Chapter Text
Ray considers himself a pretty touchy-feely guy – in fact, he's been that way for what he believes to be most of his life. He isn't sure where it stems from, whether he was simply born that way or if it was a habit he developed over time and experience, but he's found himself craving the sensation of another body crowding into his space 24/7 almost constantly. Unfortunately, he has to actually do things, like go to interviews, photoshoots and whatnot. Being in what is probably the world's cuddliest, tightly-knit band with the most affectionate dudes he's ever met helps a little, but it's not enough. He finds himself wanting more every time he indulges in the urge, simply insatiable. When his hands are left with nothing to hold, he gets all fidgety and restless, but he'd rather not make it anyone else's problem so he chooses to keep that selfish part of him tucked away neatly, but every now and then it chooses to break free and take over his brain like a parasite. He can't help it, really. He's gotten good at managing it, but of course, he's only human.
Frank being the cause of it doesn't make it better in the slightest.
He cuddles with the other guys. He does. He's in a band with dudes who aren't afraid to show their platonic love for each other in the slightest, so yes, they do cuddle, occasionally. When the situation calls for it, which is practically every situation. He gravitates towards Frank because while he cuddles with Gee the most, he's about as warm as you'd expect a corpse to be; not at all. Mikey would be a nice cuddle buddy if he were less angular and more human, but they're both decent enough to the point where he'd still hold them anyway, though there are… other factors to be considered regarding the human hurricane that is Frank Iero.
Ray has recently come to terms that he may, perchance, have a small crush on Frank, if he can even call it that. Something about his doe eyes and the way his tongue flits out to toy with his lip ring when he's anxious makes him ridiculously irresistible. He's not entirely certain Frank's doing it on purpose by tucking himself into Ray's side as much as possible as if he knows exactly which buttons to push. For all Ray knows, Frank and him are two sides of the same coin. He's got an inkling that Frank's naturally tactile. And Ray gets it, he totally does and he's grateful, but he finds it growing harder to nurse his minor fascination with the rhythm guitarist. Maybe minor is an understatement, considering how much Ray feels he is so close to reaching his breaking point and trapping Frank in a bear hug so tight he can't escape, no matter how hard he thrashes in flails in Ray's grasp. That thought sort of scares Ray, but luckily, he's got a pretty good sense of self-control, so he should be fine. He can handle this. Right?
Definitely.
-
Ray, a little belatedly, realizes he cannot handle this.
Tonight, he's crashed in his bunk while the others are out getting drinks. He was invited along, but he turned down the offer in the hopes of getting some well needed rest. Instead, he's been lying awake for what feels like the past hour, or so he assumes (he hadn't been keeping track of how long the guys have been out). He typically has very little issues with falling asleep, usually when the rest of the band turns in at the same time, but he doesn't know how that would explain his current position. He feels his stomach constrict, twisting and tying itself into knots while he feels the prickling of tears beginning to form in his eyes. He's sweating profusely, which is not outlandish after just having played a show, but he doesn't sweat this much. Why does he feel like he's going to cry?
This hasn't happened before. Why is it happening now? What is he doing wrong?
He briefly wonders when the guys are coming back, and mentally berates himself for it. He's a grown ass man, he can handle being alone for a little while longer. He doesn't need to have his friends near him all the time. He doesn't need to cuddle with any of them (especially not Frank), but his mind certainly believes he does. It's like Ray's stupid brain has fully convinced him he'll die if he can't hold another person. He hugs his knees to his chest tightly, attempting to diminish the overwhelming feeling over the lack of another body's warmth, but it’s not enough. He grabs his pillow, wrapping his arms around it and squeezing it tightly. It's still not enough. His eyes are starting to sting a little, his breathing going uneven and choppy. His ribs feel like they're caving in, puncturing his lungs, making them collapse. God, he feels like he's going to burst.
He really doesn't know what to do with himself. He wants to hold. He wants to touch. Hell, he wants to hold and touch Frank, like, really bad. He wants to hold Frank until their bodies become inseparable. The guilt washing over him makes the tears welling in his eyes overflow and start to spill out of the corners of his eyes.
He wonders why he ever thought he could handle this, whatever this is in the first place.
-
After maybe 10 minutes (it feels more like an hour to Ray) of Ray quietly weeping in his bunk, he hears the door creak open. He almost bangs his head on the bunk ceiling with how quick he perks up at the noise. When Ray leaves his bunk, he's greeted with the presence of a figure with short black hair and a scorpion tattoo. Frank. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he spots Ray, signaling that he wasn't expecting him to be awake.
"Toro, what the hell –why are you still up? I thought you were turnin' in early ‘cause you were tired," he asks, confirming Ray's suspicion and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. What he says is true. Ray did tell them he was heading back to the bunks to get some rest, which he obviously did not.
"Couldn't sleep," Ray croaks, his throat going impossibly dry, yet it still feels like he's drowning. He doesn't know if he remembers how to breathe. He's very aware that the evidence of his earlier sobbing is just about written on his face. He's got a vague idea of what he looks like to Frank right now: eyes puffy and pink, cheeks stained with tears, snot dripping from his nose. He scratches the back of his neck, shifting on his feet uselessly. He sees a hint of worry dawn on Frank's face and quickly averts his gaze.
"Ray, what's wrong? What happened?" Frank looks at him expectantly, but Ray's too embarrassed to answer, let alone face him right now. He screws his eyes shut. How exactly are you supposed to explain to your friend and bandmate that you can't sleep because you want to hold someone, to feel the warmth of another body? How do you explain to said friend and bandmate that you really want to hold them? He lets the question sit, lets it dissipate into the particles of the air, still refusing to look at Frank.
"I don't know," he snivels, but even those three simple words feel heavy on his tongue. He clenches his hands into fists and digs his nails into his palms, raising his shoulders to reach the tips of his ears. He can't tell Frank, he can't, why can't he just–
"Woah, hey," a voice from the outside of his mind pulls him back. A calloused hand settles on his shoulder, shaking him a little. It snaps him out of his spiral just before he delves too deep into it. He blinks, looking down to examine Frank's concerned pout. He's even prettier when he's upset, Ray's brain supplies helpfully.
"I'm not gonna judge ya, okay? I Jus'wanna know what's been going on in that pretty head of yours," Frank laughs to himself. Ray knows he's just messing with him when he calls him pretty, he's confident he jokes like that to the other guys, but it makes Ray blush all the same.
"Can you – Can we…" Ray's trying his best to form full, coherent sentences right now, but his throat feels raw, like he's forgotten how to speak. He hopes that grabbing Frank's wrist and pulling him in the direction of the bunks is enough to convey what he can't say with words.
"Toro, what –? What's going on? Dude, come on –" He clearly hasn't gotten with the program and Ray doesn't blame him. His questions have all been left unanswered, and Ray can't even provide an explanation as to why that is.
When they get to the bunks, Ray crawls in, reaching his hand out for Frank to take. He does, shoving himself in alongside Ray in the cramped space, the same confused expression plastered on his face.
"Just.. just stay here," Ray whispers, pulling Frank closer to him, and that's when it finally clicks for him. He shifts so that he's half on top of Ray, head resting on his chest. He lazily throws a leg over Ray's waist as Ray wraps his arms around his torso. Ray's chest is very pillowy, so soft that Frank’s drifted off more than once in this position. Like this, he can just about feel Ray's pulse thrumming in his skull, the soft thumping of his pulse nearly sending him into a sleep-like trance, but sleep is not his priority at the moment. He needs to figure out what's up with Toro first.
A minute or two pass by before he pipes up again.
"You gonna tell me what's going on with you yet?" Ray wasn't expecting the question, but he knew Frank would persist in his search for an answer. Then again, Ray knows he can never drop anything entirely. "You know you can always talk to me."
"Promise you won't make fun of me?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die. Now spill."
"I just.. Frank, fuck, I don't know how to explain it," Ray sighs while Frank adjusts so that his chin is resting on Ray's sternum, quirking a brow at him, wordlessly asking him to continue. "You know how we cuddle a lot?"
Frank's a little caught off-guard by the question. It's typically one of those things that go unspoken in the band. It happens, and no one bats an eye at this point. "..Yeah, what about it?"
"It feels.. It's like.." Ray tries again, still unable to phrase the words how he wants. He makes a frustrated noise that gets caught somewhere in the back of his throat. Frank can feel the vibrations of it through his chest.
"Take your time, we've got all night. Or day. I don't remember what time it is," he giggles softly, tapping Ray's nose. He lets out a breathy little laugh at that, half-heartedly trying to get away from Frank's finger. The nervousness in his system is starting to bleed out of him a touch.
"I just –it's kind of hard for me, y'know. To like, go a long period of time without holding someone. S'kinda why I like the, uhm, the cuddling so much. I don't like my hands having nothing to do, and it used to be like. Not a big deal, right? I get all anxious and shit though, like I drank a fuck-ton of coffee or whatever," Ray rambles, tightening his grasp on Frank. He pointedly does not meet Frank's eyes during the entirety of his spiel. He takes a breath before starting up again. "It uhm, it helps.. Uh, ground me. But it starts to feel like I need it, and I feel selfish for wanting to do it more 'cause I shouldn't push that on you guys and.. I get scared you guys would kick me out of the band or something. Like, abandon me. I think that's what causes this? I dunno." Ray finally gets a look at Frank's face when the final words leave his mouth, and he's fully prepared to shove Frank off of him and hide out in his bunk for the rest of.. however long until the guys get back.
"Fuck, I'm sorry, did I overstep?" Ray starts to nervously gnaw on his bottom lip when he sees Frank's brow furrow, lips pressed in a thin line. "I can go, if you want me to, 'm really sorry, I shouldn't be telling you th–"
"Ray, what? You're fine, you didn't do anything wrong. Just thinking," Frank says, and it really should help Ray relax, if only by a fraction, but it makes him tense more. What could he possibly be thinking about? About how much he hates Ray? Is Ray gonna have to quit the band?
"Hey, don't go spiraling on me," Frank chuckles under his breath. Ray feels a little ashamed of how easily Frank can read him. Then again, they spend a lot of time together, so it makes sense he's so well versed in Ray's mannerisms. "I need you down to Earth with me, get your head outta the clouds, Toro."
"Sorry," Ray repeats, tapping away a rhythm on Frank's back. Frank definitely notices how twitchy he's getting, so he tries to come up with an answer as quickly as possible before Ray has a panic attack.
"Don't apologize, man, like I said, you're fine. I mean, I get antsy sometimes too when I don't have someone's personal space to crawl into. I can't sleep at night 'cause of it. I like being held, 's nice, and there are some days where I really just need to be fuckin' held, y'know? I promise you I get it, it's not weird to me, don't worry," he wriggles around a little, punctuating his point by crowding himself impossibly further into Ray's space, now fully on top of him. Ray's pulse spikes up, his face immediately flushing a dark pink. It's a good thing Frank isn't focusing on his face. "So like, if you ever need to hold someone, I'll be around, 'kay?"
" 'Kay," Ray echoes, moving his hand up to Frank's head instead, scratching his scalp softly. Frank thinks he could fall asleep here, Ray's blunt fingernails softly biting into his scalp with his arm wrapped around him.
"You're really warm," Frank thinks aloud, unaware of the words that left his mouth. Ray hums in response, tightening the arm around his waist. "And a good cuddle buddy."
"Mhm, you too," He settles on with his heart still trying to pound out of his chest, only slowing down slightly in the moments he's basked in Frank's warmth. If Frank notices, which he most definitely does, he doesn't comment on it (which Ray appreciates quite a bit). Ray watches his eyelids flutter shut, unable to stay open any longer. Ray doesn't think he'd mind too much if Frank fell asleep in his arms, but Frank might prefer sleeping in his own bunk over Ray’s.
"You should sleep," Ray suggests, nudging him softly. "You'll get all grumpy later and blame me if you don't."
"Don'wanna move yet. Inaminute," Frank slurs noncommittally, his brain starting to cloud with sleep, but before he can even think of dozing off in Ray's arm, he feels a sudden rush of anxiety. He's not quite sure where their boundaries lay yet. He blinks his eyes open, squirming in Ray's hold, making him snap back to reality.
"What's wrong?" Ray's eyelids are hooded and heavy from drowsiness, clearly on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. Frank almost feels bad interrupting him. Almost.
He sits up as Ray removes the hand in his head (Frank isn't too happy about that), his other arm still hanging around him loosely as Frank scrambles for words.
"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you, 'm not.. I know you said this is okay, but I'm not like, forcing you to do this? Hold me and shit? I don't really know what'll make you, y'know, uncomfortable–" he cuts himself off suddenly when Ray's long fingers wrap around his wrist, gently tugging him.
"I don't mind. Seriously, it's fine, Frankie," It's not an answer, not really, but it's enough for Frank. He trusts Ray to tell him if he ever feels any discomfort. "You can sleep here, if you want," Ray offers, not wanting Frank to go just yet.
"Wait, really? You're serious?"
"Yeah," Ray says through a yawn, wrapping his arms back around Frank's torso and tugging him closer. "Just try not to squirm so much. I don't wanna wake up with bruises all over my body from you kicking me in your sleep."
"No promises," he mumbles, scooting his body up to tuck his head into the crook of Ray's neck. Ray's much too tired to be phased by it, instead letting the cloud of sleep hanging over his head make his mind become all fuzzy and warped. He feels Frank's lips ghost the side of his neck, nearly planting an open-mouthed kiss there. But it never comes. Ray doesn't know if he should be relieved or disappointed, but he doesn't get a chance to dwell on it.
''Sweet dreams, Ray," is the last thing he hears before he's lulled asleep to the sound of Frank's steady heartbeat.