theprettymarine | [voice test]

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frank

[voice test]

Billy didn't know how to name the feeling he had when Frank married Maria. He was happy for his friend, for both of them. He did everything a best man was supposed to do, and then some, because he would be damned if Frank didn't have a decent wedding, even if it was a rush job. Because Maria was pregnant. But Frank was happy and that was what mattered.

But something did shift in him as he watched his friend take his vows. No one sticks around. Maybe that wasn't totally fair - Frank was his brother, they were Marines, and they would share things that no one else did, and that was okay. He didn't need anything else from Frank. He didn't deserve anything else.

They had some leave before their first deployment, which was how Frank managed to get married at all. And after Frank resurfaced from his brief honeymoon, Billy was happy to meet him for drinks.

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"I still have so many condoms left," Billy said lazily. He lolled his head to look at Frank, soft and warm as he smiled.

He could feel places on his body throbbing, knowing there'd be bruises if there weren't already. He was glad that tomorrow he'd look in the mirror in and see them: see where Frank's mouth and hands had been.

"No, I'm not gonna kick you out. You can stay until you gotta go."

"You plannin' on usin' them all tonight?" Frank asked, voice soft ad lazy now, verging toward sleep because they'd had a fair amount to drink and they'd worked themselves to a peak twice.

He ran his knuckles against Billy's shoulder gently. He hadn't asked when Maria wanted him back, though he supposed he didn't have days to disappear into Billy's sheets. In the morning, he'd check in with her and see where things stood. A blessing beforehand was one thing; it was another on the other side of things.

"Until neither of us can get it up again. I don't squander opportunities, Frank Castle." He smiled at Frank, though, and he just looked at him as Frank's knuckles brush an old scar or two. Billy huffed a laugh.

"Or maybe we'll both pass out and stay that way until morning."

Frank's eyes passed to the scars. He'd looked at them a time or two, wondered. He'd never asked, and wasn't sure how or if he should. Now didn't seem the time either.

He leaned in, tucked his nose against Billy's throat, and sighed. "Well, I dunno about morning," he said. "But a couple hours at least."

"Hours?" Billy tried, hard, not to look crestfallen. He put a smile back on and lolled his head to look at the ceiling as Frank tucked in against him. "Yeah, man. Whatever you've gotta do. Of course."

Hours. All he wanted to do was fall asleep for a while, but he didn't dare now. What if he-- what? What if he missed something? Frank was about to pass out, too, what the fuck was he going to miss? But somehow the reminder that this would all end, and soon, made an uncomfortable desperation twist up in his chest.

You're stuck with me now, Bill.

He tried not to doubt.

Frank didn't catch the look, because his face was talked down, but he felt the moment of it. He felt that catch in Billy's breath and the flutter in his neck, and that moment where he wasn't smiling, and it made him look up. The smile was back, by then.

He leaned in and gave Billy a kiss. "To rest, man," he said, all soft and reassuring. "A few hours before I wake up again and harass you."

He pushed and tugged and rearranged them, until he had Billy in a comfortable position on his chest and his arms wrapped around him. It was maybe a little silly, since Billy was taller than he was. But he seemed to need it, that reassurance that he was there and he wasn't going anywhere. "We just did two rounds in under two hours, and I took it up the ass for the first time ever, and I can still count sex on one hand, so you're gonna have to forgive that I want to cuddle and sleep for a few hours, motherfucker."

Billy rolled his eyes and uselessly kicked at Frank even as Frank rearranged them on the bed and dragged him close. He smiled against Frank's chest, enjoying how warm he felt, and how fucking good he smelled.

"Build up that fuckin stamina, Marine. Are you telling me your honeymoon was quiet? I call bullshit."

This was easy: teasing Frank, being an asshole. And it was easy to relax on him, to let Frank hold him like that. Easier than he thought it'd be. He tried to hide a yawn.

"Okay, okay. A nap."

Frank bundled Billy close to him and kissed his hair and said nothing about his honeymoon. It had been quiet; his wife was pregnant, after all, and she wasn't interested in him doing a damn thing to her at the moment, and Frank could respect that.

Eventually, they drifted off. It was warm and close and comfortable, but Frank didn't sleep much naturally, and it was harder still when he was pressed close to Billy Russo.

He roused after a couple hours. They'd shifted positions slightly, spooned against each other, and Frank brushed a kiss against Billy's shoulder.

Billy didn't remember falling asleep, but he must have passed out hard. He didn't remember moving at all, but when he started coming to again, it was to the feeling of warmth against his back and Frank's lips against his shoulder.

"Hey Frankie."

His voice was still heavy with sleep and he reached back lazily to brush his fingers over Frank's head.

“Hey Bill,” Frank breathed against Billy’s skin, kissing over him slowly, mouthing at the shadow of some of the marks he’d left. He had morning wood that was turning into a full blown hard on.

“How you feelin’ baby?”

He smiled lazily and nudged his hips back against Frank's; he could feel his cock pressing against his ass. "Pretty good," he breathed, closing his eyes again as Frank's mouth teased over his skin.

"Almost as good as you, huh?"

“Told you,” he murmured, still sleepy and warm in the space between their skin. He rolled his hips to meet Billy’s, and circled a hand slowly around to drag his fingertips heavily down Billy’s chest, his stomach, down to his hips. “Just needed a rest.”

"Yeah, yeah you weren't kiddin'," he sighed as Frank rocks against him. He bit his lip when Frank caught his hip and he let his head loll forward.

Billy reached back between them and managed to curl his fingers around Frank's cock. "Could probably just stick it back in," he said with a grin in his voice. "Bet it'd be easy, Frankie."

"Jesus," Frank breathed. He squeezed Billy's hip tightly, hand sliding down to his thigh to lift his leg a little bit. "You're a fucking menace. You want it that badly?"

Because Frank had had other ideas. He was definitely going to slip it to him, but he'd been thinking of other things first. But if Billy wanted it that badly, he could be persuaded.

His cock already ached and his breath caught as Frank grabbed his thigh. Billy groped for the lube and probably almost hit Frank in the face with it when he passed it back over his shoulder.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah Frankie, I want you that bad."

It was less a pass and more of a toss, and Frank laughed breathlessly. He squeezed Billy’s thigh briefly and then took his hands off him, just long enough to assess, to assure. He didn’t want to hurt him. He considered the string of condoms lost in the sheets and Billy’s long, lean body, and then slicked himself bare. His fingers grazed him briefly, spreading lube. God, he was still slick and easy.

Frank groaned as he nudged, slowly, into him.

Billy pushed his face against the bed, muffling a moan as Frank's slick fingers rubbed over him. Fuck. Fuck, it really was going to be that easy, wasn't it? He arched his back, moved a little to try and make it easier as Frank pushed in, so fucking slow.

"Oh fuck," he breathed, eyes closed. "Holy shit, Frank." He reached back, grabbing the back of Frank's neck just to hold onto him as his cock sank deeper.

It was slower now, less urgent than it had been. Frank focused on the feeling of it, the slow, hot weight of their bodies pressing together. He pushed in and put his hands back where he wanted them, one in Billy’s hair and the other on his thigh to hold him gently open.

He kissed at his neck as he bottomed out. “You feel good, baby. There you go. Good boy.”

He lolled his head a little when Frank's hand pushed into his hair. He tried rocking his hips back as Frank held his thigh, and it felt so fucking good.

"Fuck," he sighed, a faint grin tugging at his mouth as he spoke. "Killin' me with that sweet talk, Frankie."

“You want me to stop?” Frank asked, teased. His hips were a slow push and pull, the slightest movement, seeking the best angle. He tugged at Billy’s hair a little, lengthening that angle of his neck a little. Goddamn, he looked fucking spectacular. Frank felt his cock twitch inside him. “Or do you just want less sweet and more filth?”

"Don't stop. Don't stop any of it." If Frank wanted to whisper sweet nothings or filth in his ear, Billy would take it all. He bit his lip, breath caught the next time Frank's cock slid just right.

"Fuck you feel so good."

He kept his hands on Frank and on the bed to keep from touching himself just yet. They didn't have to rush this time. There was no need.

Frank smiled against Billy’s ear. Everything was just good, hazy and warm and slow in that moment. He didn’t rush, just let his hips move how they needed to to feel good, to get that sweet noise out of Billy.

God it was perfect, the way Frank moved was just right and Billy swore he saw stars a little. He whispered another curse, breathless as he moved to meet the next push of Frank's hips.

"Jesus, Frank--"

He pushed his face against his pillow and his fingers tightened against Frank's neck.

“That’s it, baby,” Frank breathed. “That’s it.”

He wanted to keep talking, to be full of sweet talk or filth, but really, all he was full of was soft, needy sighs and groans as his speed picked up just a little bit. His fingers dug into Billy’s thigh, a rough, needy grip. God, he felt good.

"Fuck, just-- fuck--"

He could't even articulate, not when Frank was making those sounds behind him. Frank's fingers dug into his thigh and Billy found himself hoping it bruised.

He finally touched his cock, stroked himself a little as Frank pushed into him. Billy still felt like he could be half asleep, everything warm and a little fuzzy, brought into sharp focus by little things: the pinch of Frank's fingers, the perfect fucking slide of his cock, his voice against his shoulder.

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