(no subject)
Title: Party of Two
Pairing: Mikey/Alex Suarez, mentions of Mikey/practically everybody
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1246
Summary: In order to have a private party with Frank, Mikey needs to have a private party with Alex
Prompt used: I could slash Mikey with Ian, Gabe, Joe, Ray, or Alex for random_bandom. All were tempting, but I went with Alex.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Author's Notes: Set in JRA 'verse, approximately at the beginning of the story. You don't need to read that 'verse to understand this.
Frank rushes to the sink and spits his half chewed mouthful out. “Oh my god. What are these?”
Mikey crosses his arms. “If you don’t like mine make your own.”
“I never claimed that I could do it. I’m only stating you really really can’t.”
Mikey will admit the brownies don’t really taste like brownies. Realistically though, how good is a cake jampacked with finely shredded leaves supposed to taste? Next time he’ll put MnM’s in the mix or something, make it even more chocolatey.
“They’ll be better next time,” he offers weakly.
“Fuck that. Don’t waste the weed. We’ll smoke it, like normal people. You got any left?”
“A bit. Like a bowl’s worth.”
“One bowl is better than no bowl.”
True enough. Mikey leaves the kitchen to get it.
*
As the rest of the class packs up their stuff and leaves, Mikey holds back. He waits until the room is empty to stand and make his way to the front. Christopherson is drinking from a reusable metal water bottle, no doubt rising her mouth of this period’s miserable fare. If Mikey was stuck as a cooking teacher he’d probably drink from a flask.
“So. Who’s the best cook this semester?”
She eyes him warily.
“Don’t worry, I’m not fishing for compliments. I know I’m gonna just barely not fail. I’m just curious. Who’s actually good?”
She replies without having to look at her teacherly paperwork. “Alex Suarez has ninety nine percent right now.”
“Thanks.”
Mikey exits to the busy hallway and starts planning his next wave of attack. Mikey refuses to graduate without once getting high with pot brownies with Frank. It’s October, he doesn’t even have a full year of possibility left. He cares enough about his cause that he wastes no time finding Suarez. He’s never talked to Alex but Mikey’s got everyone he’s ever messed around with as friends on Facebook, and Mikey’s messed around with practically all of his friends. There are a lot of overlapping pictures in their photo albums.
Alex is sitting with a bunch of guys and Victoria Asher and Sabi Portlock, both badass girls. In case of zombie apocalypse, Mikey would probably trust them to lead a zombie resistance squad over Gabe or Nate. He ignores them all and talks directly to Alex. “Can you makes me pot brownies?”
Alex looks at him for a second. “I can make anything that has a recipe. And half the time I can make it better than the recipe.”
*
“So ninety nine percent, huh?” Mikey asks as the brownies cook. Who could have guessed that you don’t actually put pot into the batter? Instead Alex made infused vegetable oil with pot grinded to near powder. He strained it and used that while making the rest of the recipe normally. Mikey wouldn’t have guessed to do that in a million years. “Forgot a piece of parsley garnish somewhere?”
“One of the theoretical assignments. Messed up a conversion between imperial and metric. Like, I can give them centimeters over inches, fine. Done in tens, that makes sense. But no one will ever use milligrams over cups or teaspoons. It’s just the way it is.”
It’s said with the air of a battle constantly fought, like how Gerard believes Nolan ‘verse is better when it’s clearly Burton ‘verse, but will argue it until a third party tells them to both shut up. Unlike that situation, Mikey doesn’t really have an opinion. “Fuck theoretical anyway. You clearly know how to apply your knowledge.”
“I’m going to culinary school next year. Anything less than a hundred percent sucks.”
Mikey doesn’t have anything he’s that passionate about. Maybe following bands. He’s been helping Frank try to get Leathermouth playing in venues. Maybe he could be a manager, or a talent recruit, or something. Whatever he does, he and Gerard will do it in the same place. Gerard took a year off to make sure of that.
*
“You want one?” Mikey’s still got the cake smeared knife in his hand as he gestures. It’s lucky Alex is a few steps back. He’s a bit surprised at himself for asking. He only smokes with Frank. He’s pretty sure Bob and Ray and Gerard don’t even know they smoke. Well, maybe Gerard might be able to smell it on him. If he can smell it over the constant haze of cigarette smoke. It’s only manners though. You don’t ask someone to make you a meal without offering them a plate of it.
Alex shakes his head. “Nah. Me and my friends are doing shrooms tomorrow. I wanna go in clear headed. I heard that when you eat pot you’re high for like two days.”
“Oh. Makes sense. I guess I’ll see you around later then?” He’s kind of relieved, honestly.
“I’m just gonna say it flat out. I wanna suck your dick.”
Mikey grins. “That’s pretty flat out.”
“Yeah. I could have flirted about a hundred different ways, but no. I don’t want to flick my tea towel at you, or dot flour on your nose, or mention something’s rising in the oven with a raised eyebrow. That’s not how I roll. So, dicksucking, yay or nay?”
He doesn’t need to answer. He swallows the last bit of his brownie and steps forward for a deep sweeping kiss. After the moment it takes for Alex to clue in, he’s pretty good at it. Not the best Mikey’s ever had, but that’s hardly a fair pool of judgement. At this point Mikey’s kissed pretty much every guy within two or three years his age willing to kiss him. For the less -experienced, Gerard says delicately, Mikey’s perfectly fine with reclaiming slutty- it’s probably an amazing kiss. It’s not technically accurate to say Alex tastes good. Right now everything tastes like chocolate and weed, Alex included. He keeps kissing him, wondering if he tastes the same way to Alex.
Mikey isn’t normally much for blowjobs.
Fucking is fun. He’s fine with being top or bottom. A lot of people have preferences, but Mikey doesn’t much care. He knows a lot of guys that are up for a good fuck. Ryan in particular has a really nice dick, great for getting fucked by.
Frottage and handjobs are good too, for those in a rush, or those who are scared and want straight plausible deniability. One of Alex’s friends is the first; Ryland was a child actor whose career remarkably didn’t go to hell when he hit puberty. Mikey thinks it’s a sad life when you’re too busy to fuck, but it’s not his life. Alex’s other friend Nate is the other side. In Mikey’s professional opinion, dude’s gonna be in the closet until the day he dies. Which is depressing, considering his best friend Peterson is so blatantly in love with him it could give Frank and Gerard a run for their money.
Blowjobs though. They take attention to detail, and a lack of gag reflex, neither of which are noted skills of Mikey’s. He has more fun doing things he’s good at.
Still, he’s hardly going to say no when Alex drops to his knees on the hardwood floor of his newly renovated kitchen. He looks good there, nearly as good as he did stirring batter. Mikey doubts they’re going to be long term hook-ups, but he hopes that Alex continues doing both of the things he’s good at.
Pairing: Mikey/Alex Suarez, mentions of Mikey/practically everybody
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1246
Summary: In order to have a private party with Frank, Mikey needs to have a private party with Alex
Prompt used: I could slash Mikey with Ian, Gabe, Joe, Ray, or Alex for random_bandom. All were tempting, but I went with Alex.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Author's Notes: Set in JRA 'verse, approximately at the beginning of the story. You don't need to read that 'verse to understand this.
Frank rushes to the sink and spits his half chewed mouthful out. “Oh my god. What are these?”
Mikey crosses his arms. “If you don’t like mine make your own.”
“I never claimed that I could do it. I’m only stating you really really can’t.”
Mikey will admit the brownies don’t really taste like brownies. Realistically though, how good is a cake jampacked with finely shredded leaves supposed to taste? Next time he’ll put MnM’s in the mix or something, make it even more chocolatey.
“They’ll be better next time,” he offers weakly.
“Fuck that. Don’t waste the weed. We’ll smoke it, like normal people. You got any left?”
“A bit. Like a bowl’s worth.”
“One bowl is better than no bowl.”
True enough. Mikey leaves the kitchen to get it.
*
As the rest of the class packs up their stuff and leaves, Mikey holds back. He waits until the room is empty to stand and make his way to the front. Christopherson is drinking from a reusable metal water bottle, no doubt rising her mouth of this period’s miserable fare. If Mikey was stuck as a cooking teacher he’d probably drink from a flask.
“So. Who’s the best cook this semester?”
She eyes him warily.
“Don’t worry, I’m not fishing for compliments. I know I’m gonna just barely not fail. I’m just curious. Who’s actually good?”
She replies without having to look at her teacherly paperwork. “Alex Suarez has ninety nine percent right now.”
“Thanks.”
Mikey exits to the busy hallway and starts planning his next wave of attack. Mikey refuses to graduate without once getting high with pot brownies with Frank. It’s October, he doesn’t even have a full year of possibility left. He cares enough about his cause that he wastes no time finding Suarez. He’s never talked to Alex but Mikey’s got everyone he’s ever messed around with as friends on Facebook, and Mikey’s messed around with practically all of his friends. There are a lot of overlapping pictures in their photo albums.
Alex is sitting with a bunch of guys and Victoria Asher and Sabi Portlock, both badass girls. In case of zombie apocalypse, Mikey would probably trust them to lead a zombie resistance squad over Gabe or Nate. He ignores them all and talks directly to Alex. “Can you makes me pot brownies?”
Alex looks at him for a second. “I can make anything that has a recipe. And half the time I can make it better than the recipe.”
*
“So ninety nine percent, huh?” Mikey asks as the brownies cook. Who could have guessed that you don’t actually put pot into the batter? Instead Alex made infused vegetable oil with pot grinded to near powder. He strained it and used that while making the rest of the recipe normally. Mikey wouldn’t have guessed to do that in a million years. “Forgot a piece of parsley garnish somewhere?”
“One of the theoretical assignments. Messed up a conversion between imperial and metric. Like, I can give them centimeters over inches, fine. Done in tens, that makes sense. But no one will ever use milligrams over cups or teaspoons. It’s just the way it is.”
It’s said with the air of a battle constantly fought, like how Gerard believes Nolan ‘verse is better when it’s clearly Burton ‘verse, but will argue it until a third party tells them to both shut up. Unlike that situation, Mikey doesn’t really have an opinion. “Fuck theoretical anyway. You clearly know how to apply your knowledge.”
“I’m going to culinary school next year. Anything less than a hundred percent sucks.”
Mikey doesn’t have anything he’s that passionate about. Maybe following bands. He’s been helping Frank try to get Leathermouth playing in venues. Maybe he could be a manager, or a talent recruit, or something. Whatever he does, he and Gerard will do it in the same place. Gerard took a year off to make sure of that.
*
“You want one?” Mikey’s still got the cake smeared knife in his hand as he gestures. It’s lucky Alex is a few steps back. He’s a bit surprised at himself for asking. He only smokes with Frank. He’s pretty sure Bob and Ray and Gerard don’t even know they smoke. Well, maybe Gerard might be able to smell it on him. If he can smell it over the constant haze of cigarette smoke. It’s only manners though. You don’t ask someone to make you a meal without offering them a plate of it.
Alex shakes his head. “Nah. Me and my friends are doing shrooms tomorrow. I wanna go in clear headed. I heard that when you eat pot you’re high for like two days.”
“Oh. Makes sense. I guess I’ll see you around later then?” He’s kind of relieved, honestly.
“I’m just gonna say it flat out. I wanna suck your dick.”
Mikey grins. “That’s pretty flat out.”
“Yeah. I could have flirted about a hundred different ways, but no. I don’t want to flick my tea towel at you, or dot flour on your nose, or mention something’s rising in the oven with a raised eyebrow. That’s not how I roll. So, dicksucking, yay or nay?”
He doesn’t need to answer. He swallows the last bit of his brownie and steps forward for a deep sweeping kiss. After the moment it takes for Alex to clue in, he’s pretty good at it. Not the best Mikey’s ever had, but that’s hardly a fair pool of judgement. At this point Mikey’s kissed pretty much every guy within two or three years his age willing to kiss him. For the less -experienced, Gerard says delicately, Mikey’s perfectly fine with reclaiming slutty- it’s probably an amazing kiss. It’s not technically accurate to say Alex tastes good. Right now everything tastes like chocolate and weed, Alex included. He keeps kissing him, wondering if he tastes the same way to Alex.
Mikey isn’t normally much for blowjobs.
Fucking is fun. He’s fine with being top or bottom. A lot of people have preferences, but Mikey doesn’t much care. He knows a lot of guys that are up for a good fuck. Ryan in particular has a really nice dick, great for getting fucked by.
Frottage and handjobs are good too, for those in a rush, or those who are scared and want straight plausible deniability. One of Alex’s friends is the first; Ryland was a child actor whose career remarkably didn’t go to hell when he hit puberty. Mikey thinks it’s a sad life when you’re too busy to fuck, but it’s not his life. Alex’s other friend Nate is the other side. In Mikey’s professional opinion, dude’s gonna be in the closet until the day he dies. Which is depressing, considering his best friend Peterson is so blatantly in love with him it could give Frank and Gerard a run for their money.
Blowjobs though. They take attention to detail, and a lack of gag reflex, neither of which are noted skills of Mikey’s. He has more fun doing things he’s good at.
Still, he’s hardly going to say no when Alex drops to his knees on the hardwood floor of his newly renovated kitchen. He looks good there, nearly as good as he did stirring batter. Mikey doubts they’re going to be long term hook-ups, but he hopes that Alex continues doing both of the things he’s good at.