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You should’ve known it wasn’t right.
Ray’s words bounce around his skull as he stares at himself in the mirror. Who the fuck is he to poke fun at Gerard for stealing his mom’s makeup as a teenager?
He’s a fucking hypocrite, that’s what. He’s a thief, a liar, a loser. A man who’s staring at his own reflection after stealing a dress that isn’t his, hiding it in his sock drawer for days as he waited to find enough downtime to do something with it, and putting it on only to find that he really likes the way it feels.
It started innocently enough. They’ve all been sharing a four-bedroom apartment while they work on the new album and, despite the upgrade in privacy that comes with going from a van to separate bedrooms, Ray has discovered that the men he lives with are filthy pigs. If he hadn’t taken some initiative and decided to handle nearly all of the chores by himself, all of their dishes would end up moldy in the sink and everyone’s clothes would reek all the time.
That’s how he found himself entering Gerard’s bedroom. His intention was to do the same thing he’d been doing for two weeks now - scoop the pile of dirty laundry off of Gerard’s floor and get it in the washing machine. This time, though, the pile was more like an explosion, extending from the foot of Gerard’s bed to his open closet, still-unpacked suitcase on its side on the floor.
And that is how Ray found himself with a long, sleek black satin nightgown in his hand, having accidentally unearthed it from a mountain of clothes on the floor of Gerard’s closet. From the moment he felt the soft fabric, some force compelled him to take it with him.
Is it creepy for him to steal a dress from Gerard’s room? Yeah, sure. Is it even creepier for him to put that dress on? Absolutely. But Gerard still having a dress that was likely left there by a one-night stand is infinitely creepier, so Ray supposes they’re even.
Directing his attention back to the mirror, Ray fidgets with the dress. It’s relatively simple - thin adjustable straps, lace trim on the skirt that hits just below his knees, a neckline that plunges into a deep V. It would be perfect if it were just a little tighter - his hips and waist would look gorgeous if not for the way that this dress is so loose on him.
Physically shaking that thought from his head, Ray makes his way over to the bed. He lays down flat on his back with his head on the pillow and one knee up, watching intently as the fabric slowly slides along his leg until it’s bunched up at his thigh. Gravity solves the problem of the dress being too large; he can feel it tugging around his hips now, keeping his hard cock pressed to his skin. The outline of it is nothing short of obscene, with Ray able to make out every vein through the thin satin.
He lowers one hand and palms himself through the fabric, gasping at the way it moves on his sensitive cock. He chose to forgo underwear in favor of feeling everything, and he is so glad that he did - the satin is cool and soft on his skin, brushing over his body like a breathy whisper.
He spends a few minutes like that, teasing himself with the sensation of the dress. It feels so foreign, and he can actually imagine that it’s somebody else’s hand on him because the feeling is just so unfamiliar. He starts to reach under the dress to get some more friction, indulge in the comforting and familiar feeling of his own hand around his cock, but something makes him hesitate.
He’s not sure what it is, but something in his brain is telling him that he needs something inside him right the fuck now, and he’s too horny to examine that thought any further. He fumbles through his bedside drawer, finds his lube, and slicks up a few fingers.
He circles a finger around his rim before slipping it inside himself, too impatient to tease himself any further, and works himself open quickly so that he can add another. He can get the deepest, most satisfying angle with two of his fingers, and this time is no different - he gasps and throws his head back as the second one enters, brushing his prostate by accident.
He finds a good rhythm almost immediately, twisting his fingers in and out of himself while lightly rubbing his own prostate with every stroke. It’s good, so fucking good, a little bit of static fuzz appearing around the edges of his vision, but it’s just not enough. So he reaches down with his other hand and starts rubbing his cock through the fabric again and yeah, fuck, he could totally come like this, bucking into a tight satin grip while he massages his-
The door opens and, like a fucking idiot, Ray freezes.
To be fair, there’s not much that he could have done even if he didn’t freeze up. There’s no other way for this situation to be read. Here he is, two of his fingers curled into himself while he strokes himself through a dress that isn’t his. Feast your eyes.
Expectedly, Gerard seems to be doing just that. His jaw goes slack as he looks Ray up and down, eyes widening in shock when he realizes exactly what Ray is doing.
Unexpectedly, Gerard steps into the room and shuts the door behind him.
Ray doesn’t feel any urge to stop him.
Gerard moves forward with an obvious fixation on something. Ray isn’t quite sure what he’s looking at until he gets to the foot of the bed, when he realizes that Gerard’s eyes are stuck to the two fingers he has inside himself. One of his hands moves forward in an aborted half-reach, like he wants to touch Ray but thinks better of it.
“Pretty,” Gerard murmurs, staring at his ass for a few more seconds before glancing up to meet Ray’s eyes. “The dress. On you.”
“Thanks,” Ray whispers, still frozen. Gerard’s eyes drop to his ass again.
“Can I…” he starts, trailing off as he brings a hand forward, hovering over Ray’s lower half.
He could mean a million things right now. Can I- is deeply unspecific. Strangely, that doesn't matter.
“Yeah,” Ray whispers.
Gerard climbs onto the bed on his knees and rests his hand on top of Ray’s, gently prying his fingers out. A shaky exhale escapes Ray’s lungs as he loses that blissful fullness, and a gasp follows it as Gerard picks up the lube, drizzles some onto his fingers, and easily slips two of them inside.
His fingers rub against Ray’s prostate immediately, pulling a surprised moan from him. Gerard’s hands are a little smaller than his, fingers a bit thinner, but he definitely knows how to use them. His eyes slowly rake across Ray’s body, pausing when he notices a few small wet spots darkening the fabric around the tip of Ray’s cock. He places his other hand on it and thumbs over the head, pressing down when Ray bucks into the contact.
“You’re so wet, baby,” Gerard whispers, almost like he’s scared to say it, and those four words light a fire inside Ray’s chest.
Ray’s moan comes out more like a sob as he digs his fingers into the sheets and rocks his hips up into Gerard’s grip and down onto his hand, reveling in the wave of pleasure that courses through his body.
“Yeah?” Gerard asks, sounding genuinely surprised. “You’re gonna get your dress all dirty.”
“Not mine,” Ray chokes, hips convulsing as a third finger enters him. Gerard laughs and yeah, duh, of course Gerard knows it’s not his because Ray stole it from his room.
“Of course it’s not,” Gerard murmurs. “You just get curious?”
Ray nods, embarrassingly desperate whines slipping past his lips.
“Poor thing,” Gerard says as he changes tactics, rubbing his fingers against Ray’s prostate in much the same way Ray imagines he’d finger a woman, and that mental image breaks him. Himself, his soft hips that flow out from a defined waist, his plush lips, his wide eyes. Beneath Gerard, the furthest thing from masculinity, but undeniably the “man” here.
Gerard seems to take notice. He wraps his hand around Ray’s cock and starts to really jack him off through the satin, not teasing anymore, really trying to get him there. Ray’s orgasm takes him by surprise, ripping through him like pure ecstasy has been shot into his veins. Gerard’s chronic motormouth helps him along, praise spilling past his lips and keeping Ray at his peak for so long, until he feels like he can’t take it anymore.
Gerard pulls his fingers out when Ray’s breathing starts to regulate. He moves away like he’s about to climb off the bed and no, absolutely not, that won’t do.
“Please,” Ray chokes.
Shit. He meant to be a little more eloquent, but he can’t seem to get his brain in order, not with the way he can feel the now-defiled dress sticking to his skin.
Gerard freezes like he’s been caught off guard before inching forward again, placing a hand on Ray’s knee.
“Please what, baby?” he asks, soft and genuine. Ray feels a pang of guilt at the way he’s startled Gerard. And the way he’s about to startle him even more.
“Fuck me?”
Gerard doesn’t respond immediately and, for a moment, Ray panics. Gerard’s eyebrows shoot up like they’re trying to find their way off his face and his grip on Ray’s knee tightens, and Ray is just about to try to pull a just kidding, man when Gerard finally speaks.
“Yeah,” Gerard breathes, hitching Ray’s leg up and sliding between his thighs. “Yeah, I can do that.”
He reaches for the lube again after settling in between Ray’s legs. There’s a part of Ray that wants to rip it from his hand, for Gerard to just push his cock into him and make him take it, but he balks at the idea when he remembers how big Gerard is. And that sets off a whole new train of thought, his mouth watering as Gerard undoes his fly and frees his hard, flushed cock.
It’s so big, almost unnervingly so: pretty similar to Ray’s in length, but definitely a little bit thicker. Ray’s eyes widen - this isn’t the first time he’s seen it, but it’s definitely been a while.
This is the first time that he’s about to feel it inside him. Ray sucks a shaky breath as Gerard lines himself up, drizzling lube over his cock.
“You make such a pretty girl,” Gerard murmurs, rubbing himself against Ray’s hole. “Wish you had a pussy right now.”
Ray gasps before he can stop himself from reacting to that.
“Yeah?” Gerard says, like a dog that’s picked up a scent. “Is that what this is? Your pussy?”
Unthinking once again, Ray nods, whining as Gerard slowly pushes into him.
“Good girl,” Gerard hisses. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.”
Ray gasps until Gerard bottoms out and whimpers when he stops moving, a horrifically pathetic cry that earns him a shh.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says, rocking back and forth, slowly fucking into Ray. “I’ll get you off, just be patient.”
“Just want you to fuck me,” Ray gasps. “Like- like a girl, Gee, please.”
Gerard hitches Ray’s hips up onto his thighs and shoves forward and ohshit that’s good. So good, Ray’s vision whites out for a second as Gerard slides so impossibly deep inside him, the thick shaft putting constant pressure on his prostate. There’s no way to escape the sensation as Gerard starts really fucking him but doesn’t pull out far enough for his prostate to get a respite.
“Your pussy feels so good, baby,” Gerard says, his voice low and dripping with sex, and it’s so fucking corny but it is really doing something for Ray.
He drags one of Ray’s legs up suddenly, shifting forward to get a better angle. Gerard’s frame looming over him along with the force of his thrusts makes Ray feel like he’s really getting fucked into the mattress, like he’ll fall straight through the bed if he doesn’t keep a tight grip on the sheets.
He reaches for his cock, painfully hard and overstimulated despite the fact that it’s barely been touched, and Gerard bats his hand away.
“Good girls come from getting fucked, sweet thing, not from playing with their little cocks.”
And fuck, Ray knows he’s not a girl, he knows his cock is far from little, but he feels something like an electric shock run up his spine at Gerard’s words. He feels like he’s floating, almost like an out-of-body experience; part of him is grounded by the pleasure that Gerard is giving him, but a different part of him is way up in the sky, surrounded by warmth and hazy light.
“Hey,” Gerard says, slowing down until he’s nearly stationary, barely rocking into Ray. Ray whines, and Gerard runs a soothing hand up his chest. “Talk to me. Are you good?”
“Good,” Ray breathes, his voice cracking. “Please, just- just keep fucking me, please, I just wanna…”
Gerard picks up the pace as Ray trails off, dragging a moan out of him that feels like it’s coming straight from his soul. “Wanna what?”
Ray opens his mouth, but all he can muster is a sob as Gerard shifts again, making sure to drive straight into Ray’s prostate on every thrust.
“Look at me,” Ray hears, and it’s an order. He can tell. On a normal day, he’d laugh in Gerard’s face. Instead, his eyes snap open immediately.
“Good girl,” Gerard praises, his hazel eyes shining in the late afternoon light, his face way too kind and gentle for the way he’s fucking Ray. “Tell me what you want.”
“Please,” Ray gasps, the praise and the new angle taking him back up into the sky again, turning his brain to mush. “Please, just- please.”
“Ray, come on.”
It’s just like that argument they had a few weeks ago when Ray couldn’t explain why he didn’t want to use the chord progression Gerard had come up with. It’s also the first time that Ray has heard his own name since he put the dress on, and hearing it from Gerard’s lips forces him back into his body. Like a curtain has been lifted between two planes of existence - yes, this is me, I am present.
I am laying here in a pretty black dress while my bandmate tells me that my pussy feels so good.
As the curtain rises, the dam breaks.
“Wanna be a good girl,” Ray sobs with all the air in his lungs, his eyes falling shut again. “Wanna be your good girl, Gee, wanna- fuck! Wanna please you, I- ugh, just fuck me, please.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Gerard whispers in obvious shock, his rhythm faltering and his grip on Ray’s hips tightening.
“You’re so good,” he continues. It’s louder now, like he’s recovered from Ray no doubt shocking the fuck out of him. “Such a good girl, baby, letting me use your pussy like this.”
Use. Yes. Ray is getting used, his cock untouched as Gerard, fully clothed, pistons in and out of him, his dress rucked up just enough for his lower half to be on display, forbidden from touching himself. He keens as Gerard drags the dress back down to cover his cock, the oversensitive head brushing against the cool satin with every thrust. It’s so good, so much, so fucking dirty with the way he can feel the evidence of his previous orgasm clinging to the fabric, and he suddenly becomes very aware that he’s not going to last much longer.
“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” Gerard hisses, leaning down to nip at his neck, his torso pressing against Ray’s cock and giving him the extra bit of friction he needs. “Let me feel it, baby, get me off, come on-” and he keeps talking, but Ray hears none of it as he slams into his orgasm like a brick wall.
He knows he’s crying - has been for a while now, probably - and he might be screaming a little bit, but Gerard doesn’t seem to be bothered. He fucks Ray through it fast and rough, not letting up for a second. Pure pleasure washes over him until Gerard bites down on his shoulder hard, adding the most perfect pain into the mix. The static in his ears fades just in time for him to faintly hear Gerard’s voice.
“So good, baby, such a good girl for me, gonna- ah, fuck, gonna come inside you, gonna get you fucking pregnant-” and that forces one last spurt of cum from Ray’s cock, one last body-shaking wave of his orgasm as Gerard’s cock starts to pulse inside him.
Ray clings to the high, feeling a little drunk on something as he watches Gerard ride out his own orgasm before he stills, panting, and gently pulls out. He feels a jolt of panic as he realizes that it’s over, he’s gonna have to be normal now and talk about what they just did, and fuck. He does not have an explanation for any of it.
His heart stops as Gerard stands up and moves toward the door. He shoots forward, sitting up and reaching out toward Gerard, not entirely sure what he’s reaching for.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Gerard exclaims, rushing back to the bed. “It’s okay, I was just getting you some clothes. Is that okay?”
Jesus. Embarrassment washes over Ray. Why does he have to be so fucking needy? And why does Gerard have to be so fucking nice right now?
“Yeah,” he whispers, rough and barely audible. He nods for good measure. “Yeah, that’s okay.”
Gerard eyes him skeptically, but gets up again anyway. “I’ll be quick.”
Ray’s not quite sure what to do. He’s never been in this position before - freshly fucked, cum on him and in him, emotionally bare, not quite sure what any of this means, left alone in the middle of a sweat- and lube-soaked bed.
This must be how his high school girlfriends felt. He feels a pang of sympathy for all of them.
True to his word, Gerard quickly returns with a damp rag, clean clothes, and water. Ray accepts the glass gratefully, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth is. Gerard takes it from him when he’s done, taking a sip before setting it on the nightstand and wordlessly prompting Ray to lift his arms.
Gerard takes the dress off gently, depositing it on the floor before bringing the rag to Ray’s stomach. It’s warm, and the pleasant feeling makes Ray release a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Gerard pulls the shirt over Ray’s head and lets him figure out how to get his still-limp arms through the holes while he drags a pair of boxers over Ray’s legs.
“Thanks,” Ray murmurs, awkwardly lifting his hips to help Gerard dress him. Gerard presses a chaste kiss to his knee.
“Are you freaking out?” he asks.
Ray tenses even though he should’ve expected it. He sometimes feels like he’s the only person in this band whose first inclination isn’t to immediately start poking the elephant in the room.
“A little,” he breathes.
“We don’t have to talk about it,” Gerard replies. Easy. Calm. As if Ray had just been playing guitar when he walked in, not two fingers deep in himself while palming his cock through a satin dress.
“We can if you want to,” Gerard continues when Ray doesn’t respond, settling into the bed and throwing an arm over him. “But we don’t have to. I’m not weirded out or anything.”
Ray nods. “I do, I just…I don’t even know why I wanted that.”
Gerard hums, rubbing a thumb over his bicep. It’s a comforting gesture.
“You don’t need to, like, rationalize everything.”
“I do, though,” Ray replies, offering Gerard a weak smile.
“Fine,” Gerard huffs, mock exasperated. “But do it later. You should take a nap or something.”
Hmm. Sleep does sound good right now. Ray’s been up since four this morning, and today has been spent in a never-ending rotation of writing and practicing and cooking and cleaning.
“Yeah, okay,” he breathes, letting his head fall to the side and rest on Gerard’s shoulder.
Gerard presses a kiss to the side of his head, and Ray is out before he can even think of anything to stress over.