"Are- Sir, I mean..." Frank sighed and dropped his hand somewhat as he stared down at Gerard's blonde scalp, flexing his black-gloved hand around the thin brush "Are you sure about this?"

"About the color or whom I've chosen to apply it?" Gerard asked as he crossed one leg over and looked at Frank in the small hand mirror with a reassuring smile and the subtlest wink, "Because I am rather certain of both of my choices, as it were."

"But what if I mess up? Then your hair will be fucked for who knows how long? What about public image and all that? This is a bit of a fucking gamble, isn't it?"

"Our entire relationship is a game of roulette, is it not?" Gerard countered with a dismissive wave of his hand as Frank carefully stirred the orange goop in the small black bowl in his hand, "Believe me, my hair is in perfect hands."

"Fine." Frank gave the slowly-developing mixture one more stir before he scooped some of it up and brushed it down the middle parting of Gerard's hair.

"I can see your natural hair color." Frank commented as he spied some of the light chestnut-orange color growing at his Master's roots, "It's nice."

"I suppose, perhaps it is." Gerard looked at Frank in the mirror again and smiled, "Although I much prefer this shade. My hair is a weird concoction of a brown and ginger shade. Not quite brunette but not quite a full ginger. So I much prefer to dye my hair orange and pick it as my hair color. It was pretty vivid when I was born."

"At least then the carpet matches the drapes," Frank grinned and then snorted, "Except my Master doesn't have pubic hair. Or... Much body hair, actually."

"Is that a problem? Are you into hairy men, my boy?"

Frank snorts, "Please. My ex was Jewish and notoriously hairy despite being so well groomed. He hated his body hair and waxed and lasered whatever he didn't like. I'm not a huge fan of it. But again, I don't really care. As long as your body hair doesn't shed like a German Shepherd then we're okay."

Gerard's body shook with silent laughter as he typed a quick text on his phone and set it down again, "Well, lucky me."

"I love the orange, sir." Frank murmured as he smeared the bright vermilion miasma over Gerard's blond hair before working it in with his fingers. He moved the evenly coated piece aside and repeated the process, humming to himself what sounded like a very static version of an old Smashing Pumpkins song.

"You like the Pumpkins?" Gerard asked airily, "I pegged you more as a punk-related Sonic Youth boy than a Corgan fan."

"I- I..." Frank's fluttered and he swallowed, "I forget that you know shit about music sometimes. I never hear you listen to anything."

"I get a bit busy and focused lately but I used to live in my tapes and vinyls when I was your age. Ty and I were always at small concerts and saving up for some obscure band's album. But he stopped going when his germaphobia and agoraphobia spun him into a tightly knit cocoon."

"Agoraphobia, sir?"

"The fear of places or situations that cause panic. Places where the person has no control over things. A lot of people misperceive it as only being afraid of the outdoors. It could be anywhere where Ty, for example, has no control over the environment or the people there. He does all his shopping online and only goes to places that he knows with people he trusts or can control. Which is why he can visit us."

Frank blinked in surprise, "What about work and just... Socializing? Doesn't he go to parties or clubs?"

"It's a complex thing for him. He cannot set foot in a shopping mall or somewhere wide open, for example. But he can walk into a bondage party packed with people. Because he is in charge. He's so intimidating to most people that he's automatically the alpha male. In a bondage party, he knows the rules and he knows that there's a semblance of control over what's going on. And the people there all have respect for one another and the lifestyle. And he only goes to elite and private clubs in town where you have to know someone who knows someone to get in."

"That sounds like hell." Frank whispered softly as he stirred the steadily-darkening formula around to apply it to his Master's roots behind his ear.

"Add it to the fear of germs and sickness and you'll understand why he's quite content with never leaving his own house." Gerard sighed softly, "I digress. Where were we, boy? We were discussing my music taste, were we not?"

"You bring into the same music I am? I just... I don't see it." Frank worked his hands systematically through his Master's locks, "What would your favorite band be, sir?"

"Funnily enough I still hold a soft spot for my youth and the music I listened to then." Gerard chuckled merrily, "Despite my respite of usually listening to classical music, I loved Nine Inch Nails, Iggy Pop, and Smashing Pumpkins. But then again, I also liked Talking Heads, Chili Peppers, and The Stones. It varies but I can't deny the good old days of proper music that physically hurt your ears and made your veins thrum as a good thrashing would."

"But your favourite band...?" Frank questioned a second time, biting his lip as he dolloped more of the dye onto Gerard's head and began to massage it in.

"I'd have to give it to the Beatles, mind you. Fine Young Cannibals and Guns 'n Roses being a close second. And I do have a rather soft spot for David Bowie and Fiona Apple."

"Interesting, sir." Frank smiled, running the orange dye over the sides of Gerard's hair slowly along his hairline, "I approve."

"And yours, my boy?"

"Favourite is definitely Korn. And then I think..." He frowned, "The Misfits and Dead Kennedys."

"I met him, y'know? Jello Biafra," Gerard smiled slightly as he replied from a text from his wife, "Very intelligent man."

Frank sputtered, almost dropping the somewhat-empty bowl in his hands as his eyes widened and he stared at the side of his Master's smug face, "You- Wh-What?"

"In my first year in Congress." Gerard continued as he closed the towel around his shoulders and swapped one leg over the other, sitting up in the chair in his large expanse of a bathroom.

Frank set the bowl down in the white porcelain sink and pulled off his gloves with an echoing rubber snap. He grabbed a wet face cloth and began swiping over some of the spots of dye that looked far too messy, "How did you manage to get that right?"

"I was sitting at a cafe one day having breakfast and working on my speech when they asked me to move to a different table. I kicked up a fuss, being as comfortable and set up as I was, and demanded to see who it was who so brazenly was kicking me from my seat, and there he was. He was so impressed by my tenacity that he offered for me to join him, and we spent the rest of the morning discussing politics and anything else that came to mind. He tried to get into politics on more than one occasion, actually. He ran for mayor of San Francisco in 1979 and actually came fourth out of ten candidates. And then tried to run for President in 2000, I believe. Except Nader won the nomination."

"Holy shit." Frank whispered softly as he ran the rag under water and wrung it out, "That's singlehandedly the best story I've ever heard. And that includes me breaking Ryan's nose on a movie date."

"I beg your pardon, boy?"

"I...." Frank trailed off, scowling at himself and cursing internally, "It was our second or third date and I tried to pull 'the move' and went too far into it as he went forward to grab his popcorn and I elbowed him in the nose."

"Of course you did." Gerard seemed way too amused and enamored with the idea as Frank cleaned up, "Now while this all sets, why don't you fix my hands for me?"

"You know I'd never say no to touching your hands, sir." Frank smiled as a soft blush tinted his cheeks. Gerard got up from the chair and smiled, noting how Frank was still staring at his hands for far too long, biting his lip.

"Where would you prefer to work?"

"Wherever Lindsey won't kill me," Frank admitted sheepishly as he walked out of the bathroom and into Gerard's bedroom behind his Master.

"A solid work surface would be best. The dining room table should suffice, I think." Gerard replied as he shed the towel from his shoulders and hung it on a hook on the bathroom door, "You collect what you need and I'll meet you there."

"Yes, sir." Frank replied as he watched Gerard walk out of his bedroom and disappear into the hall. Frank took a moment, sucking in a breath as he rubbed a spot of orange stain on his wrist before he walked to Gerard's chest of drawers. He grabbed what he needed, including his tools and another small towel from the bathroom, tucking it under his arm before he descended the stairs.

Frank walked to the dining room where Gerard sat patiently at the table, hands clasped in a perfect tented form, eyes on his submissive.

"I got you a bowl of warm water in the meantime." Gerard gestured to the glass dish that had steam curling from it. Frank uttered a soft 'thank you, sir' as he set everything down, laying a towel before he spread out the tools he needed and sat across from his Master. He leaned over the table with his knees on the chair like last time.Frank took Gerard's hands in his and lowered them into the water to soak, smiling as Gerard's skin submerged in the water. He drew soft traces over his Master's visible veins with his fingertips.

"How long am I sitting like this, my prince?" Gerard asked simply despite knowing the answer considering he had shown Frank how to do this more than once.

"Several minutes, Master." Frank replied, still tracing over the light bluish-purple tracks, "Ten perhaps?"

"Alright." Gerard nodded approvingly, "Since we have time to spare, tell me something, boy?"

"What would you like to know, sir?" Frank looked up with a curious smile at Gerard, and his slicked back hair, who was frowning back in thought.

"What hobbies have you had? Things that you enjoy or used to that you've perhaps dwindled in doing since."

"Well, I used to love photography and writing, which is why I joined the newspaper. I liked cooking before Ryan ruined it for me. As a kid, I enjoyed building and painting model airplanes and comic books." Frank shrugged, "At one point I was really into collecting coins, too. My grandfather started a coin collection from when he was my age and had so many and I used to help him clean them and stuff."

"Fascinating." Gerard smiled, "Did you like to read?"

"Love it." Frank smiled, "But not all the time. I have to be in the right mood."

"What do you like to read? Besides comic books, as it were." Gerard chuckled as he turned his hands over a couple times in the water and rested them palms up.

"I loved crime books and biographies at one point. My dad was fully Italian, my mom is half Japanese and half Italian-American so I grew up watching Goodfellas and shit, right? And I was fascinated with gangsters and the mob. I once did a presentation on Lucky Luciano for school and I got an A for it but my mom also got a call from my teacher asking if I was okay," Frank smiled and laughed lightly, "But I also love science fiction nonsense like Goosebumps and Animorphs and shit. I used to religiously read Goosebumps from the library every summer."

"I enjoyed Goosebumps as well." Gerard commented and nodded, "But also poetry and old soppy works. All of the gothic stuff that makes you sad and wish you were running in slow motion through the halls of an abandoned dark castle."

"You like Poe?" Frank looked up with a smile as he took Gerard's hands in his and dried them off on a towel before he picked up a small brush and began scrubbing his Master's nails.

"Naturally. How much of his work do you know, boy?"

"We studied him in school in my senior year and I remember a lot but I'm shit with remembering the names of the stories." Frank admitted as he moved from one hand to the other, scrubbing Gerard's nails firmly.

"What were they about?" Gerard pried curiously, "I know Poe inside and out."

"Well, I remember 'The Raven' was a favorite of mine." Frank smiled, "That's the only title I remember. But the other I really enjoyed was about this guy who tries to convince the reader that he's sane but he's talking about a murder he committed."

"'The Tell-Tale Heart'." Gerard smiled as Frank picked up a long metal tool and began to gently clean underneath his Master's nails despite knowing they were usually in pristine condition; he liked to be thorough. Gerard raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow, "An interesting work, I will admit."

"What about you, sir?" Frank looked up for a split second at his Master before he continued cleaning, "Which of Poe's works do you enjoy most?"

"It's a simultaneous toss-up between two." Gerard inspected his hand once Frank had finished it, "Between 'The Black Cat' and... 'The Murders in the Rue Morgue'."

"I don't remember those." Frank admitted as he scraped under Gerard's thumb carefully before setting the tool down. He rinsed Gerard's hands in the water again, washing his hands with a pink bar of soap that smelled faintly like roses.

"The 'Rue Morgue' is a detective story, one of the first-ever published in fact," Gerard dried his hands again as Frank picked up the nail clippers and took one of Gerard's hands in his, "Poe referred to this story as one of his tales of ratiocination. About a man in Paris who solves the mystery of the brutal murder of two women. It's very interesting."

"It sounds cool." Frank smiled as he carefully clipped Gerard's nails over the towel, snipping them down to the length he knew his Master preferred, "And the other one?"

"'The Black Cat' is usually used in a study of guilt much like your Tell-Tale Heart. In both, a murderer carefully conceals their crime and believes themselves unassailable, but eventually breaks down and reveals themselves, impelled by a nagging reminder of guilt. 'The Black Cat' is about a condemned man who, from an early age, loved animals. He and his wife own many pets including a black cat named Pluto. The narrator kills the animal and his house catches fire afterward."

"That's fucked up." Frank gasped, looking up in horror, "Why the f-"

"He was a drinker." Gerard nodded as Frank continued to clip, frowning in concentration as he held Gerard's hand close to his face, "But when he returned that night to inspect his house, there was an imprint of a black cat in the wall of the house. And so on he is haunted by a cat wherever he goes and starts to fear the creature. He tries to kill it and instead kills his wife."

"Jesus Christ," Frank muttered softly as he moved on to Gerard's left hand, clipping the nails slowly and meticulously as his brain conjured up images in his head of some old drunkard.

"He tries to hide her body in the wall of their cellar and days later when he's investigated, they find nothing and he is let free. As well as the cat he kept seeing, also missing. But the police end up finding her body when the cat starts screaming from inside the wall where it's sitting on top of her body."

"Whoa..." Frank muttered softly and looked up, "That's super creepy."

"Naturally." Gerard smiled, "He had walled the cat but it somehow survived."

"Ew." Frank chuckled as he inspected Gerard's left hand with a smile and set them down in front of him.

"Absolutely abhorrent." Gerard nodded gravely, "That's usually the theme with Poe."

"Thoughts on Shakespeare?" Frank asked as he picked up a small blue bottle of cuticle remover and a cotton swab, pouring the gel onto the end before he ran the small white swab over Gerard's nail beds.

"Shakespeare is hit and miss for me. His work has definite merit but, my lord, the man knew not of English and it sometimes annoys me."

Frank let out a small chuckle at his Master's small annoyance as he rubbed the gel into Gerard's cuticles with his fingers, "I always preferred his sonnets to his full play works."

"One of your best decisions besides dating me, I must say." Gerard mused with a bright smile as Frank bit his lip, stifling another loud and sheepish guffaw as he grabbed the silver cuticle pusher, "Any particular favorites? And, my boy, if you mention 'shall I compare thee to a summer's day', I will have to flog you."

"Threat or promise?" Frank grinned up at his Master as he began pushing Gerard's cuticles back gently, grabbing each finger between his own as Gerard eyed him wickedly.

"Don't tempt me." Gerard sighed, "Any favorites?"

"What are yours?" Frank retorted, "I like hearing what your thoughts are in a way. Like, what you deem a favorite."

"Sonnet One-five-one." Gerard replied, "Love is too young to know what conscience is."

"How does it go?" Frank looked up curiously, "I haven't heard that one before."

"You expect me to know an entire sonnet randomly by heart, Frank?" Gerard eyed his submissive dubiously with a raised eyebrow, "You think so highly of me, one day I feel like I'll never be good enough for the pedestal you raise me so highly upon, boy."

"You won't get pushed off of that pedestal just because you don't know a sonnet." Frank snorted as he put the tool down, "Hell, I don't even know my own phone number most days."

"Well, what if I did know it?" Gerard asked then as Frank picked up a small glass file and took Gerard's hand. He began filing down and smoothing the rough edges into perfect rounds that swept parallel to Gerard's fingertips.

"Do you?" Frank looked up and saw Gerard smiling at him knowingly, "Of course you do."

"Of course I do." Gerard mimicked softly, "'Love is too young to know what conscience is; Yet who knows not conscience is born of love? Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss, Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove'."

Frank frowned as he continued to file each of Gerard's fingers, frowning as he felt the poem speaking directly to himself even though he wouldn't admit it, letting his Master continue,

"'For, tho betraying me, I do betray My nobler part to my gross body's treason; My soul doth tell my body that he may Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason; But rising at thy name, doth point out thee As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride, He is contented thy poor drudge to be, To stand n thy affairs, fall by thy side. No want of conscience hold it that I call Her love for whose dear love I rise and fall'." Gerard repeated perfectly as Frank went on to his other hand and kept filing obediently.

"What's it about?" Frank asked thickly, pretending to play stupid despite knowing that he knew all too well what it was, in fact, about.

"The sonnet is about a woman who finds herself guilty of infidelity, whereas the narrator's own sin is to betray himself by allowing his body rather than his soul to steer his actions. It's about how the man uses what's in his pants to guide him rather than anything else, giving in to his desires despite thinking he's in love. Hell, the man refers to his own erection as 'rising' and as a 'nobler part' of himself, of course, with which I can at least identify."

Frank couldn't help the childish giggle that left him at his Master's less than honorable admission. Snickering as he began buffering his Master's nails with the large square of polishing foam, "Oh, come on."

"Am I wrong?" Gerard looked at Frank with a cocky head and Frank paused his actions, resting his hand on the table as he thought about his answer.

"Honestly, I don't think your cock is nobler than you, sir. If anything it's completely abhorrent in comparison. Have you seen some of the things it's put me through? I hardly consider that to be noble."

"A very fair point." Gerard hummed as Frank returned to smoothing his Master's nails one by one, "Alright, perhaps not as noble as I thought."

"Definitely not, sir."

"Returning from the gutter-esque conversation..." Gerard pulled Frank's mind out of a sordid hole, "Any sonnets?"

"I liked Dr. Seuss." Frank looked up with an innocent smile, "Not a sonnet but it does count as poetry, even if it's childish."

Gerard piqued an eyebrow again, chuckling at his submissive as the latter set the buffering sponge down, "There's nothing wrong with Seuss. He was highly intelligent, a bit daft perhaps."

"Completely whack." Frank snorted as he picked up a bottle of hand lotion and opened it, squirting some of the white liniment into his palm. He ran it over his palms before he took each of Gerard's hands and rubbed the moisturizer into his pale skin.

"He was a wise man, though, boy." Gerard replied sternly.

"How so?" Frank asked as he repeated the action with Gerard's other hand slowly before he massaged them both with firm but slow circles in a way he knew Gerard liked.

"'You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes, you can steer yourself in any direction you choose'." Gerard stated simply as Frank let go of his hands and looked at him in surprise.

"He said that?" Frank's eyebrows rose, "Wow."

"If that's not inspirational then I don't know how to help you, boy." Gerard smiled a tad as he rubbed the extra lotion into his hands before inspecting his submissive's work.

"So?" Frank sat back on his chair, ignoring the ache in his knees as he waited for the verdict.

"Perfect, my boy. Very well done." Gerard looked up, "How's the dye looking?"

Frank looked up at Gerard's head at the bright orange that had slicked his Master's locks back in a somehow seductive look, as though it were wet with gel rather than hair dye, "Very bright. 'S good, sir."

"How long to wait still?" Gerard looked down at his watch, "I'd say another twenty minutes, what do you say, boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"How about some coffee?" Gerard smiled, "I'll make it this time, what do you say?"

"In a heartbeat, sir."