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“Thank you, goodnight!” The words you’re waiting for, that drag you around backstage to wait at the foot of the stairs. Ray’s there too, and he flashes you his blinding grin; all energy and hope, so much better than your broken core but Gerard has never seemed to care. And he doesn’t, he walks down the stairs and falls directly into both of you and you feel his tears soak into your cardigan, tragic and unknowing.
He doesn’t turn to you first tonight, and you’re not jealous. You’re really not. Jamia’s back on the other side of the stage, probably holding Mikey and Kristin and Rowan and Kennedy and all your own children and that’s exactly where she wants to be, and you’re exactly where you want to be, making eye contact with Christa across her husband’s shoulder as he holds Gerard close, dropping kisses from his shoulderblade to his lips as a sweet reminder that he’s alive, that you’re alive, that everyone’s alive.
Gerard turns to you and you capture his lips and it’s endless night, you sink right into him. Your right hand crawls under his top while your left nudges him further, back, towards the edges of the world and where the light falls away, and Ray follows. He doesn’t always but maybe this show took more out of Gee tonight than you realized, maybe Ray always knows, even when you don’t. Out of the corner of your eye you watch Christa and Lindsey and Bandit, always the leader of the pack, and you know they’ll all link up with Mikey; for all he doesn’t want to hear about it he’s always understood exactly what his brother needs and how to get it for him, and there’s a haze in the air like smoke from a fire that makes everyone else disappear too soon, it’s just you and Gerard and Ray in the deepest of corners, the darkest of spots, the corner of a road case digging against your hip because Ray’s pushing you into it.
“Ow, fuck,” you mumble into his hair, and he laughs, turns, and kisses you. You make a small noise of protest—this isn’t about you, not right now, not yet—but Gee makes a soft happy noise of his own from behind you, kisses the top of your head and so you relax into Ray’s arms. Kissing Ray is nothing like kissing Gerard. Ray is decisive, bright and sweet, he doesn’t pull your hair but instead holds your face in his hand, wraps the other arm around to hold you as close as he can for comfort. Gerard kisses like he’s drowning but Ray kisses like a lifeline, and between them live your waves that can soothe or crash in equal measure. You can’t help but remember the first time, when Gee literally stumbled down the stairs and you raced behind the stage to find him in Ray’s arms kissing like his life depended on it, and you just walked up and wrapped your arms around them both. You’ve all talked about it since, of course, it’s been nearly two decades and it wouldn’t be Gerard without extensive conversations about ethical polyamory, but thinking back on the desperation and the love of that first time always brings warmth to your aching bones.
“Frankie?” Gerard’s wrapping his hands in your hair, concern writ across the lines of his face, and you shake your head and smile.
“Sorry. Just. Remembering,” you try to explain. You hadn’t even noticed when Ray and Gee moved around you, and now Ray’s sitting on the road case, Gerard leaning back into his arms with Ray’s head tucked on his shoulder—he was probably kissing Gee’s neck, you know how they love that. They both smile back, though, like they know exactly what you were remembering. You stand together, the three of you, breathing, trading kisses and touches, for what feels like forever but can’t be more than half an hour. In the early days it was more frantic, clothes flying everywhere—you kept supplies in your front pockets on stage back then, so Gee could shove you against the wall and fuck you while Ray fingered him, or Ray could suck him off and you left your trail of bruises up Gerard’s back and neck, or any of the other uncomfortable, desperate permutations it took to bring Gee back down to earth after the show, but he doesn’t need it like that anymore. The break up hurt you all in so many ways but it was good, too, the tragedy is all burned out and all that’s left is the fun and the joy. Which is exactly what you feel when it’s Jamia who rounds the corner, hand outstretched with a hotel keycard, and you have to tear yourself out of Ray’s arms to kiss her soundly.
“Everyone’s good?” Gerard asks from behind you, and Jamia leans over to kiss him and then Ray, brief, soft, sweet.
“Everyone’s good. We’ve got all the kids, and you can all make it up to us another night. Go.” You do.
Jamia (Lyn? Christa? Mikey, for all you know) did a good job, is your first thought when you walk into the room. In the earliest days, when it was just you and Gee with Jamia far away, it was all cheap motels and two double beds, fucking on one and passing out in the other before trying to get Gee in the shower the next morning. By the time Ray got involved, and later Lindsey, the hotels were better, but it was still quick hotel nights on rushed tours, and luxury wasn’t a priority in the face of going hard and going on forever. Things are so different now; this tour has been so different and you’re grateful for it, you know your broken body can’t stand up to that kind of abuse anymore and it’s only through the way things are now that any of this is even possible again, that you have this chance to watch Gee laugh as he flops down on the king bed still fully clothed with Ray falling in behind him, diving for his mouth with their legs tangled and hanging off the side of the bed. There’s a fresh wrist brace for you sitting on a side table, the note signed simply, xo, J. Ray and Gee stop making out to come help you, Ray working on your shoes while Gerard strips off your sweater and shirt and current brace.
“You don’t…I can handle it,” you protest, but it’s good, it’s always so good to be taken care of, and you know their feelings on the topic too, Gerard’s kiss coming in to stop you from protesting any further, helping tighten the brace and guiding you to the bed.
“We all take care of each other, and you know it.” Ray’s the one who takes the moment to pile everyone’s shoes out of the way, to make sure anything that anyone could trip on isn’t in any place that it could be tripped on, and puts all the phones in a cute little pile while he’s at it. It’s not really necessary anymore, you’re all more careful with your bodies and possessions these days, but just like Gee needs the focus when you first come off stage, Ray needs to make sure everything is safe. It’s his way of telling you he loves you, as much as the brace is Jamia’s, as much as the condoms and lube on the other table are surely Lyn and Christa’s. Gerard doesn’t have a way, not one made of things, not one made of actions—you just know, see it in his drawings, hear it in his words, feel it in his touches. He’s only ever had to be himself for you to know how much he loves you. “Fucking amazing tonight, wasn’t he Gee?” Gerard nods into your neck, fingers twisted in the loop of your jeans.
“You were, Frankie, just relax. You’re so, just, god,” he murmurs, licking a stripe up your neck. Ray finally falls in on his other side, tugging Gee’s top over his head, and you roll over and sit up ever so slightly to do the same for Ray. His skin is warm and soft underneath your fingers, and he leans over Gerard to kiss you, you can’t resist running your fingers through his hair, tugging some of it out of the ponytail and he laughs, they both laugh, there’s so much laughter all the time now. Gee finally, finally reaches for your belt, and you can feel the way he smirks when you gasp. “Wanna suck your cock, Frankie, please?” You stare.
“You—tour’s not over?”
“Oh,” he says, and the tone is let-down but his eyes are sparkling. “Well. I’m sure we can figure something out.” Ray Toro, fucking magic man that he is, has somehow teleported behind you during your staring contest with Gerard, and he’s got one of your bandages in his hands and he’s lifting your wrists together and oh, okay. You close your eyes and sigh, a sigh which quickly becomes a moan when you figure out the extent of their plan, when your clothes are all off and Ray has one hand on your wrists and the other around your belly, with one leg draped across yours so that his cock presses into the small of your back and you’re so firmly held in place that you can’t even squirm against him and oh, maybe, fuck, you look down at Gee and he’s grinning with the same mania he always shows on stage as he gently, too gently, sucks the tip of your cock into his mouth, and you reflexively buck against him before you even think about it—except you don’t, it worked, they’re fucking geniuses, and you sob in relief.
Confidence buoyed by the way that you’re entirely unable to fuck with his ability to sing for the next three days, he fucking goes at it, and it’s fucking everything. You close your eyes and focus on the sensations, on his tongue running up and down the underside, his lips trailing kisses and teeth digging bruises into your thighs. You are absolutely not focused on the way Ray’s fingers tap on those spots-that-will-bruise or how hard he is at your back or when he squeezes your wrists every time Gerard swallows you down, because to focus on those sensations too would just, it would just be, you just can’t, this is a gift they’re giving you and you want to savor as much of it as humanly fucking possible. You open your eyes and look down and realize quickly your mistake, because Gerard around your cock like this is so goddamn hot that your wrists ache from straining against Ray, trying desperately to get your hands into his hair, to thumb at those dark red lips, to push and push and push but you can’t and you’re crying, sobbing and he stops, wraps his hand around you and comes up to lick away your tears and shove his tongue in your mouth while he jerks you off and you just can’t take it anymore, you start to mumble nonsense under your breath and he works even faster and Ray lets go of your hips so you can fuck into his hand and it’s everything and nothing and black, white, black.
When you can move around again your hands are unbound, Gee and Ray sloppily kissing beside you and a glass of water on the table where it wasn’t before. You down the whole thing before turning to kiss the back of Gee’s neck, fingertips ghosting at his shoulder.
“You okay?” he asks into Ray’s mouth, it’s only the years that allow you to understand what he said at all, and you nod into his skin. He turns, then, holds your face in both his hands as though unsure of the truth, needing to verify for himself. “You need to sleep, babe?” You could. You might, if it weren’t for the way he’s hot and hard against your leg, you know it’s super unlikely that you’ll be able to go again, not tonight, but that doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy the show and it doesn’t make you any less a willing participant. You rest your hand on his waist and pull him in for a hug.
“M’good, Gee,” you reassure him. “You two just be pretty for me, yeah?” He grins and kisses you softly, you take the opportunity to lightly run your fingers down his back, around his curves and the muscles in his thighs, not-touching his cock, and when he swallows hard into your mouth you push him over and reach to stroke the side of Ray’s face too before flopping on your back. Ray, all sweetness, twists his fingers in yours for just a moment as he sits above Gerard, looks at the lube, then looks back at Gee. You know exactly the conversation they’re having, both with eyes blown wide, Gee’s lips still dark and when Ray does eventually grab the lube any remaining tension drops from Gerard’s form like paper in the rain. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, hold his hand as Ray coats his fingers and slowly pushes in with the first one. Achingly slowly, you know from experience, Ray loves it slow and sweet and agonizing and Gee’s breathing picks up and so does yours, what can you say, they’re beautiful like this. This is a song you know as well as anything you’ve played on stage this tour, maybe even better than some of the ones you’ve played on stage this tour—the song of Ray murmuring sweet nothings to Gerard, keeping him present, beautiful, love you, ready for more, so perfect while you kiss and suck and bite at his neck and shoulders and chest, fingers locked together so tightly it could hurt if it didn’t. He’s three fingers in when Gee starts growling, begging to be fucked, and Ray’s eyes are so heavy and dark when they meet yours that you almost start begging for it too.
You don’t know how Ray makes putting a condom on so hot, but he’s been doing it for years and it takes your breath away every single time, maybe something about his long fingers or the way his hair falls down around his face while he concentrates. You let out a noise of surprise when the first thing he does after is lean over and kiss you, deep, biting your lower lip hard enough that it still stings when he moves away and lines up for Gerard, and you were trying to focus on him but the fingers that aren’t trapped between his unconsciously come up to touch your lip, grinning. Ray’s so hot when he gets aggressive. Your distraction doesn’t last; Gerard whines low and slow in time with the speed, the lack thereof, that Ray uses to push inside him and you love that sound but you know what he loves even more so you hook two fingers over his lips and he swallows you down, licking and sucking like he was your dick not that long ago, and you’re not all the way hard again just yet but can’t stop yourself from grinding into his side. Ray picks a pace and Gee moans around your fingers in time with it and all three of you move together like a steady beat. It’s your turn for the whispers, you bite at Gerard’s ear as you tell him how perfect he is, how gorgeous he looks taking you and Ray, his cock so dark red against pale skin that you finally untangle cramped fingers and move to stroke him but Ray bats your hand away wordlessly, mouths ‘touch yourself’ at you and wow, okay, you’re on his wavelength then and you do, hooking a leg around the back of Ray’s thighs and watching his eyes roll back in his head.
Before long Ray’s the one falling to Gee’s other side and it’s your turn, rolling on another condom as quick as you can and then slipping inside Gee effortlessly, he’s so wet and warm and perfect that you know you won’t last too long, that this can’t last too long because if you know him at all Gerard’s due to come untouched or pass out and you’d hate to see it be either. “Fuck, Gee, baby, touch yourself, come on, baby, love you,” the words are meaningless, the words mean everything, you lean down, trapping his hand and his cock in the heat between your chests, and then you bite his shoulder way-too-hard and that’s all it takes to push him over the edge and you dive off the cliff right behind him in a mess of sweat and slick and stars.
Ray’s the first to recover, he always is when it’s the three of you—it’s never been six but you can build it in your mind, the girls are always the ones to make everyone get cleaned up when they’re here but they’re not, which means nobody’s showering tonight and nobody cares. He leans up on his elbows but then flops back down, and you breathe out a soft chuckle. He glares but there’s no heat in it, only affection. “Don’t see you getting up either?” He raises an eyebrow and you laugh for real this time.
“Love you,” is all you have to say before he’s rolling off the bed groaning. Ray completes you and Gee, you think, kissing his shoulder while he pretends to be asleep. You’re not fooled and neither is Ray, which is why you’re out of the way and cackling when a washcloth lands with a smack directly on Gee’s face and he jumps up. You take the one Ray holds out for you and smile sweetly at Gerard’s dirty look, but once you’re clean enough you roll under the covers and kiss his shoulder and he relaxes again. “Anything from the girls?” you ask of Ray, still standing, and he walks over to check his phone while Gee gets in the blankets with you.
“If we aren’t showered and downstairs by ten, Lyn and J are taking over the band.”
“Lyn’s been making that threat for months, she won’t do it, we have until at least noon,” Gerard mumbles, and you and Ray share the soft smile of knowing both that Lindsey will be in the room at ten on the dot to get Gee out of bed, and that neither of you are going to remind him of that right now. No, right now is for Ray to turn out the lights and slide into bed with you and Gee, for him to lay an arm around Gerard and you to curl your fingers up with his, and for you all to get your well deserved rest. Touring’s exhausting, fucking’s exhausting, and you wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.