s heart feels like it’s in his throat.
”I’m - ah, fuck - I won’t last long, Phil,” he grits out; tugging on the nurse’s hair, not hard enough to hurt. “You don’t want me to shoot a fat sticky load down your throat, you might wanna stop.”
Phil just laughs through his nose, like he’s saying, that’s the fucking point; the vibrations travel up his dick and catch fire in his gut. Frank barely lasts two more long, hard sucks before he’s curling over Phil’s head and pumping his release into his mouth. Phil swallows greedily; slurping down every drop, until he lets Frank’s softening length slip from his lips with a contented sigh.
Frank flops back on the bed with a fucked-out groan. “You’re unfairly good at that,” he says.
Phil barks out a laugh as he stands; cock straining against his slacks. “Told you, I’m a cocksucker, and I’m proud of that fact.”
Frank’s throat clicks as he swallows. “Yeah, well maybe I want to be a cocksucker too.”
Phil gives him that soft look again. “You sure? You can just leave it there. I can jerk off in the bathroom or something.”
The more gentle Phil was with him, the more Frank wanted to push himself. Take what he used to tell himself he wasn’t allowed to want.
”Take off your clothes and get the fuck up here, Phil.”
”Just so you know,” he says; pulling down his zipper and stepping out of his pants, “that pouting face you’re making right now falls into the cute category in case you were trying to avoid that.” Deftly removes his socks and underwear, revealing more pale, freckled skin, dark blond hair, and a fat cock that makes Frank’s mouth water and his ass clench in want.
Frank flips him the bird, and Phil throws his head back in laughter; exposing the tempting line of his throat. He climbs on the bed; thick thighs either side of Frank’s hips, and Frank yanks him close; biting and sucking a mark into the crook of his neck, before he can tell himself not to. Phil moans; grinding his dick down against Frank’s stomach, smearing precum over his heated skin. Frank paws at Phil’s flank, his ass; massaging the soft globes of his ass cheeks.
Smacks his palm down, a sharp crack in the quiet of the bedroom. “Get up here and feed me your cock, nurse Phil.”
Phil covers Frank’s hand with his own and squeezes; encouraging Frank to leave marks. “Be a good boy and say please, Jack.”
Frank narrows his eyes at him, because he can tell the asshole is smirking and teasing him again, but he likes it. “Please come feed me your cock, Phil. I’m starving.”
”You should work on your diet. Coffee and semen isn’t the healthiest.” Phil shuffles up the length of Frank’s body; tucking his knees into the curve of his armpits. Frank wraps his arms around the backs of his thighs; feeling the light smattering of hair tickle his skin. Phil sits up on his knees; his groin now level with Frank’s mouth. “Take it slow and easy, yeah? You’ve got nothing to prove and I don’t want to hurt you because you think you need to choke yourself on my dick from the get go. Understood?”
Frank rolls his eyes, but inside he appreciates the consideration. “Yes, nurse Phil. Can I have my dose of dick now?”
Phil stares at him unimpressed. “Hilarious.”
Frank winks at him, and then opens his mouth. Drags the flat of his tongue over the spongy head of his dick; musk and sweat filling his nose. The bitter hint of precum coats his tongue and he wrinkles his nose at the foreign taste. Not awful, he thinks. Then wraps his lips around the hard shaft and shoves as much of it into his mouth as he can.
”Ah, fuck, Jack!” Phil shouts; hips stuttering forcing another inch towards the back of his throat before he regains control. “What the fuck did I say, hmm?”
Frank shrugs up at him guilelessly and Phil snorts; not believing his innocence for a second. He pulls back a little; relaxing his throat. The ache in his jaw is sharp and not something he’s used to, but he likes the weight of Phil’s dick on his tongue. He focuses on the plump tip and suckles; encouraging more drops of precum to spill from his slit. His fingertips skim the cleft of Phil’s ass, teasing the heat of his dry hole.
”Good boy,” Phil murmurs quietly; petting Frank’s hair over and over. “Sucking my cock so well.”
Frank whines; rolling his hips, seeking out more. More praise. More of Phil’s cock. Runs his tongue up and down the shaft, tonguing at his slit. Enjoys the stretch of his lips, the saliva spilling down his chin.
”So good for me. Yes you are, Jack. Such a good boy.”
”Please,” he mumbles around the heft of his cock.
”I’m close to coming,” Phil says, voice strained from holding back. “You want me to come in your mouth?”
Frank nods; pulling him closer, blunt nails digging into the generous flesh of his ass. He slides his mouth up and down, fast and desperate, until Phil grunts out his release. The first pulse of cum hitting the back of his throat catches him by surprise, and Frank gags; flinching back instinctively. Phil’s cock slips from his mouth; ropes of sticky white painting his lips and cheeks instead.
”Sorry,” he coughs; cheeks heating in embarrassment.
Phil strokes the shell of Frank’s ear with his thumb as he stays there knelt above him; chest heaving as he catches his breath. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, without judgement; blue eyes sparkling like the ocean. “You did good. We’ll turn you into a real cocksucker yet, Jack.”
He drags his tongue over his lips, licking up the stringy ribbons of semen that made a mess of his face. Swallows. “Guess you’ll just have to let me practice some more, huh.”
”Guess so.”
Phil shifts back, sitting down on Frank’s lap. Frank rests his hands on his thighs, rubbing back and forth idly. Phil cups Frank’s cheek; smearing his cum into his skin. Marking him in a different way. “I’ll get a cloth,” he says; climbing off him and the bed to pad to the bathroom. “Clean you up.”
”You don’t have to take care of me,” Frank feels compelled to say. “I’m not one of your patients.”
”If you were I’d be in a whole load of shit for letting you suck my dick,” Phil drawls; apparently immune to Frank’s grouching and puffed-up defences. Wipes Frank’s face clean with the utmost care, chucking the cloth on the floor when he’s done. “And I know you’re not my patient.” He grips Frank’s chin and kisses him sweet and slow until Frank is whimpering underneath him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.”
Frank sighs in defeat. “Fine, whatever. We gonna cuddle or is that too gay a thing to want?”
”Yes,” Phil deadpans, “cuddling is more gay than sucking each other's dicks, Jack.”
”Might’ve been,” he harrumphs. “How would I know? My asshole father basically said everything I did was gay, and it wasn’t a compliment.”
”Yeah, well your father is dead and he can’t hurt you any longer, okay?” Phil stretches alongside Frank and tugs him into his arms, until they’re spooning; his heat seeping into Frank’s back. “You can cuddle and suck dick and take it up the ass if that’s what you want. You’re here and he’s not. You’re alive and you can live your life how you want - no more hiding, alright? Not if you don’t want to. Or if it’s just me that gets to see this version of you, then that’s fine too.”
Frank blinks away tears; dragging Phil’s arm across his waist to splay over his belly. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.”
”That’s okay.”
”Can you help me work it out?” The question lands in the quiet of the bedroom; haunted by echoes of his past where he’d done everything alone.
Phil snuggles closer; pressing a kiss to his nape. “I can help you do that.”
Frank lets out a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding, and smiles to himself faintly. His father’s death offering him more than his presence ever had when he was alive. Offering him a second chance.
A chance to be himself.
It's as exciting as it is terrifying to think about.