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Gerard is the first person he doesn’t have to be high or drunk to fuck and enjoy it.He usually is anyway regardless, but that’s besides the point—he actually wants to stick around afterwards, and he still thinks about it from time to time during the rare instances where he’s sober.“You’re such a fucking whore,” Bert spits, squeezing his eyes shut and raking one hand through his hair. The sweat makes the pink at his roots bleed onto his skin. “Fuck, you’re tight. Shit.”“Fuck you.” Gerard’s lips are bitten red and raw. One hand grips and tugs between his thighs while the other tightly holds onto Bert’s shoulder. There’s no way in hell Bert won’t have purple crescent bruises all over his back tomorrow, but fuck if he cares. Gerard is underneath him and taking everything he has like a champ. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be.“You’re a fucking whore, Gerard.” Theres no venom in his words, although he tries his best to make it sound like there is because he knows it’s what Gerard likes. “You take it like one.”Bert’s wearing a sweater that Gerard loves, his love for it being something he’d never in a million years share with him. The way he’ll absentmindedly tug the sleeves down over his palms as far as they’ll go when he’s wearing it makes something swell inside Gerard’s chest—it makes him seem human, like he’s got some sort of actual innocence in him somewhere deep down. That sweater now hangs loosely around his skinny frame as he fucks Gerard so hard he sees stars. It’s a staple of him in Gerard’s mind now. He wants to wear it himself whenever they’re apart—it’s the closest he can possibly get to crawling into Bert’s skin and making a home there like he so deeply wants to.“More. Wanna feel it in my guts.”“Yeah?”“Fuck yeah.”Bert takes his dye-stained hand and wraps it around Gerard’s neck before Gerard can fully wrap his legs around his waist, and after a few squeezes and a few particularly rough thrusts Gerard is spilling onto his own stomach and fingers with his mouth open in a silent cry and his eyebrows knit together. They lock eyes and the sight of the look on Gerard’s face is all it takes to get Bert there too. “Fuck, oh my god, fuck me,” Gerard sobs. “I fucking love you, holy shit-“ Bert buries his face in Gerard’s shoulder and feels like he’s about to pass out.He pulls on boxers and lights a cigarette afterwards, feeling lightheaded and happy. He watches with a certain fascination as Gerard gets dressed, and while it could always just be the booze, Gerard looks ethereal to him in just lamplight, veiled by a thin layer of smoke. “You’re gorgeous,” he says quietly. Gerard’s face is shielded by his hair but he catches a glimpse of a blush and a smile.“You’re a fucking rat,” Gerard says with a grin. He climbs back into bed beside Bert, stealing a drag of his cigarette before laying down and closing his eyes. “I like you a lot.”“Me or my dick?” He’s kidding, but somewhere deep down he does genuinely want to know.“You,” Gerard swallows. “Your dick’s pretty cool too, though. I guess.”“Just pretty cool? You sounded like a fucking girl.”“Fuck off.”Gerard jumps on him and before he has a chance to react Gerard kisses him and shoves a hand down his boxers. Bert yelps with surprise but doesn’t protest. “Now suck my fucking dick.”He does, and spends the night afterwards high and tired with a full-feeling heart.