The Boy in a Skirt 9
Title: The Boy in a Skirt [9/?]
Author: ohvick
Pairing: Mikey/Frank (mostly)
Rating: PG-13 - R
POV: Mikey
Summary: This is a story of the evil that exists right under our very noses, and the consequences of falling in love…with a boy in a skirt.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these people. Just the plot.
Author Notes: wrote this last year. never finished. hope to finish :D
Dedication: Kristina. you started this. and to all of you who read this, because without you, i'd be writing for nothing.
Beta: jujuroo
Warnings: over brotherly affection, implied pedophilia for this chapter
chapter 1|2|3|4|5|6| 7| 8
I punched at his head; my arm swung forward, and I kicked and hit…nothing. For a second I thought he’d dodged my attacks, disappeared again. But when my eyes opened, I remembered it had been a nightmare, and I was fighting a comforter. Embarrassed, I rubbed my temples, feeling a sheen of cold sweat. I cursed myself for being stupid and confused, like always. The nightmare replayed over and over in my head. I don’t know if it was fully subconscious either.
I groaned and then punched my pillow. What was this new feeling? Anger for Gerard? My brother. He said he’d fucked Frank. My Frank. My sweet Frank who…I’m in love with. Oh, I was in love.
…In love?
What?! I’m in love with the boy who’s been plaguing my dreams…I sound like a crazy person.
Shit…I’m an idiot. I laughed. I actually laughed.
No. I was not in love. Those were dreams. It was a nightmare and no more than that.
How had I let something so insignificant such as dreams become such a big part of my life? I had let it, that’s how.
I knew that it was all my imagination, and that it did not exist. I knew that I’d wake up and continue my real life where I left off. I knew that when I’d wake up, my dreams and nightmares would just become another filed memory, stored away forever.
I decided to leave it at that. What’s the point of caring about something that’s not even real? I couldn’t believe how foolish I’d been acting.
Rays of dawn shown through the window near me. It burned my eyes before I blinked it away. Slipping out of bed, I padded across the carpeted floor. Now where’s the bathroom? Ok think, Mikey, I told myself. If I was a bathroom…where would I be? I settled for a door adjacent to mine and turned the knob. Peering in through the crack, I found that it was not the bathroom.
It was another bedroom. Gerard’s bedroom, I bet. I entered, deciding to do some exploring. Who was he? Were we really close brothers? Did he look the same as the guy in my nightmares? Did he act the same? I needed to find out.
The room was…neat. Simple. Perfect, like from an interior design magazine- but printed in black and white. The walls were a drab, smoke tone. Gave me a “blah” feeling. Not much, but better than the empty, nasty feeling from the stained, green tones in the nightmare. Having a closer look, I could see big rectangular outlines on the walls, as if something had been there for a long time, but was removed for some reason.
A black clothed bed in the corner, a closet door across from it, a Mac sat on a dark, wooden desk. An ordinary room, but it was missing something.
Life. Yes, it’s sad.
I didn’t feel anything at all. I don’t know if it was either because I pushed it away or just couldn’t grasp it. Couldn’t handle it? Was I making too big of a deal with it?
I fingered the chair in front of the desk. He used to sit there. Right there. I imagined him typing on the keyboard-something, anything. It didn’t matter. The screen would reflect in his dark eyes, brightening them. He’d be concentrating hard, or smiling and laughing at a joke a friend just instant messaged him. Would he have shared the joke with me? Would I have been right there, laying on his bed while he downloaded and played music for us both to listen? Or would we stay in our own rooms? Speak to each other only when needed and bite each other’s head off when we got angry. I decided to choose the first option for this imagery.
I found myself on his bed, cradling the pillow under my head. No, I wasn’t crying. I wouldn’t have been shocked if I did though. I was thinking. Dreaming- no, enough dreams. I was imagining. Alone, silent, free to finally breath. It was like dreaming, only conscious. Exactly what I needed. Everything was just right how it was…for now, I thought. But that was okay.
I felt the lightest touch on my cheek. Vaguely, I thought of the slap. Harsh, yet held back. And how Gerard had caressed it soothingly, like a good brother should. And I knew he was there. I saw him sitting on the desk chair, back facing me. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I just- you know how I get.” It sounded like he felt really bad.
I couldn’t help but smile at the way he’d always apologize, even though he knew I’d forgive him for any bad he’d done. No matter how many times he’d done it. He couldn’t help it, anyway. I didn’t have to ask why, though. For some reason, I knew but didn’t speak it and didn’t want to hear it.
“Gerard.” He turned his spinning chair around. His eyes glinted when he saw me.
“You’re beautiful.” Frank said that too. “Can I take a picture of you?” He gestured to his Canon, the strap slung around his neck.
I groaned, hiding my head under the pillow. “No…you have tons already. And don’t call me beautiful like I’m your girlfriend.” My voice was muffled a little.
“Oh, but Lyn-z thinks so too.” His voice got nearer and nearer until he was above me. “You know what she told me?”
“…what?” I peeked out from under the pillow. He laid on his side next to me.
He grinned, “She told me her favorite thing about you…,” He pulled the pillow away from my face and tossed it aside, “is your smile.”
When I didn’t say anything, he continued speaking in that smooth, caring tone. “She says you’re always smiling, you know that? Even when you don’t know it. Even when you’re sad. It’s this little curve.”
I turned my face away from his. “It’s a defect.”
“It’s a gift.
“I don’t like it.”
“I love it.”
“It makes me look…retarded. And it twitches.”
He laughed. “Oh, that’s classic.”
“Sto-op.” I whined and covered my mouth, hiding a smile ready to crack.
“No you stop. This is you and your special, unique quality. Learn to love it. It’s the most beautiful thing.”
I eyed him strangely. “Hey, that’s just what she said.” He shrugged it off, but I knew better. I knew he meant it himself. I could see, by the close proximity, the way his eyes had a dazed look, the way his tongue wetted his lips briefly.
“Okay, you can tell her I said thanks.” His face saddened, and he looked downward. “Oh…you can’t.” I stated quietly.
He nodded. “Not anymore.”
“C-can you tell me? How did you die?” My eyes watered as I stared into his.
He shook his head. “That’s not important.”
How could he say such a thing. This is his death we’re talking about. And he claims it’s not important! “What? Why?! I don’t understand. You are important to me. I want to know, Gerard. I need to know ev-everything.” I was crying more than I ever remembered crying.
“Shh, shh,” He patted my hair lovingly. “You’re important to me too. But it’s not safe, Mikey. Trust me.”
“What’s not safe?”
“Just promise me you won’t look into this. Nothing good will come of it if you do. Believe me when I say that it’s not important.” He spoke clearly. And I understood. Nevertheless, I was fueled to find out why even more.
“Mikey, I’m thinking you’re going to do the exact opposite, am I right?”
Busted. “Yes, but how can you blame me for wanting to know?”
He kissed my head. “I don’t blame you, little brother. I don’t want you getting hurt. The past is…it’s bad. Trust me. You’ll regret ever wanting to know. Please understand. Please tell me that you’ll promise.”
“…”
“Mikey,” He warned, “Promise me.”
“I-I promise.” I mumbled defeated.
“Good. And you better not be lying to me. ‘Cause if you are then that means you don’t really trust and love me. That would break my heart.”
“No, I’d never do that.” My brother- he loves me. That’s all I needed to know. He smiled and kissed my forehead. Silence drifted in after that. Then something popped in my head. I didn’t know if it was okay to ask. “Gerard…?” He replied with a little “hm”. “I had a nightmare with you in it. And you knew my- a friend of mine. Frank Iero. Do you really know him?”
I felt him take a deep breath and exhale. His breath puffed up my hair. Chuckling. “A nightmare you say? What am I doing in your nightmares?”
He was avoiding my question. “I don’t know, you were just…there. So, do you know Frank?” I lifted my head to look at him in the eye.
His frowned expression gave it away. He did know Frank and was worried that I‘d find out. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Liar, “Really?”
“Mikey….These dreams- they aren’t real.” That’s all the answer I needed. I nodded. Discussion was over.
I snuggled into his chest, taking in his scent, his heat, his heartbeat. I could feel both of our heartbeats, each beating to its own rhythm. I couldn’t tell which was faster. He continued to kiss and hold me lovingly. No brothers shared the same love as we did. I just knew it. I closed my eyes.
Good things end too soon for me. There was a loud knock where I’d left the door open. Gerard was gone. I was alone again, with my mother. My eyes widened. There she was, standing under the doorway, looking infuriated. “What are you doing here?!”
“I-I w-was talking to Gerard-”
“I don’t care. You don’t belong here! Get out! GET OUT!” I jumped up off the bed and scurried out of the room. I watched her as she frantically began to straighten out the bed sheets, fix the pillows. All the while, mumbling to herself.
“Mikey,” It was Gerard. He stood at the top of the stairs. “Remember your promise.” I glanced briefly at our deranged mother, then turned back to him. He was gone, again.
“YOU!” She strode to me, a bony finger pointing at me. “You insolent, little brat!”
I ran past her and into the sanctuary of my own room and locked the door. I could hear her screaming at me through the door, “I never want you in there again, you understand me?” She continued to rant for what seemed like forever until she felt I deserved enough and then her voice faded in a huff.
I exhaled audibly what breath I didn’t know I was holding. I looked down. There in my hands was the camera. My brother’s camera. I hugged it and wished I knew more. Wished I could find out more, but knew I couldn’t. I thought of him- how he kissed me, hugged me. Such a close, touchy brother. I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. Gerard loved me, dearly. With that thought alone, I truly felt happy and decided my past did not matter as much as I thought.
***
Author: ohvick
Pairing: Mikey/Frank (mostly)
Rating: PG-13 - R
POV: Mikey
Summary: This is a story of the evil that exists right under our very noses, and the consequences of falling in love…with a boy in a skirt.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these people. Just the plot.
Author Notes: wrote this last year. never finished. hope to finish :D
Dedication: Kristina. you started this. and to all of you who read this, because without you, i'd be writing for nothing.
Beta: jujuroo
Warnings: over brotherly affection, implied pedophilia for this chapter
chapter 1|2|3|4|5|6| 7| 8
I punched at his head; my arm swung forward, and I kicked and hit…nothing. For a second I thought he’d dodged my attacks, disappeared again. But when my eyes opened, I remembered it had been a nightmare, and I was fighting a comforter. Embarrassed, I rubbed my temples, feeling a sheen of cold sweat. I cursed myself for being stupid and confused, like always. The nightmare replayed over and over in my head. I don’t know if it was fully subconscious either.
I groaned and then punched my pillow. What was this new feeling? Anger for Gerard? My brother. He said he’d fucked Frank. My Frank. My sweet Frank who…I’m in love with. Oh, I was in love.
…In love?
What?! I’m in love with the boy who’s been plaguing my dreams…I sound like a crazy person.
Shit…I’m an idiot. I laughed. I actually laughed.
No. I was not in love. Those were dreams. It was a nightmare and no more than that.
How had I let something so insignificant such as dreams become such a big part of my life? I had let it, that’s how.
I knew that it was all my imagination, and that it did not exist. I knew that I’d wake up and continue my real life where I left off. I knew that when I’d wake up, my dreams and nightmares would just become another filed memory, stored away forever.
I decided to leave it at that. What’s the point of caring about something that’s not even real? I couldn’t believe how foolish I’d been acting.
Rays of dawn shown through the window near me. It burned my eyes before I blinked it away. Slipping out of bed, I padded across the carpeted floor. Now where’s the bathroom? Ok think, Mikey, I told myself. If I was a bathroom…where would I be? I settled for a door adjacent to mine and turned the knob. Peering in through the crack, I found that it was not the bathroom.
It was another bedroom. Gerard’s bedroom, I bet. I entered, deciding to do some exploring. Who was he? Were we really close brothers? Did he look the same as the guy in my nightmares? Did he act the same? I needed to find out.
The room was…neat. Simple. Perfect, like from an interior design magazine- but printed in black and white. The walls were a drab, smoke tone. Gave me a “blah” feeling. Not much, but better than the empty, nasty feeling from the stained, green tones in the nightmare. Having a closer look, I could see big rectangular outlines on the walls, as if something had been there for a long time, but was removed for some reason.
A black clothed bed in the corner, a closet door across from it, a Mac sat on a dark, wooden desk. An ordinary room, but it was missing something.
Life. Yes, it’s sad.
I didn’t feel anything at all. I don’t know if it was either because I pushed it away or just couldn’t grasp it. Couldn’t handle it? Was I making too big of a deal with it?
I fingered the chair in front of the desk. He used to sit there. Right there. I imagined him typing on the keyboard-something, anything. It didn’t matter. The screen would reflect in his dark eyes, brightening them. He’d be concentrating hard, or smiling and laughing at a joke a friend just instant messaged him. Would he have shared the joke with me? Would I have been right there, laying on his bed while he downloaded and played music for us both to listen? Or would we stay in our own rooms? Speak to each other only when needed and bite each other’s head off when we got angry. I decided to choose the first option for this imagery.
I found myself on his bed, cradling the pillow under my head. No, I wasn’t crying. I wouldn’t have been shocked if I did though. I was thinking. Dreaming- no, enough dreams. I was imagining. Alone, silent, free to finally breath. It was like dreaming, only conscious. Exactly what I needed. Everything was just right how it was…for now, I thought. But that was okay.
I felt the lightest touch on my cheek. Vaguely, I thought of the slap. Harsh, yet held back. And how Gerard had caressed it soothingly, like a good brother should. And I knew he was there. I saw him sitting on the desk chair, back facing me. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I just- you know how I get.” It sounded like he felt really bad.
I couldn’t help but smile at the way he’d always apologize, even though he knew I’d forgive him for any bad he’d done. No matter how many times he’d done it. He couldn’t help it, anyway. I didn’t have to ask why, though. For some reason, I knew but didn’t speak it and didn’t want to hear it.
“Gerard.” He turned his spinning chair around. His eyes glinted when he saw me.
“You’re beautiful.” Frank said that too. “Can I take a picture of you?” He gestured to his Canon, the strap slung around his neck.
I groaned, hiding my head under the pillow. “No…you have tons already. And don’t call me beautiful like I’m your girlfriend.” My voice was muffled a little.
“Oh, but Lyn-z thinks so too.” His voice got nearer and nearer until he was above me. “You know what she told me?”
“…what?” I peeked out from under the pillow. He laid on his side next to me.
He grinned, “She told me her favorite thing about you…,” He pulled the pillow away from my face and tossed it aside, “is your smile.”
When I didn’t say anything, he continued speaking in that smooth, caring tone. “She says you’re always smiling, you know that? Even when you don’t know it. Even when you’re sad. It’s this little curve.”
I turned my face away from his. “It’s a defect.”
“It’s a gift.
“I don’t like it.”
“I love it.”
“It makes me look…retarded. And it twitches.”
He laughed. “Oh, that’s classic.”
“Sto-op.” I whined and covered my mouth, hiding a smile ready to crack.
“No you stop. This is you and your special, unique quality. Learn to love it. It’s the most beautiful thing.”
I eyed him strangely. “Hey, that’s just what she said.” He shrugged it off, but I knew better. I knew he meant it himself. I could see, by the close proximity, the way his eyes had a dazed look, the way his tongue wetted his lips briefly.
“Okay, you can tell her I said thanks.” His face saddened, and he looked downward. “Oh…you can’t.” I stated quietly.
He nodded. “Not anymore.”
“C-can you tell me? How did you die?” My eyes watered as I stared into his.
He shook his head. “That’s not important.”
How could he say such a thing. This is his death we’re talking about. And he claims it’s not important! “What? Why?! I don’t understand. You are important to me. I want to know, Gerard. I need to know ev-everything.” I was crying more than I ever remembered crying.
“Shh, shh,” He patted my hair lovingly. “You’re important to me too. But it’s not safe, Mikey. Trust me.”
“What’s not safe?”
“Just promise me you won’t look into this. Nothing good will come of it if you do. Believe me when I say that it’s not important.” He spoke clearly. And I understood. Nevertheless, I was fueled to find out why even more.
“Mikey, I’m thinking you’re going to do the exact opposite, am I right?”
Busted. “Yes, but how can you blame me for wanting to know?”
He kissed my head. “I don’t blame you, little brother. I don’t want you getting hurt. The past is…it’s bad. Trust me. You’ll regret ever wanting to know. Please understand. Please tell me that you’ll promise.”
“…”
“Mikey,” He warned, “Promise me.”
“I-I promise.” I mumbled defeated.
“Good. And you better not be lying to me. ‘Cause if you are then that means you don’t really trust and love me. That would break my heart.”
“No, I’d never do that.” My brother- he loves me. That’s all I needed to know. He smiled and kissed my forehead. Silence drifted in after that. Then something popped in my head. I didn’t know if it was okay to ask. “Gerard…?” He replied with a little “hm”. “I had a nightmare with you in it. And you knew my- a friend of mine. Frank Iero. Do you really know him?”
I felt him take a deep breath and exhale. His breath puffed up my hair. Chuckling. “A nightmare you say? What am I doing in your nightmares?”
He was avoiding my question. “I don’t know, you were just…there. So, do you know Frank?” I lifted my head to look at him in the eye.
His frowned expression gave it away. He did know Frank and was worried that I‘d find out. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Liar, “Really?”
“Mikey….These dreams- they aren’t real.” That’s all the answer I needed. I nodded. Discussion was over.
I snuggled into his chest, taking in his scent, his heat, his heartbeat. I could feel both of our heartbeats, each beating to its own rhythm. I couldn’t tell which was faster. He continued to kiss and hold me lovingly. No brothers shared the same love as we did. I just knew it. I closed my eyes.
Good things end too soon for me. There was a loud knock where I’d left the door open. Gerard was gone. I was alone again, with my mother. My eyes widened. There she was, standing under the doorway, looking infuriated. “What are you doing here?!”
“I-I w-was talking to Gerard-”
“I don’t care. You don’t belong here! Get out! GET OUT!” I jumped up off the bed and scurried out of the room. I watched her as she frantically began to straighten out the bed sheets, fix the pillows. All the while, mumbling to herself.
“Mikey,” It was Gerard. He stood at the top of the stairs. “Remember your promise.” I glanced briefly at our deranged mother, then turned back to him. He was gone, again.
“YOU!” She strode to me, a bony finger pointing at me. “You insolent, little brat!”
I ran past her and into the sanctuary of my own room and locked the door. I could hear her screaming at me through the door, “I never want you in there again, you understand me?” She continued to rant for what seemed like forever until she felt I deserved enough and then her voice faded in a huff.
I exhaled audibly what breath I didn’t know I was holding. I looked down. There in my hands was the camera. My brother’s camera. I hugged it and wished I knew more. Wished I could find out more, but knew I couldn’t. I thought of him- how he kissed me, hugged me. Such a close, touchy brother. I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. Gerard loved me, dearly. With that thought alone, I truly felt happy and decided my past did not matter as much as I thought.
***