Title: Sexual Healing.
Pairing: Ray Toro/Frank Iero
Word Count: 2662
Written For: nova_bright
Prompt: (pairing AND idea) Frank/Ray, Ray genderswap, Frank fascinated by Ray's new boobs.
Tuesday morning, Ray wakes up and he's a girl. Honestly, he's a little shocked because, as weird as his band is, these things tend to confine themselves to Fall Out Boy and Cobra Starship.
After an hour of sitting in his bunk and staring at his crotch, trying to will his dick back into existence, he nods and thinks Okay.
He then phones Krista for advice.
Krista is unsurprisingly cool about the whole affair. Although she does say, "It's a little Pete Wentz, isn't it, Ray?"
Ray rolls his eyes because, yeah, it kind of is.
"You're going to need a bra," Krista says. "Do you have any idea what your cup size is?"
Ray wrinkles his face and thinks for a moment. "No?"
Krista sighs. "Well, are you bigger than me, or smaller?"
Ray closes his eyes and cups himself experimentally, judging the weight of his breast in his palm. "Um? A little bigger, I think." Ray doesn't sound convinced.
That's when Frank reaches around from behind and cops a cheap feel. Ray squeaks and lunges forward to get out of the way. He miscalculates though and accidentally traps himself against the wall. Frank leans into him, squeezing his tit again, and presses his mouth against Ray's cheek so that he can chirp into the phone.
"He's bigger than Jamia," Frank offers helpfully.
Krista hums thoughtfully into Ray's ear. "You're probably a D."*
It turns out Ray is a D-cup. It also turns out that he prefers the athletic sports bras with microfiber instead of underwire. And he likes the wide straps with the racing back. When Frank comes into the back lounge of the bus, Ray has about a hundred different bras thrown all over the place.
"Woah," Frank breathes out, impressed. "It's like a Victoria's Secret store went on an all night bender and threw up in here." Frank looks at a black lace bra lying on the floor by his feet. He gives it an appreciative wide-eyed stare and grins, "Awesome."
"Not 'awesome'," Ray corrects immediately, yanking his t-shirt back down over his head. His voice is a little pitchy, even for him, and he cringes. "The lace itches.” Ray shakes his head, untrapping his hair from the collar of his shirt. “I think I have sensitive nipples."
Ray spots Frank darting a quick glace at his chest and makes a v with two fingers. He points them at Frank, and then swivels them back towards his own face. "Eyes up here, Iero."
Guys, Ray is learning, can be douche bags sometimes.
Frank cackles and doesn't even deny it as he climbs onto the arm of the couch, biting the cuticle around his thumbnail. He gives Ray a sincere, wide-eyed, understanding nod. "Yeah," Frank replies, kicking at the black lace bra with his toe. "I'm pretty sure those are just Fuck Me bras anyway. They're not, like, properly engineered an' shit to hold stuff…y'know…up."
Ray makes an agreeable noise.
"So, how long do you think you'll have the--" Frank circles his own chest with his free hand and lets Ray fill in the blank.
Ray shrugs and stoops to pick up the bras covering the back of the couch and the floor. "I don't know. I talked to Patrick and he said that Joe had that third nipple for, like, a year or whatever. But with him it could have been all the pot, you know? It's hard to say for sure."*
The first week goes by minimal fuss. As a woman, Ray's a bit of an Amazon. On the plus side, his hair is a little shinier than usual.
When they get a hotel night, Ray rooms with Frank.
Frank showers first and doesn't leave behind much hot water. By the time Ray's ready to condition his hair, the water is running cold against the back of his neck. Ray makes a mental note to bitch about it after he gets out.
He promptly forgets about it though when he walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later. Frank is stretched out on the bed browsing through the Psychology Today website. Ignoring the wet trail of water dripping down the back of his neck and the way his nipples are poking against the thin fabric of his t-shirt, Ray sits down next to Frank on the bed.
He looks over Frank’s shoulder and reads. Frank is seemingly engrossed in an article on retarded ejaculation.
“Frank, what are you doing?” Ray's voice ratchets up an octave.
Frank doesn’t look up. “Research,” he says, obviously.
Ray can feel himself visibly blanch, then Frank waves his hand and says, “I remembered reading something in school that I thought might help, I think it was Freud’s theory on sexual inversion and crossdressing, or something. But then I got distracted. Check it out.”
Ray gets comfortable on the bed and then crosses his arms over his chest. He always feels conspicuous without his bra. “I don’t have a problem ejaculating,” Ray sulks. Frank covers his laugh with the back of his hand and flips tabs. Ray scans the article quickly. He can feel his face heating up. “That’s not me!”
"Woah, relax, dude. It's just a theory."
"Well, I have a theory that Freud is full of shit!" Ray yelps.
Frank's mouth quirks up at the corner. "You're not alone in that." Frank pushes the laptop aside and flops down backwards on the bed. "So why d'you figure you're a girl all of a sudden?"
Ray gets up from the bed and starts rooting through his bag for some socks. "I don't know."
"Well, have you eaten anything funny? Anything marked "Eat Me" or something like that?"
Ray gives Frank a dubious look. "No! Of course not."
Frank rubs his chin thoughtfully. "That rules out any Alice in Wonderland connections."
"Alice never turned into a boy," Ray points out tiredly.
A few seconds later Frank scrambles up onto his knees, snapping his fingers excitedly. "Wait! Wait! I know! Did you run into any strange gypsies? You know, like in Thinner where the fat guy crashes his car into the gypsy and he keeps eating and eating and even though he does, he keeps getting thinner 'cause he's cursed!"
Ray doesn't even answer that. He just shuts off the lights and crawls into bed. After a few minutes, Frank finally says, sullenly, "I don't hear you coming up with anything better. Jesus." *
The thing is, Ray isn't coming up with anything better. He's in the lounge moping when Gerard points out the obvious.
"I don't think it matters why you're a girl," Gerard says earnestly. "I think you just need to focus on how to get back to being a real boy again."
"Okay Peter Pan," Mikey snorts from the kitchen.
Gerard gives Mikey a sharp look but Mikey only smiles blithely and drinks his Red Bull while leaning against the countertop.
"Maybe you just need to do some really manly things," Frank says helpfully. "I can take you to a monster truck rally with me and Jamia."
Ray can feel himself visibly pale, and Bob laughs out loud.
"What?" Frank says, looking up, confused.
Bob doubles over and holds his stomach as he laughs.
Ray clears his throat, and then hesitates. "Frankie, I don’t want to wear plaid."
They spend the rest of the morning brainstorming before Mikey finally throws in the towel and calls Pete. "Pete," he says drumming his fingers on the table top. "We've got, ah, a situation over here."
They're all quiet around the table watching Mikey expectantly.
"No," Mikey says, laughing. "Not that kind of situation. Ray's, ah, a girl."
Ray can feel his face heating up.
"Yeah, a couple of weeks now," Mikey says smoothly. "We were hoping it would just, you know, go away. Or come back if you want to be technical about it."
When Mikey hangs up they all stare at him.
"Well?" Ray prompts.
Mikey shrugs his shoulders. "Pete doesn't know."*
"At least you make a handsome girl," Frank says later that night. It's another hotel stopover and Frank is pulling his shirt up over his head while he talks. His tattoos look like bruises in the shadows of their room. Ray's gut flips over and he thinks, "Oh."
Ray's never looked at Frankie like that before and now that he has, it all slides into place.
Frank kicks off his jeans and walks into the bathroom with his toothbrush. When he comes out a second after that, he's foaming at the mouth as he stares at the local news channel. Ray tries not to notice that the elastic on his boxers has given way and Frank's underwear is slipping dangerously low on his hips.
When Frank's eyes cut away from the television, Ray blushes. Frank gives him a curious look and then goes back to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste. Ray has already crawled into bed, and flipped his back towards Frank when Frank comes back into the room.
After Frank shuts out the lights, Ray slides his palm down between his thighs, cupping where his cock used to be. There's a hollow, raw want there that he's not used to feeling.
Ray can hear the rustle of Frank fighting with his sheets across the room, then Frank finally, suddenly, sighs heavily. "Look, dude. Don't take this the wrong way but were you just checking me out?"
Ray briefly considers a fake snore but when he turns onto his back, Frank's face is hovering over top of him. Ray shrieks and then quickly tells himself it's okay to shriek because a) he's a girl and b) Frank's face two inches away from his when he's sporting a girl-version of a boner is NOT COOL.
"Jesus!" Ray squeaks. "Frank!"
"Because I'm pretty sure I saw you looking at my ass a few minutes ago."
"I wasn't!" Ray protests.
"It's okay if you were," Frank says reassuringly.
Frank's face is still hovering over his, and from this angle, Ray can see up his nose. It's not attractive. Ray swallows dryly and Frank drops his head, pressing his mouth over Ray's.
Ray means to say, "What are you doing?" only it comes out muffled against Frank's lips. When he opens his mouth to talk, Frank's tongue licks inside. Ray's stomach does an uncomfortable barrel roll as Frank pulls the covers away, climbing into bed over top of him.
Frank's knee digs into Ray's side. The bed jostles slightly and Frank makes an 'oof' noise as he catches his weight with his palm at the last second.
Frank is a good kisser, Ray decides as he cups Frank's hips and holds him in place. Frank is a good kisser who smells good. Frank is a good kisser who smells good and who is also grinding his dick down against Ray's pelvis.
Ray jerks his head back into the pillow and Frank's mouth comes away from his with a wet sound.
"No," Frank says shaking his head. "You are not freaking out." He stares at Ray, panting, and Ray darts his tongue against the corner of his mouth. "Say it," Frank demands jiggling the mattress by Ray's head. "You are not freaking out."
"I'm not freaking out?" Ray echoes.
Except he sort of is. Ray frowns. "Do you think we'll wake up in the morning and this will all have been a dream?"
"No," Frank mumbles. "That's totally lame. I think the key here is to have magical sex so that you can get in touch with your feminine side."
"What about you!?" Ray protests.
"Fuck, Toro. I'm just horny." *
It turns out that Frank is wrong. While the sex is good, it's not magical because in the morning, Ray still has tits and no dick. As Ray packs his bags, Frank sets about stealing all the hotel soaps.
"I really thought it would work," Frank says when he comes out of the bathroom. He drops a tiny bottle of shampoo behind him while he walks.
"No, you didn't," Ray argues. "You just wanted to get in my pants."
They argue all the way to the bus. After they load up their gear, the band troops over to the IHop next door for breakfast. They're scanning their menus when Frank bitches, "I don’t think you can argue that I took advantage of you." He starts ticking the reasons off on his fingers. "Number one, you were gawking at my fucking ass and you know it. Number two, I went down on you and you came three goddamn times."
The waitress gives them a look as she fills their coffee cups.
Ray leans across the table and hisses. "Knock it off, Frankie!"
Frank ignores him and actually starts talking louder. "And number three, I actually thought it would work."
Bob gives him a skeptical look.
Frank eyes him sharply. "I did
," he says pointedly.
When the check comes, Worm lays down enough money to cover it off and crowds them back onto the bus. Frank stomps into the back lounge and makes a point of rattling the curtain as hard as possible when he shuts it.
"Look who's being hormonal now!" Ray calls after him.
"Fuck you, Toro!" Frank shouts back.
Somewhere between state lines, Ray finds his way into the lounge. Frank is watching a biopic on Al Capone when Ray sits down next to him on the couch.
"So, I was kind of a douche back there," Ray offers.
"You were," Frank says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ray nods his head and coaches Frank slowly, "…and so was I…"
"We established that already," Frank says stubbornly.
Ray rolls his eyes and sighs. "I didn't really think it would work anyway," he fidgets with the thin patch of denim covering his knee. "If you know what I mean."
Frank swivels his head and Ray kisses him full on the mouth.
They have non-magical sex in the back lounge, and in the bunks, and in the maintenance room at their next venue. When Ray finally wakes up with his dick again, it's a Tuesday morning, like any other. He spends a couple of minutes getting re-acquainted with it before he rolls out of bed to tell the others.
"Hah," Frank says, "I told you sex would fix it."
"We've been having sex for three weeks," Ray points out.
"It's statistically improbable for sex to have cured it on the first try," Bob says.
Ray and Frank both look at him.
"What?" Bob shrugs. "I know how to calculate probabilities."
"Whatever, my dick cured you," Frank says.
Ray sighs and shakes his head. Frank's not going to leave it alone unless Ray agrees. "Yes, yes, Frank. Were it not for your dick, I would still be a girl."
They look at each other awkwardly for a few minutes. Finally Frank asks, "So, are we done having sex?"
Ray considers the question. "I think so? I mean, I love you like a brother but I'm not that attracted to you right now."
"You sure? You want to check out my ass just to make sure?"
Seeing as Ray would much rather call his girlfriend and then maybe play some Halo before looking at Frank's grimy underwear, he nods his head. "Yeah, I'm sure." Ray stops, horrified. It occurs to him that maybe Frank wants to continue and then things might be awkward. "You understand, right?"
"Fuck yeah. I only like the vagina edition of you," Frank says.
"Well," Bob clears his throat, "I'm going to go scrub my brain with bleach now."
They wave bye to him and sit for a bit longer until Ray stands up and says, "Gonna go call Krista."
Before he leaves, Ray turns back to Frank and says, "Thank you, Frank."
Frank grins. "I feel like there's a sexual healing joke in here somewhere."
Ray shakes his head. "Please don't."
Beta by secrethappiness
because she is a sucker for punishment. The ending, thank FUCK, helpfully provided by my pal, Pinn.
This fic. Honestly, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.