One Night At A Club, In Vegas
Title: One Night At A Club, In Vegas
Author: ihrtangusyoung/ihrtkjr
Pairing: Mikey Way (My Chemical Romance) Warrick Brown (CSI)
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third
Summary: I want to verb your noun
Disclaimer: Just about as fake as you can get, I mean really, one of them isn’t even real.
Author Notes: This is a fic co-written by two people who have nothing better to do and a mild case of obsession with two completely different genres of fan-fiction. Please enjoy our insanity.
Beta: our selves.
Greg ran into the locker room, nearly knocking Catherine down in the process .
“Whoa. What’s the rush Greggo?” Nick asked from behind the young lab tech. “Hot date?” He chuckled.
“Me and Warrick are going to see MCR!!!” Greg practically yelled in his ear. “It’s gonna be great. We’ll see Gerard and Mikey and Ray and Frank and Bob…” He laughed, while evading Nick’s hand. “It’ll be great!”
“He has absolutely know idea where you’re going does he? His fault.” Catherine snickered as she exited. Leaving Nick to deal with the hyper Greg. She was going to find Warrick.
Warrick had no idea what had gotten into Catherine. He had been talking to Archie about a security tape from a robbery, when she had come out of nowhere telling him she had know idea he was into that.
“Into what?” looking over at her, giving the look.
“You Know. You and Greg will have a great time, I just wish I could see it.” She smiled.
“See what?” He asked, starting to panic at the thought of where they were going.
“I just meant that I wish I could have gotten tickets for Lindsey. She loves them you know. Well, have a good time. Get autographs if you can.” She called from over her shoulder. With a wave she was gone.
“What the he-” He said trailing off at the look on Archie’s face. “You know. Where is it? If it made Cath’ act like that, I want to know. “ Warrick said, getting angry.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s right over there.“ Archie pointed, and when Warrick turned, he ran into the lab.
He jumped when he heard the door to the A/V lab slam. “Archie, you coward! You can’t hide in there forever. You have to go home sometime” He yelled through the glass walls.
“Problem, Warrick?” Grissom asked from his right.
“He knows.” Warrick hissed pointing into the A/V lab. “And he’s hiding. Like a coward.” He practically shouted the last part.
“Is this about where Greg is taking you? If you don‘t like it just talk to him. He‘s in the locker room with Nick.”
All Warrick could do was stare at his boss’s retreating back. How did every one else know where the hell he was going, when he didn’t? And why was no one else including Nick. It was a guys night out, so where was Nick going to be?
“He knows. That bastard is going to leave me with his boyfriend, all because he knows and doesn’t want to go.”
Not even a minute had passed before he was stalking into the locker room. He stopped in his tracks though, when he saw them wrapped around each other.
“Lucky prick.” He muttered under his breath, clearing his throat when he realized that they hadn’t heard him come in.
“Where.” Was all he said when they broke apart. He couldn’t help but feel that twinge at seeing them together.
‘I need to get laid badly if Sander‘s is doing it for me.’
“Where are we going, and why isn’t Nick coming with us.” He demanded while trying to shak off those feelings.
“You said it would just be a small club. Why did Cath’ ask for autographs if we’re just going to a club? Clubs mean music Greg.” He trailed off, finally understanding just what kind of club it could be. “If we’re going to see Manson, so help me they will never find your body Sander’s. You hear me?”
“It’s not Manson. We would have gone camping if it had been, I promise ya that.” Nick laughed. “Bring my Greggo home in one piece. Things that happen if you don’t, not good ‘Rick. Not good at all.” He said, patting him on the back. “See ya at home G.”
“Sit.” Greg ordered when they were alone. He handed Warrick some clothes, “Get dressed. I’ll meet you in my car.” He said, turning at the door he added, “Don’t complain. You don’t have to wear what I picked out. Be grateful ‘Rick.”
Warrick just sighed when he was alone once more, letting out a strangled yell when he saw just what he was supposed to put on.
Greg laughed all the way to the parking lot when he heard the yelp. It was going to be an interesting night. If it didn’t happen at the club, well, he’d just make sure something happened. Otherwise someone would end up killing Warrick. He needed some bad.
“Frankie, I’m horny…” Mikey practically wined, draping himself over the guitarist.
“Yeah, well I can’t help you. We gotta play a show now Mikeymouse, maybe after.” he laughed, patting his friend’s head as he huffed and pouted, staggering a little under his weight.
“Fine…”
The club they were playing was small and hot with packed bodies sweating and wearing themselves out in pits, making the atmosphere thick with cigarette smoke and the occasional joint. My Chemical Romance was third, they were moving up in the world, at least that’s what Ray said.
Mikey slung his bass on and peered around the door at the crowd, it was a bunch of the regular types of punks, rockers, a few emo kids. Though one hazy outline caught his eye, well, it was more the lack of movement that drew his attention. The figure was tall leaning back against the dingy wall, a hyper-looking guy tugging on his arm; trying to drag him into the pit. But the man was having none of it, Mikey would have kept on watching if his brother had not pulled him back in the room.
“It’s almost time to set up Mikey, drink this.” Gee handed him a bottle of water, knowing he got dehydrated quickly in the club heat.
Mikey took it, downing it in one, all thoughts of mystery guy fleeing his mind in wake of the impending set.
It happened every fucking time, the vibration from the amp and his bass. The sea of flowing bodies pressing-rubbing-sweating like an orgy that got off to the sounds they made. It always made Mikey hot and bothered, made him need contact that was more than rubbing up against his bass as they played.
At the after party it was no better, maybe even worse. ‘Cause he didn’t have anything to press against and Frank was being mean and not wanting to go have dirty sex in the bathroom. Mikey was seriously considering just having one off behind that fake plotted plant in the corner when he caught sight of Mr. Talldarkhandsome in low cut tight, black jeans. He was looking decidedly exasperated with the messy-brown haired man that was fanboying in his brother’s general direction. Mikey felt this was good enough a reason to edge his way over.
“Hey, you guys enjoy the show?” fuck, he was even sexier up close. Dark green low, v-neck that accentuated his bottle green eyes, full lips that begged to be kissed and by the looks of those pants something very nice hidden away.
“H-hi, I loved your set, and your band, and…” the other guy rambled on, but Mikey only had eyes for his friend, hopefully he was only a friend, though he was up for some three man action if that was what it took.
Mikey Way, martyr of the people.
“So,” he cut in at a tiny break in the other’s speech, “What’s you’re name?” he was looking directly at Mr. Talldarkhandsome, mentally urging the friend to take a hint and disappear. His powers of physic persuasion must have been better than he thought, ’cause the man got that knowing look and slipped away to gush some place else.
“Warrick.”
Mikey nodded, a smirk resting comfortably on his lips.
“Hello Warrick, I’m Mikey and I want to verb your noun.” he had never been one to draw things out with pointless small talk, it was so much easier to just go strait to the point.
Plus the guy was giving him a look that was pure sex.
He had been shocked to learn where they were going, and had nearly chickened out when Greg had shoved him into the crush of bodies moving to the music. He mentally slapped himself for thinking like that.
“Why’d you bring me here?” Warrick managed to shout over the music. When Greg didn’t answer him, he managed to extract the man and himself from the thrashing bodies.
“What?” Greg asked as he was pushed against a wall.
“I asked, why did you bring me here.” Warrick yelled. He had the feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer he got from the young lab tech.
“You’re going to get laid tonight. One way or the other!” Greg shouted back with his patented, I’m-not-doing-anything, Greggo smile.
“One way or the other? What the hell are you talking about?” Warrick knew that couldn’t be good, but he still didn’t know what ‘the other’ entailed.
“If you don’t get laid here, I have permission to take you home. I think I might have to put you in a swan, but Nick did agree to this. I’m pretty sure everyone did.”
“Everyone?” He actually want pale at hearing that.
“Yep. You need someone or something other than your right hand. Now, watch.” Greg commanded.
He felt oddly grateful, really pissed, but grateful. He knew he shouldn’t, but G was right. Someone or something other than his hand would be, nice, really good actually. Still pissed at what he had learned, Warrick ignored Greg’s attempt to get him on the floor again. He just leaned against the wall and watched.
All he really remembered from the show was the guy in the third set. Warrick had thought of everything he could to try and stop the excitement was coming on strong, old ladies, naked old ladies, naked old ladies on a cold day. But nothing had worked, because that guy was moving his hips with the music, he kept rolling them and making Warrick‘s mouth water with the need to bite-lick-caress.
He kept seeing those hips, and realized the reason he saw them so well now was because they, along with there owner, were standing right in front of them. That Greg was talking to him at no less than ten miles a second.
Greg was gone now though, had slipped away a second ago, not that Warrick noticed, ’cause the guy’s name was Mikey and verbing nouns was all he could think of.
They made their way, not so subtly, through the crowd and out a side door into the ally. It was filled with vans that he assumed stored various band’s equipment, but really he didn’t care ’cause lips were on his neck and hands were in his hair.
Mikey pushed them up against the dirty, brick wall, moving his suckling kisses from Warrick chocolaty colored throat up to those full lips, hungry and wanting. He grabbed at the wonderful dark curls and groaned as Warrick kissed back, hands slipping under the hem of his shirt and waistband of his jeans, squeezing and rubbing and ugh…
Mikey pressed closer, own hand wondering over well formed muscles and beautifully smooth skin. He broke the kiss, panting against swollen lips,
“I’m gonna get on my knees now, ’cause I want to taste you so fucking bad…”
Warrick let out a deep noise, pushing down on Mikey’s hips and nodding his assent. Mikey smirked and slid down his body, deftly undoing belt and button, pulling down jean with a well-practiced air.
His smile grew to rival that of the Cheshire Cat at the sight before him, Warrick was indeed a gifted man.
He licked a strip down his cock, looking up with heavy eyes though slightly fogged glasses; flicking the tip with his tongue. Hands fisted in his hair and Mikey stopped his teasing, swallowing him slowly, inch by splendid inch.
“Shit…”
Mikey would have smirked if his mouth wasn’t so preoccupied, so he just hummed and redoubled his efforts, loving the weight on his tongue and noises from above.
But soon he was being pulled up by the shoulders and Warrick was spinning them so he was pressed against the rough wall and deep kisses were ravishing his mouth. Teeth tugging on his bottom lip as dirty-dirty things were whispered. Things that made Mikey loath the need for pants in public places and franticly trying to get them the fuck off.
Warrick couldn’t wait for the smaller man to get his pants off, so he took matters into his own hands and started pushing the denim down his legs, not bothering with button or zipper. As soon as the task was accomplished he ripped Mikey’s shirt open, slowly spreading his hands along the pale skin underneath.
“Perfect.” Warrick moaned sliding his tongue down and against a pink nipple, before taking it into his mouth.
“More. Moremoremore.” Mikey said, tugging ‘Rick’s hair. “Together.” He whispered, pulling a small tube of lube and a condom from the pocket of his discarded jeans, like it was a perfectly thing for the thin man to be carrying around. Mikey had barely handed them over before he felt himself being twisted around, and a slicked finger enter him. Warrick felt the moan vibrate off the man as his digit started moving, soon joined by its brother.
“S’good, Warrick…fuck me, please.”
He chuckled quietly in the lithe boy’s ear, ripping open the tiny square package,
“Alright.”
Mikey rested his forehead on his arm, reaching up behind with the other to grab at curls. Pushing back on the fingers and almost wining in need.
Warrick wasted no more time, moving both hands to those oh-so-fuckable hips and granting the other’s wish in a most wonderful way.
It was fast and rough up against that wall, in the dirty ally with a hundred people parting on just the other side; barely hidden by a dark van and lack of lights. Mikey moaned and gasped and felt so goddamn good that he had to bite down on his neck to keep from coming too soon.
But it seemed the teeth on his throat was what did Mikey in, shuddering and squeezing around him; adding one more stain to the grungy ally wall. Giving some of the most orgasmic sounds Warrick had ever heard, and he couldn’t hold on after that. Coming hard and drawing blood, licking dark droplets away when he came back to earth.
Pulling away, he grinned, running a hand down pale skin, turned pink and red in places. Thinking that maybe he would let Greg pick where they went more often…maybe.
The next night at work everyone noticed the good mood Warrick was in.
“Someone got laid.” Hodges said to Archie when Warrick didn’t react to his comment.
“Good. He scared the crap out of me when he wasn’t getting any.” Archie told the annoying trace tech.
Warrick walked into the break room to grab his, very late, lunch.
“People eat here, guys.” He said when he saw Greg wrapped around Nick on one of the couches. But he smiled as he said it.
“So Warrick. Did you get the autographs?” Catherine asked from behind him.
And as for Mikey Way, he slept very well that night, and didn’t even wake up when Frankie and Bob started doing some very noisy after show activities quite near his sleeping form.
Author: ihrtangusyoung/ihrtkjr
Pairing: Mikey Way (My Chemical Romance) Warrick Brown (CSI)
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third
Summary: I want to verb your noun
Disclaimer: Just about as fake as you can get, I mean really, one of them isn’t even real.
Author Notes: This is a fic co-written by two people who have nothing better to do and a mild case of obsession with two completely different genres of fan-fiction. Please enjoy our insanity.
Beta: our selves.
Greg ran into the locker room, nearly knocking Catherine down in the process .
“Whoa. What’s the rush Greggo?” Nick asked from behind the young lab tech. “Hot date?” He chuckled.
“Me and Warrick are going to see MCR!!!” Greg practically yelled in his ear. “It’s gonna be great. We’ll see Gerard and Mikey and Ray and Frank and Bob…” He laughed, while evading Nick’s hand. “It’ll be great!”
“He has absolutely know idea where you’re going does he? His fault.” Catherine snickered as she exited. Leaving Nick to deal with the hyper Greg. She was going to find Warrick.
Warrick had no idea what had gotten into Catherine. He had been talking to Archie about a security tape from a robbery, when she had come out of nowhere telling him she had know idea he was into that.
“Into what?” looking over at her, giving the look.
“You Know. You and Greg will have a great time, I just wish I could see it.” She smiled.
“See what?” He asked, starting to panic at the thought of where they were going.
“I just meant that I wish I could have gotten tickets for Lindsey. She loves them you know. Well, have a good time. Get autographs if you can.” She called from over her shoulder. With a wave she was gone.
“What the he-” He said trailing off at the look on Archie’s face. “You know. Where is it? If it made Cath’ act like that, I want to know. “ Warrick said, getting angry.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself? He’s right over there.“ Archie pointed, and when Warrick turned, he ran into the lab.
He jumped when he heard the door to the A/V lab slam. “Archie, you coward! You can’t hide in there forever. You have to go home sometime” He yelled through the glass walls.
“Problem, Warrick?” Grissom asked from his right.
“He knows.” Warrick hissed pointing into the A/V lab. “And he’s hiding. Like a coward.” He practically shouted the last part.
“Is this about where Greg is taking you? If you don‘t like it just talk to him. He‘s in the locker room with Nick.”
All Warrick could do was stare at his boss’s retreating back. How did every one else know where the hell he was going, when he didn’t? And why was no one else including Nick. It was a guys night out, so where was Nick going to be?
“He knows. That bastard is going to leave me with his boyfriend, all because he knows and doesn’t want to go.”
Not even a minute had passed before he was stalking into the locker room. He stopped in his tracks though, when he saw them wrapped around each other.
“Lucky prick.” He muttered under his breath, clearing his throat when he realized that they hadn’t heard him come in.
“Where.” Was all he said when they broke apart. He couldn’t help but feel that twinge at seeing them together.
‘I need to get laid badly if Sander‘s is doing it for me.’
“Where are we going, and why isn’t Nick coming with us.” He demanded while trying to shak off those feelings.
“You said it would just be a small club. Why did Cath’ ask for autographs if we’re just going to a club? Clubs mean music Greg.” He trailed off, finally understanding just what kind of club it could be. “If we’re going to see Manson, so help me they will never find your body Sander’s. You hear me?”
“It’s not Manson. We would have gone camping if it had been, I promise ya that.” Nick laughed. “Bring my Greggo home in one piece. Things that happen if you don’t, not good ‘Rick. Not good at all.” He said, patting him on the back. “See ya at home G.”
“Sit.” Greg ordered when they were alone. He handed Warrick some clothes, “Get dressed. I’ll meet you in my car.” He said, turning at the door he added, “Don’t complain. You don’t have to wear what I picked out. Be grateful ‘Rick.”
Warrick just sighed when he was alone once more, letting out a strangled yell when he saw just what he was supposed to put on.
Greg laughed all the way to the parking lot when he heard the yelp. It was going to be an interesting night. If it didn’t happen at the club, well, he’d just make sure something happened. Otherwise someone would end up killing Warrick. He needed some bad.
“Frankie, I’m horny…” Mikey practically wined, draping himself over the guitarist.
“Yeah, well I can’t help you. We gotta play a show now Mikeymouse, maybe after.” he laughed, patting his friend’s head as he huffed and pouted, staggering a little under his weight.
“Fine…”
The club they were playing was small and hot with packed bodies sweating and wearing themselves out in pits, making the atmosphere thick with cigarette smoke and the occasional joint. My Chemical Romance was third, they were moving up in the world, at least that’s what Ray said.
Mikey slung his bass on and peered around the door at the crowd, it was a bunch of the regular types of punks, rockers, a few emo kids. Though one hazy outline caught his eye, well, it was more the lack of movement that drew his attention. The figure was tall leaning back against the dingy wall, a hyper-looking guy tugging on his arm; trying to drag him into the pit. But the man was having none of it, Mikey would have kept on watching if his brother had not pulled him back in the room.
“It’s almost time to set up Mikey, drink this.” Gee handed him a bottle of water, knowing he got dehydrated quickly in the club heat.
Mikey took it, downing it in one, all thoughts of mystery guy fleeing his mind in wake of the impending set.
It happened every fucking time, the vibration from the amp and his bass. The sea of flowing bodies pressing-rubbing-sweating like an orgy that got off to the sounds they made. It always made Mikey hot and bothered, made him need contact that was more than rubbing up against his bass as they played.
At the after party it was no better, maybe even worse. ‘Cause he didn’t have anything to press against and Frank was being mean and not wanting to go have dirty sex in the bathroom. Mikey was seriously considering just having one off behind that fake plotted plant in the corner when he caught sight of Mr. Talldarkhandsome in low cut tight, black jeans. He was looking decidedly exasperated with the messy-brown haired man that was fanboying in his brother’s general direction. Mikey felt this was good enough a reason to edge his way over.
“Hey, you guys enjoy the show?” fuck, he was even sexier up close. Dark green low, v-neck that accentuated his bottle green eyes, full lips that begged to be kissed and by the looks of those pants something very nice hidden away.
“H-hi, I loved your set, and your band, and…” the other guy rambled on, but Mikey only had eyes for his friend, hopefully he was only a friend, though he was up for some three man action if that was what it took.
Mikey Way, martyr of the people.
“So,” he cut in at a tiny break in the other’s speech, “What’s you’re name?” he was looking directly at Mr. Talldarkhandsome, mentally urging the friend to take a hint and disappear. His powers of physic persuasion must have been better than he thought, ’cause the man got that knowing look and slipped away to gush some place else.
“Warrick.”
Mikey nodded, a smirk resting comfortably on his lips.
“Hello Warrick, I’m Mikey and I want to verb your noun.” he had never been one to draw things out with pointless small talk, it was so much easier to just go strait to the point.
Plus the guy was giving him a look that was pure sex.
He had been shocked to learn where they were going, and had nearly chickened out when Greg had shoved him into the crush of bodies moving to the music. He mentally slapped himself for thinking like that.
“Why’d you bring me here?” Warrick managed to shout over the music. When Greg didn’t answer him, he managed to extract the man and himself from the thrashing bodies.
“What?” Greg asked as he was pushed against a wall.
“I asked, why did you bring me here.” Warrick yelled. He had the feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer he got from the young lab tech.
“You’re going to get laid tonight. One way or the other!” Greg shouted back with his patented, I’m-not-doing-anything, Greggo smile.
“One way or the other? What the hell are you talking about?” Warrick knew that couldn’t be good, but he still didn’t know what ‘the other’ entailed.
“If you don’t get laid here, I have permission to take you home. I think I might have to put you in a swan, but Nick did agree to this. I’m pretty sure everyone did.”
“Everyone?” He actually want pale at hearing that.
“Yep. You need someone or something other than your right hand. Now, watch.” Greg commanded.
He felt oddly grateful, really pissed, but grateful. He knew he shouldn’t, but G was right. Someone or something other than his hand would be, nice, really good actually. Still pissed at what he had learned, Warrick ignored Greg’s attempt to get him on the floor again. He just leaned against the wall and watched.
All he really remembered from the show was the guy in the third set. Warrick had thought of everything he could to try and stop the excitement was coming on strong, old ladies, naked old ladies, naked old ladies on a cold day. But nothing had worked, because that guy was moving his hips with the music, he kept rolling them and making Warrick‘s mouth water with the need to bite-lick-caress.
He kept seeing those hips, and realized the reason he saw them so well now was because they, along with there owner, were standing right in front of them. That Greg was talking to him at no less than ten miles a second.
Greg was gone now though, had slipped away a second ago, not that Warrick noticed, ’cause the guy’s name was Mikey and verbing nouns was all he could think of.
They made their way, not so subtly, through the crowd and out a side door into the ally. It was filled with vans that he assumed stored various band’s equipment, but really he didn’t care ’cause lips were on his neck and hands were in his hair.
Mikey pushed them up against the dirty, brick wall, moving his suckling kisses from Warrick chocolaty colored throat up to those full lips, hungry and wanting. He grabbed at the wonderful dark curls and groaned as Warrick kissed back, hands slipping under the hem of his shirt and waistband of his jeans, squeezing and rubbing and ugh…
Mikey pressed closer, own hand wondering over well formed muscles and beautifully smooth skin. He broke the kiss, panting against swollen lips,
“I’m gonna get on my knees now, ’cause I want to taste you so fucking bad…”
Warrick let out a deep noise, pushing down on Mikey’s hips and nodding his assent. Mikey smirked and slid down his body, deftly undoing belt and button, pulling down jean with a well-practiced air.
His smile grew to rival that of the Cheshire Cat at the sight before him, Warrick was indeed a gifted man.
He licked a strip down his cock, looking up with heavy eyes though slightly fogged glasses; flicking the tip with his tongue. Hands fisted in his hair and Mikey stopped his teasing, swallowing him slowly, inch by splendid inch.
“Shit…”
Mikey would have smirked if his mouth wasn’t so preoccupied, so he just hummed and redoubled his efforts, loving the weight on his tongue and noises from above.
But soon he was being pulled up by the shoulders and Warrick was spinning them so he was pressed against the rough wall and deep kisses were ravishing his mouth. Teeth tugging on his bottom lip as dirty-dirty things were whispered. Things that made Mikey loath the need for pants in public places and franticly trying to get them the fuck off.
Warrick couldn’t wait for the smaller man to get his pants off, so he took matters into his own hands and started pushing the denim down his legs, not bothering with button or zipper. As soon as the task was accomplished he ripped Mikey’s shirt open, slowly spreading his hands along the pale skin underneath.
“Perfect.” Warrick moaned sliding his tongue down and against a pink nipple, before taking it into his mouth.
“More. Moremoremore.” Mikey said, tugging ‘Rick’s hair. “Together.” He whispered, pulling a small tube of lube and a condom from the pocket of his discarded jeans, like it was a perfectly thing for the thin man to be carrying around. Mikey had barely handed them over before he felt himself being twisted around, and a slicked finger enter him. Warrick felt the moan vibrate off the man as his digit started moving, soon joined by its brother.
“S’good, Warrick…fuck me, please.”
He chuckled quietly in the lithe boy’s ear, ripping open the tiny square package,
“Alright.”
Mikey rested his forehead on his arm, reaching up behind with the other to grab at curls. Pushing back on the fingers and almost wining in need.
Warrick wasted no more time, moving both hands to those oh-so-fuckable hips and granting the other’s wish in a most wonderful way.
It was fast and rough up against that wall, in the dirty ally with a hundred people parting on just the other side; barely hidden by a dark van and lack of lights. Mikey moaned and gasped and felt so goddamn good that he had to bite down on his neck to keep from coming too soon.
But it seemed the teeth on his throat was what did Mikey in, shuddering and squeezing around him; adding one more stain to the grungy ally wall. Giving some of the most orgasmic sounds Warrick had ever heard, and he couldn’t hold on after that. Coming hard and drawing blood, licking dark droplets away when he came back to earth.
Pulling away, he grinned, running a hand down pale skin, turned pink and red in places. Thinking that maybe he would let Greg pick where they went more often…maybe.
The next night at work everyone noticed the good mood Warrick was in.
“Someone got laid.” Hodges said to Archie when Warrick didn’t react to his comment.
“Good. He scared the crap out of me when he wasn’t getting any.” Archie told the annoying trace tech.
Warrick walked into the break room to grab his, very late, lunch.
“People eat here, guys.” He said when he saw Greg wrapped around Nick on one of the couches. But he smiled as he said it.
“So Warrick. Did you get the autographs?” Catherine asked from behind him.
And as for Mikey Way, he slept very well that night, and didn’t even wake up when Frankie and Bob started doing some very noisy after show activities quite near his sleeping form.