"hey, frank, what happened? are you okay? i'm sorry if you – "

"shut up," frank replies. he feels the coldness gasp at his skull, "i know you're worried about me. and i'm sorry for ditching."

"why did you do it then?"

"doesn't matter," frank sniffles, taking a drag and puffing the smoke out into his car, "i'm coming over. i'm horny. and i don't want to be friends. but you're a good fuck."

"uh, okay."

"unless whoever you were fucking isn't gone."

"patrick left a few minutes ago."

"patrick?"

"yeah, he's been a sub of mine for a while. nothing more, though." gerard replies, clearing his throat as casual as it gets, "do you know how to get here?"

"yeah. bye."

frank hangs up before gerard can reply. the bar was a few hours ago. it's about eleven but he doesn't really care. he can't find the will to care about anything right now besides getting fucked. or feeling something. maybe that's an excuse for some deeper feeling inside of himself but he's always found shrinks agonizing and he's never liked being analyzed. he doesn't like the idea of someone being inside of his head, and he hates the idea of anyone caring about him enough to try. that's why gerard pissed him off so much on that one night. that's why he had screamed at him. it was unnecessary. he was a stranger, and frank was just some lousy, greasy, sub who couldn't find the will to get out of the house no matter how hard he tries. he hates that he went off on him, he does. but he was pissed. he hates people who play the sympathy card because there's nothing to be sympathetic about.

he's a middle aged white bisexual man who probably has severe depression or some shit and makes up for it through sex and cigarettes. specifically post-sex cigarettes. frank loves those the most.

he's brought back when he sees the clock strike eleven-ten and he immediately starts up his car and drives up to gerard's apartment complex. he remembers clearly that it was about three down from the entrance, ground level. a27. frank's eyes are glazed over when he approaches the white door and takes in his surroundings. there's a window, covered with black shades and the door handle is smooth and silver. there's a skull resting on a table, styrofoam but decorated realistically and he wonders why he came here. he shouldn't invest his time into someone who has another person in his life. he wonders if gerard is cheating or if the so-called 'patrick' is okay with him being with other people. frank's always been the polyamorous type, as long as he trusts everyone. but he knows that doesn't apply here and it never will. gerard isn't his dom. he's a fuck. maybe he'll come back a few more times after this, but ultimately, he'll forget. and gerard won't matter to him just like everyone else who's ever been in his life. frank hates the idea of friends. life's too fucking short for people to have unreasonable attachments to people that will ultimately end in death or a break-off. fun moments don't last, but grief does. that's something that frank will always live by. always.

gerard is nothing more than a fuck. someone to hold him down and tell him how pathetic he is because he's tired of saying it to himself.

frank knocks. he loses track of how long he stands at the door for, but when he checks his phone right after, he realizes four minutes had passed. not long, but definitely too long to hesitate at a fucking door for.

gerard answers, opens the door and smiles softly when he sees frank, "hey, good to see you."

"hi."

frank enters, gerard closes the door behind him and he says, slightly unprepared, "i wasn't sure what you wanted, rough or soft. but i thought maybe we could go a little softer this time, we had a dent in the wall last time."

"that's fine," frank says, admiring the room that he hadn't been able to before, "what did you have in mind?

"uhh, i filled up a bowl with some ice cubes... if that's okay with you. if not, we can do something else, i have toys and i'm very much open for suggestions." gerard replies, frank senses that he's trying to analyze frank, his mental health, his physical health. frank grimaces.

"that's fine."

"are you feeling okay?" gerard blurts. he didn't mean to. frank inhales deeply, trying to control his temper, then replies, "just... don't bring it up. please. i know you care. but i don't, alright? this is a fuck, nothing more. you got that?"

gerard nods, "you can lie on the bed, i'll get everything."

frank obeys, taking a seat on the bed and kicking off his shoes before lying back. he gazes at the decorations, lots of white, some black here and there, but mostly white. he notices a picture on his bedside table. a man with a gray beanie and brown hair and glasses and frank wonders who he is. probably another sub. he remembers seeing patrick leave the apartment and drive away. blond hair. a collar. he remembers the collar well.

gerard returns with rope and the bowl of ice and frank is quick to take off his shirt and pants. before he can get to his boxers, though, gerard grabs his wrists and ties them to the headboard again and frank leans back when a blindfold covers his eyes, "safeword?"

"chocolate."

"are you okay?"

"yeah." frank grimaces. gerard presses a thumb to his lips and frank takes it in as the first ice cube rests on his lower chest, between his stomach and his chest. frank inhales, biting his lip, unsure of where it'll go, unsure of how it'll move. he can tell gerard has two fingers on it, though. frank takes in a deep breath as it moves up towards his neck, where gerard's thumb pulls out and instead rests on frank's throat where frank immediately moans and leans into it. gerard chuckles, deep and husky and frank feels it in his bones when he leans down, "do you wanna be choked, pretty boy?"

frank nods, "yes, please, please."

the ice cube circles one nipple and frank whines, arching up into it, at how cold it is and how it turns him numb. he loves it, he loves it so fucking much and he shivers when gerard blows air into it, turning it hard.

"sir, ple—" frank can't get the rest of the plea out before the entirety of gerard's hand catches frank's throat and frank pants, tension surrounding the room. the ice cube still wanders, almost melted as it travels up frank's throat and stops in his mouth, "suck on it."

frank does, he does to feel anything painful and that's when gerard finally pushes down and frank's eyes roll back. he doesn't dare say a word as the next ice cube comes out and starts on the same spot, then travels up to the other nipple, surround it. frank gurgles as gerard presses down slightly harder, eyes rolled back under the blindfold. frank's lungs draw up, his ribs cave in, but despite his body telling him it's starting to get bad, he takes it anyways. to please gerard. to get any sort of gratitude out of him. maybe he'll get praise. he hopes he will at least.

the ice cube wanders across both of his nipples, and gerard blows through it all, making his entire chest freeze, and it's fucking uncomfortably cold, but frank loves it anyways. he moans out what he can, arches his back and draws up knees. the ice cube in his mouth is long melted when the next one, much bigger arrives, and gerard lets go of his throat. frank gasps, swallowing down the left over water as his legs are forced down and gerard begins tying rope. and frank's heart begins racing. maybe it's because he doesn't like benign exposed. he hates it. and he knows that he's been in the same position since the beginning of the scene but being forced to be open, unable to hide, unable to pull up. that's terrifying. that's fucking horrible and frank's chest seizes up.

"don't," he tries, "please, i can't do that.  i don't... i don't like being open."

"aren't you already?" gerard questions.

"it's different," frank hisses back, "i just. can't."

gerard drops the rope from his legs and instead lets his hand wander up frank's thighs, shuffling around the tray. frank sighs, swallowing down the last of his ice cube as gerard places the new one on frank's lower stomach, just beside where his cock rests, soft.

"choke me again, sir?" frank asks, "please?"

"you like that, don't you?" gerard comments, "why?"

"doesn't matter." frank replies. because he really isn't sure why. he guesses it's because he likes the idea of being close to death, even if death isn't as close as he likes to imagine.

"tell me or i won't do it," gerard threatens, moving the ice cube to frank's inner thighs, frank moans, biting his lip.

"i genuinely don't know. it makes me horny. hot and bothered. why else would i like it?"

"do you just like being hurt, frank?" gerard asks, and those words ring out for hours inside of frank's mind. because deep down, somewhere inside him he knows it's the truth. he knows it's the only reason he ever goes out to clubs. it's the only reason he met up with gerard today. to get hurt. to feel something, anything. it doesn't bring him pleasure. it never fucking has. and that's the only reason everyone there likes it so much. this is a thing for masochists and sadists. for submissives and dominants. and frank is not a masochist. he is a sadist who loves to see himself suffer most. and that is something he will never truly get over.

gerard awaits an answer. frank bites his tongue, and the ice is gone, back into the bowl, and gerard begins to lift the blindfold, but frank cries out, trying so hard to mask it all in a, "yes, i love to get hurt. gerard, please. i do. i really fucking do. just like every other masochist, please just... please keep on going, gerard. please?"

gerard is silent for a moment and frank would kill to see his expression, but soon enough he feels the hand around his throat and it squeezes down and frank's hips buckle and he leans up into it, begging it to be tighter, but he earns himself a firm slap and frank groans.

"i'm going to untie you. and i'm going to choke you. but you are going to put the ice where i tell you, is that understood, frank?"

"yes, sir."

gerard is pleased, he unties one hand of frank's and places an ice cube in his hand just after tugging down his boxers, "put it on your inner thighs." frank is quick to oblige, his lungs are beginning to yelp, but he does it anyways massaging it over his inner thighs, placing them dangerously close to his cock, even though it's soft. he knows why and he doesn't want to admit it.

frank grips the ice cube as gerard pushes down harder and frank strains for anything, trying to gasp through airless breaths, he stays under. he stays under because gerard wants him to and he wants to prove that he's okay and that he isn't broken. that he isn't broken. broken.

"up your stomach, then over your cock, real fast," gerard says, pulling his hands away. frank gasps, coughing for air, dizzy. he feels light headed. more than he thought he would, and he wishes he could feel it more, so he nuzzles into gerard, desperate for more, but the dom only says back, "you need oxygen, at least for a little longer."

frank nods, sighing, shutting his eyes as his fingers slip the ice over his length a few times. he groans at how cold it is and how it almost hurts in a way, but gerard tells him to keep it on.

frank whimpers, rubbing it up and down, feeling himself finally begin to stir, and he groans at the feeling, especially more so when gerard takes the cube and presses it between frank's lips, taking his cock into warm hands, "do you want to get off?"

frank nods, shaking slightly, unsure of what to say, gerard rests his hand on frank's throat, and frank groans, pushing against it, desperate for more, and gerard gives, choking him down as his spare hand brings frank's to his cock and he begins jerking himself off, legs shaking. he isn't sure if it's from the cold of the ice or just needing to cum, but he's shaking. and gerard loves it.

"i'll be back, you keep pumping, alright?"

frank nods, sucking hard on the ice cube in his mouth as the room shakes when gerard leaves. he returns soon after, though. frank isn't sure with what, but when he feels something smooth on his cock, he whines out, arching his hips off the bed.

"beg for it like a good slut," gerard bites.

"oh fuck, sir," frank tries, "i-i need it, please, i've been so good. i-i touched myself how you wanted and i even had the ice, and–"

he's cut off when gerard shoves down his neck again and the vibrator turns on, massaging the head of frank's prick. frank is quick to cry out, legs shaking hard already. gerard brings it all the way up and all the way down, and he watches frank carefully the entire time, watches how his back arches, his his teeth catch his lip, how he whines when he reaches the very base, and it's only when he digs it into the top does frank cry out, his entire body trembling. gerard releases his hand, grabs another ice cube and places it so it follows the vibe across his cock, and when he blows cold air on it, frank sobs out, overstimulated already.

"i-i fuck, gerard, fuck, fuck, sir, i–"

"shh," gerard hushes, "cum when you need to."

frank cries when he does just a few moments after, tears escaping his eyes, his entire body shuddering as he cums harder than he has in months and gerard pulls off the vibe so he isn't sensitive. he places the ice back into the bowl and turns off the vibrator and sets it aside and milks what he can from frank's cock as he finishes off. frank is crying, though, genuinely crying, and gerard's heart sinks, "are you okay? frank?"

"i'm-" frank releases a belated breath, looking up as he tries to wipe teardrops from his cheeks, "i'm fine. i-i..."

he stops, taking in deep breaths as gerard unties the rest of the rope on frank, "i should go."

"stay," gerard asks, frank stops, "please?"

"i should get home."

"are you doing anything tomorrow?" gerard replies.

"i..." frank avoids his gaze, "i guess not..."

"then stay. please."

frank lowers his eyes, considers it. he doesn't want to. not with gerard. but he's tired. and he knows that he'll only be depressed if he goes back.

"okay."

"okay?"

"yeah... i'll... i'll stay."