Urban battle songs (are about love)
~8~
~+~
Ryan's the one that opens the door and Gerard shouldn't be surprised, because he knows that Ryan is living with Brendon, but he somehow is nevertheless.
“Hi,” he says.
“Come in,” Ryan answers making room for him. “Brendon's in the shower.”
“Okay.” He feels a bit awkward. They haven't spoken since the day at Starbucks and that was five days ago. Mainly it's because Gerard's busy and he was being busy out of town. He still doesn't know what's wrong with Emilie except that she doesn't seem ill. She just seems to be human again and that’s good news, of course, but it still freaks them all out and that's why he needs Brendon. Brendon has to drive to Chicago and confirm it. If death is still lurking around, he will feel it. If death isn't, well . . . he has no idea, but he will figure it out.
“Want some coffee while you wait?” Ryan asks, he is stroking one long pale finger over a frog's back and Gerard's eyes are fixed to that movement. “Gerard?” and there is amusement in his voice. He looks up and into Ryan's face.
“Yeah, please,” he answers.
Ryan puts the frog - it must be Shakespeare as Brendon is whining about how Shakespeare loves Ryan more - in the pocket of his hoodie - which is totally Brendon's - and goes over to the small kitchen to make coffee. Gerard takes out his pack of cigarettes and lights one. He feels nervous and out of place, like something is watching him. He just can't put his finger on it yet. It might be Ryan. Everything about this situation with Ryan, and Mikey, is fucked up. He inhales deep and sighs. Ryan's back with his coffee as Brendon comes out of the bathroom in just a towel. Gerard thinks he's being punished for something he did in a former life maybe.
“You're early!” Brendon says, water is dripping down his neck and the curve of his shoulder and . . . Gerard isn't looking any farther down.
“You're late,” he answers.
“Sorry, but I got held up at work,” Brendon says, shrugging. “You've seen my green t-shirt?” he asks turning to look at Ryan.
“Under the couch cushions where you left it yesterday.”
“Right!” Brendon says, beaming. Gerard wonders if they're sleeping with each other. He isn't sure he wants to know. He's busying himself with his coffee while Brendon is putting on clothes in his living room. “I think I left my socks in the bedroom?” he says and Ryan rolls his eyes, but he goes over to get them. There are things Gerard wants to ask and he thinks he needs to apologize to Ryan again, but doesn't think now is the best time for it. He's pretty sure Ryan didn't tell Brendon about the Starbucks incident. “Thanks!” he says when Ryan throws his socks at him.
“Whatever. When will you be back?” he asks.
“Sunday evening; have work on Monday,” Brendon says with a look to Gerard. Gerard nods his head. Yeah. They should be back by Sunday. He finishes his coffee as Brendon finishes dressing.
“So, have a nice weekend?” Ryan says, touching Brendon's arm.
“Take care of Mozart and Shakespeare and go over to Mikey's for dinner on Saturday, yeah? So he doesn't feel alone. I texted him you would,” Brendon says.
“When?”
“In the bathroom,” Brendon answers with a smirk and then hugs Ryan and Ryan hugs back. “Don't make me a liar.”
“Okay,” Ryan answers. Brendon lets go of him and grabs his coat and Gerard gets up from the couch and does the same.
“Bye,” he says and Ryan nods with a small smile.
Gerard breaths in deeply when they're outside again. The spring air is still really cold and it burns his lungs a bit, but he doesn't care. He isn't sure he likes the idea of Mikey being alone with Ryan, but, on the other hand, it's Mikey. He knows how to take care of himself.
“You okay?” Brendon asks and he's frowning.
“Don't know; yeah . . . I guess? Sometimes this shit really gets to me,” Gerard answers, opening the car door.
“This shit always gets to you, Gerard,” Brendon says, sliding into the seat. Yes, of course, he thinks, but doesn't comment on it. He switches the radio on and starts the car.
~+~
Mikey doesn't really expect Ryan to come over for dinner on Saturday, but he cooks for two nevertheless. It's habit by now anyway.
He's putting his hollandaise sauce aside as the bell rings. It's kind of a perfect timing. He smiles.
“Hi,” Ryan says, he's wearing a bright orange scarf with his black jacket and Mikey is reminded of Halloween.
He smiles as he lets Ryan in. “Didn't think you would come.”
“I can't make Brendon a liar,” Ryan answers, following him into the kitchen.
“Sure,” Mikey says, shrugging.
“This smells really good,” Ryan says, sitting down.
“Thanks,” he doesn't know what else to say. It's Gerard who does the talking and he . . . well, he's just Mikey and there is nothing wrong with that. They eat in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. And after dinner Mikey makes coffee and puts cake on plates and they go over to the living room.
“Tastes good,” Ryan says between bites.
“Thanks, want to watch something particular?”
“No, anything is fine,” Ryan answers. Mikey switches the TV to MTV and sips his coffee.
“So . . . you're shaking up Gerard's world, hmmm?” he says after fifteen minutes of silence.
“What?”
“With being his model."
“Oh yeah, he asked . . ."
“I know,” Mikey says and hopes Ryan gets the meaning. Ryan does. “He didn't do it on purpose,” Mikey says.
“I guess, but it's too late now.” Ryan's playing with the last small piece of cake on his plate.
“For what?” Mikey wants to know.
“Taking it back?”
“He wouldn't mind.”
“I want to do it- I . . .” he trails off.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Did you really sell your body?”
“It's not like I was standing under a street-lamp wearing practically nothing!” Ryan says, sharply.
“That's not what I said, or asked.”
“I guess . . . even if there usually wasn't any money exchanged,” Ryan answers. He doesn't sound ashamed, just resigned. Mikey nods. He kind of knew that.
~+~
“She has a cold,” is the first thing Bob says as he opens the door and then: “Hi!”
“Hi, Bob,” Brendon says, waving a little.
“Come in, she's in the living room.” Bob ushers them in and when they enter the living room Emilie waves and then coughs.
“I can't remember ever being this ill,” she says with a soft smile. Brendon thinks she still looks really beautiful. Her red hair is in a ponytail and she is huddled under a mountain of blankets, like any other person would be. The thing is, she is not any other person. She is Emilie who, can't die. She also doesn't get sick.
“You want something to drink?” Bob asks. Gerard nods. Brendon does as well. He isn't sure he wants to touch her. The last time wasn't too pleasant. He sits down next to her and she smiles at him.
“I think I'm slowly turning human again,” she says. He nods, he thinks that as well. The dark around her isn't that solid anymore, like death isn't sure he wants her still. He takes a deep breath and takes her hand in his. He's immediately surrounded by humid earth and darkness. He pushes past it and the rising panic, he doesn't even know how he does it. The hovering presence behind her is death and he doesn't look. Death seems to follow her recurrently like he isn't sure anymore. There is still something about her that he wants, but it's fading.
He gasps and lets go of her hand.
“You okay, Brendon?” Gerard asks.
He nods; he isn't sure he is, but he nods.
“So, what is wrong with her?” Bob asks.
“She's human. I mean, she's getting there and death seems kind of distracted . . . I can't really explain it and I can't say why, but she isn't cursed anymore,” Brendon says.
“You look pale,” Emilie says and sneezes. “Sorry.”
“It's normal,” Bob say, handing her a handkerchief with a smile.
“Thank you,” she answers. “So, I'm not cursed anymore?”
“I think so, but I can't say why . . .” Brendon says.
“My curse is slowly fading, but why now?”
“Did it happen suddenly?” Gerard asks.
“It's slowly fading, Gerard . . .” Bob says.
“I know but did something unusual happen before it started?”
“No.”
“When did it start?”
“Two weeks ago, maybe?” she muses.
“Hmmm,” Bob nods.
“And there was nothing?” Gerard asks again.
“No, business as usual.”
“Still, something must have caused it,” Gerard says. Bob nods.
Brendon is looking at Emilie, even ill like that she seems so much happier than the last time he saw her.
He smiles at her and she smiles back.
~+~
Brendon looks exhausted when he comes back Sunday evening. Ryan puts the guitar aside and gets up from the couch. Brendon smiles at him.
“And?” he asks. It's not that he really believes that Brendon is cursed, but since he is living here he learned that this stuff is serious business for them all.
“Her curse is slowly fading,” Brendon says. Ryan doesn't know how she was cursed or what the curse did to her, he doesn't want to know these things.
“But?” Ryan asks.
“I think it's more like it's transferring,” Brendon answers, sitting down on the couch.
“Where?”
“Don't know . . . someone else?” Brendon says, he doesn't know how he knows these things, he just does and death seemed to wait for something or someone.
“But why?” Ryan is standing in the kitchen making tea and a sandwich for Brendon.
“I don't know! I just know things since I drank that poison okay? I just- And sometimes I can feel what happened to someone . . .” he adds and Ryan freezes.
“Did you know when you took me home?“ Ryan asks, turning around; knife still in hand and tomato juice dripping on the floor. “Did you?” he demands.
“No . . . Yeah, I had a sense of something awful happening to you, but I don't know what.” Brendon looks stricken.
“Oh,” Ryan says, breathing easier.
“It's not because of that that I took you in . . .” Brendon says. “It's not because of that that I didn't kick you out,” he adds with a smile.
“It's because Shakespeare loves me,” Ryan answers.
“Yeah, it's because of that,” Brendon says with a grin. “You know, you can tell me.”
“I know,” Ryan says, turning around to the tomato.
~+~
Mikey is smoking on the small balcony of his bedroom and thinking things through. Until now nothing bad happened. So maybe he, or they, did something to prevent the dream from coming true, without even knowing it. Doesn't seem likely, but stranger things have happened. He inhales deeply and lets the smoke burn his lungs.
Gerard is in the studio painting a portrait of Ryan. Naked. And Mikey really doesn't want to think about it, but it's really difficult when you know what Ryan sounds like when he's about to come. He's glad Gerard doesn't know that just yet and maybe never will, even if that future is unlikely as well.
He flips the butt onto the grass in the backyard and contemplates lighting a new one when a noise from downstairs stops him dead in his tracks, his fingers curling hard around the balustrade.
Could be anything, but it sounds like bodies colliding against the door with great force.
He sighs and goes downstairs.
~+~
He honestly doesn't know how he finds himself pressed against the door with a naked Ryan kissing him breathlessly. The doorknob is digging painfully into his back. He doesn't care. He's wanted to feel Ryan's lips against his own from the first time he saw him, what he wants more is to feel Ryan's fingers against his skin, bracketing his hips maybe.
“God,” he says and Ryan grins against his lips, his hips digging into Gerard's. Gerard lets one hand slide down Ryan's thigh and feels him shiver and press even closer, rubbing slowly against Gerard's body. Gerard really wants to get him off, to watch his face when he falls apart. His thoughts flash to Mikey for a split second and he bites his lip to keep a moan in. Ryan's body feels hard and hot under his hands and his skin is flushed as he rubs his erection slowly against Gerard's hip. It must hurt a bit what with Gerard wearing jeans and Ryan being naked, but Ryan doesn't seem to care. He kisses Ryan again and Ryan moans into his mouth. His right hand curls around a too bony hip hard and the other in Ryan's hair. He is so turned on, it kind of hurts.
He hears Ryan's hard, fast breathing, feels it on his skin where Ryan burrows his head in his neck. The knock startles Ryan into orgasm, he groans as Ryan's teeth sink into his skin.
“Fuck!”
His head whips around at the familiar voice. Ryan is breathing hard and panting, licking over the bite mark slowly not caring at all that Mikey is in the room as well. Standing in the other doorway.
~+~
It's not like he didn't know. He knew how Ryan looks when he comes, but he didn't know how his brother looks when he is turned on. He bites his lip and closes the door, leaning heavily against it.
“Fuck,” he says again with feeling. It seems this future is still a possibility, more certain now than just a few hours ago even. He walks over to the living room, sits down on the couch, and lights up another cigarette.
~+~
“Sorry,” Ryan says, licking one last time over Gerard's abused skin and stepping back - he isn't really sure he means it though. He feels spent and loose and a bit tired.
“Need to change my clothes now,” Gerard answers.
“Yeah, but . . . maybe I should suck you off first?” Ryan asks and smiles at the moan that escapes Gerard's lips. Fuck, he thinks, Gerard is kind of beautiful in a way Ryan himself could never be.
“No . . . it's okay.” Gerard says to his surprise.
“I'm pretty good at it,” he answers. He really, really wants to feel Gerard on his tongue. He licks his lips at the thought and Gerard's eyes follow the movement.
“I bet,” he says. It kind of pisses Ryan off; it's like something inside him fights what people are thinking or saying about him because they aren't allowed to. Ryan is the only one that can say these things; who can call Ryan a whore. Gerard closes his eyes and breaths in, and then out. He lights a cigarette and sits down on the floor, dropping ash into a forgotten cup. Ryan slings his arms around his body and watches Gerard. He seems calmer now.
“You going to paint some more?” he asks.
Gerard nods, “In a few minutes.”
So Ryan sits down in the overstuffed old chair, curls up and waits. The studio is warm so it doesn't matter that he is naked and sweat is cooling on his skin. He feels good, a bit evil, but mostly good.
It always feels good to get something you've wanted for a long time and he'd wanted this since he first heard Gerard sing about all the things he was feeling inside and was only able to express on paper. Gerard screamed them out into the world.
He watches Gerard putting the butt in the mug and getting up from the floor with heavy eyes. Maybe he needs more tea to get him through this. He stretches and gets up to pose again. Gerard isn't watching him; he is playing with a brush, staring at the canvas in front of him. It makes Ryan smile and he doesn't even know why.
~+~
“So . . .” Gerard says, scratching his head nervously.
“Guess we're in for some sex, hmm?” Mikey says, passing Gerard a cigarette.
“God, he . . . I didn't even know what was happening,” Gerard admits, nodding a thanks at his brother and inhaling deeply.
“He is kind of evil,” Mikey says.
“And broken,” Gerard says between two drags.
“It's so god damned you to find someone you can fix,” Mikey answers, but he is proud that Gerard is still trying.
“I don't need to fix you,” Gerard says, leaning into him. He raises an eyebrow. “You're perfect,” he adds. He says it in a tone that clearly states that Mikey should have known that.
Gerard is such a fucking sap.
~9~
~+~
“Ostara is a pagan feast,” Brendon announces at breakfast.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah and the Ways have a big party every year and you, my friend, are invited!”
“Is this code for orgy?” Ryan smiles.
“God, I fucking wish! That Greta girl is so fucking pretty . . . and she only comes to Jersey for Ostara and Gee's birthday,” Brendon answers and Ryan laughs.
“What? I told you, I'm straight!”
“It's hard to believe sometimes,” Ryan says, buttering a piece of toast for Brendon who is busy making tea. Brendon likes it when the butter melts on his bread. Ryan on the other hand likes his butter how it should be, so he waits for his toast to cool down a bit.
“It's this Sunday which sucks a bit, but hey . . .” Brendon says, putting mugs on the table.
“Do I need to wear a toga or something?”
“Ryan Ross! I'm scandalized . . . but also find the thought strangely hot,” he grins as he says it so Ryan knows he is joking.
“No toga then? I'm disappointed.”
“You can wear whatever you want,” Brendon answers.
“Hmmm.”
“You're coming right? Everyone will be there. Emilie and Bob, Vicky - she's part demon, but don't worry, she's nice - Greta, Jon and Haley and Gym Class Heroes and Midtown, and I bet William and Courtney as well!”
“I don't know any of these people, Brendon.”
“Exactly! You need to meet my friends, Ryan Ross, so they can adore you.” Brendon is smiling at him and he smiles back without meaning to.
~+~
The house is full of people and he feels kind of out of place. Brendon has a tight hold around his wrist and it's a reassuring feeling. He's dragging Ryan to meet people and he tries to just make a good first impression. There is no talk about magic or curses; it's just a nice meeting of friends and bands. He feels a tingle of something like sharp desire when he shakes William's hand. William looks apologetic, like it's his fault. Ryan shrugs it off. William is fucking pretty in a girly way.
“Gabe!” Brendon exclaims.
“Brendon and Brendon's friend!” Gabe says, hugging them both and smacking them on their asses with a leer. Brendon just laughs. Ryan gives Gabe a bitchy look.
“Ryan, his name's Ryan Ross,” Brendon answers.
“Ryro! I love that!” Gabe answers, hugging him again and Ryan just lets him, leans a bit into it.
“That's just Gabe for you,” Brendon says, as he drags him away and to meet Travis and the rest of his band.
“He is so different from what I imagined,” Ryan says. Brendon laughs.
“Yeah, he usually isn't as angry as his lyrics make him out to be. Travis, this is Ryan Ross!” Brendon says and Travis grins.
“Ryro! I like that!” he says, hugging Brendon and then Ryan. He is not trying to grope Ryan and he appreciates it.
“So, you've seen Greta?” Brendon asks, Travis grins.
“In the kitchen, talking to Bob and Emilie.”
“Show him around a bit more, while I'm going to say hi to Greta?” Brendon asks.
“Sure,” Travis says with an easy smile. Ryan thinks he kind of likes him.
“You've met Gabe?”
“Yes,” Ryan answers. “And William and I know Gerard and Mikey, and Gabe's band, and . . .” he is at a loss here; too many people.
“Want to grab something to drink and a smoke? I bet Jon is in the backyard smoking up with Disashi, those fuckers . . ."
“Sure,” Ryan answers, following him outside.
~+~
Mikey is passing the joint back to Jon as someone sits down next to him.
“Travis,” he says.
“And I brought you Ryro!” Travis says, claiming the joint from Jon. Jon falls back onto the grass and stares up at the sky, his toes wiggling in his flip-flops.
“Who?” he asks.
“Ryro!” Travis says pulling Ryan down next to him.
“Oh, Ryan . . . Hi, Ryan,” Mikey says.
“You're high,” Ryan answers with a small, soft smile; it looks good on him.
“Maybe."
“For sure,” Jon's mellow voice says.
He presses closer to Travis, because it's cold outside and he forgot his jacket in the kitchen. Travis feels warm.
“Here,” Ryan says, handing his scarf over. Mikey smiles.
“Thanks, Ryan.”
“Don't mention it,” Ryan says, shrugging. He wraps it around his shoulders and is sure that it looks totally stupid, but he doesn't care.
~+~
“I know how you look when you're about to come,” Mikey says into Ryan's shoulder. Mikey might be drunk, Ryan thinks. They're sitting on the top stairs, sharing Mikey's last cigarette while Gabe is stripping to Marilyn Manson in the living room.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah . . . and when on your knees and with Gerard's fingers tangled in your hair,” he says. Ryan swallows.
“You didn't see that, I wasn't on my knees in Gerard's studio that day,” he answers. He wanted to, but Gerard didn't let him.
“Not that day,” Mikey says, passing the cigarette over to him again.
“Oh . . .” Ryan is a bit at a loss here. The Way brothers are special, unique. He should have known that Mikey would be a freak like Gerard. He doesn't mind it at all, is the thing. “How do you know then?”
“I just do,” Mikey says, shrugging. He tips his head back and stares up at the ceiling. Ryan is reminded that Brendon told him Mikey could see the future, not that Ryan believes him. He doesn't. He takes a drag and then exhales slowly. He turns to look at Mikey, his gaze landing on Mikey's pale throat and the line of his neck, his Adam's apple, his stupid glasses. Mikey Way isn't obviously beautiful like his brother, but if you start to count the pretty parts, you can't stop doing it. He reaches out and strokes a long pale finger down Mikey's neck. Hears Mikey take a sharp breath and desire floods his veins.
He drops the butt of the cigarette into Mikey's soda can after one last drag and leans forward to trail his tongue over the path his finger was stroking a few seconds ago. He can feel Mikey's blood rush faster through his veins, his pulse speeding up. Mikey doesn't tell him to stop, just lets him, lets him do what he wants, lets him be in control of this and he needs that, needs to know that he is in charge here, because he wasn't able to control much in his life.
He's on Mikey in an instant, straddling his hips; licking, biting, kissing, tasting his skin, running his fingers through Mikey's stupid hair and it feels so fucking good to be able to do that, just give in; getting what he wants. Mikey falls back, his head hitting the dark wooden floor with a soft sound; Ryan can hear music and drunken laugher from the living room, but it's distant here, in the shadows. The only thing that seems real right now are them: Mikey's soft pants and the taste of his skin on Ryan's tongue. Mikey's hands running up and down his thighs.
“I was with your brother,” he says unnecessarily, because Mikey knows that, saw them in Gerard's studio that day.
“It doesn't matter. He knows,” Mikey answers and a moan escapes Ryan's lips. It's kind of fucked up and kind of hot, because how can that be, if even Ryan didn't know?
“You're sharing everything?” he asks as Mikey's hands slip under his shirt; cold fingers finding heated skin. Mikey's breath is ghosting over Ryan's lips, they're so close, not close enough.
“No, but we're good at it when we do,” he answers, before he's kissing Ryan again; messy and kind of soft. Ryan's mind flashes to all the possibilities these words could mean.
“Gerard didn't let me suck him, will you?”
Mikey's hips collide with Ryan's at those words, his hands tightening on Ryan's hips, and Ryan laughs softly. Mikey's grip is just this side of painful.
Ryan doesn't really think Mikey will.
“I'd love that,” Mikey says, pulling one hand out from under Ryan's shirt and dragging him down by his neck to kiss him hard and messily. “It's not the time and not the place though,” he adds, letting go of Ryan and closing his eyes. It's not a surprise to Ryan. He leans down, kissing Mikey's swollen lips softly and lies down on top of him, trying to catch his breath and listening to Mikey doing the same.
~+~
“How is she?” Gerard asks, leaning on the kitchen counter. The living room is still a place of sin and debauchery.
“Good . . . strange; I mean, it's strange and I'm worried about her all the fucking time,” Bob admits, lighting a cigarette.
“You don't want her to get hurt, that's understandable.”
“She hates it that I'm being all patronizing all of a sudden. The truth is I didn't need to be before, because she couldn't die or get hurt, not even a bruise.”
“Now she can and she can get older, and you and her can be a normal couple,” Gerard answers with a smile.
“Well, yeah, as normal as it gets being a hunter,” Bob says.
“You don't have to do that, if you don't want to,” Gerard replies, taking a drag form his own cigarette.
“I know.”
The thing is, Gerard does as well. Their lives could have been so very different from this, but it doesn't make much sense to dwell on it now. He nods and they smoke in silence.
~+~
For the first few seconds he doesn't know where he is, and then Courtney is glaring down at him and he knows exactly where he is.
“Wild night?” she asks.
He closes his eyes. He can't remember much; so, yeah, it must have been wild. “I was stripping to Marilyn Manson at one point. I'm pretty sure of that,” he answers, opening his eyes again.
“Good for you!” She is still glaring down at him and maybe he did a bit more than just strip in the Way's living room.
“So, spit it out! What the hell did I do?” he asks.
“Fucked some girl in a closet,” she answers.
“I did not!” he says hotly and too fucking loud and his head is going to explode any minute now.
“Pretty fucking close,” she huffs. He closes his eyes again. He thinks he owes her a thanks; at least, maybe a fruit basket or a nice pair of earrings.
“Thanks . . .” he says and then because it occurred to him: “Does William know?”
“He didn't see.”
That doesn't mean he doesn't know. Fuck, Gabe thinks. This shit is getting out of hand. He sighs and considers getting up and facing the day, but then just lies there.
Maybe she will make him coffee, if he looks miserable enough, and he thinks he does because he feels miserable enough.
~+~
Gerard is picking at the bandage absent-mindedly, the skin underneath itches and he just wants to scratch and be done with it.
“Don't do that,” Mikey and Brendon say at the same time. He sighs.
“It fucking itches!”
“My mom used to say that that's a good sign,” Brendon says.
“Yeah? It itches like a bitch.”
“You're totally over dramatic; drama queen,” Mikey says. Gerard glares at his brother. He is not a drama queen. Sure, he could've been one, but that ship has sailed.
“I think something is wrong with Shakespeare,” Brendon throws in. Gerard looks up from his palm and at him.
“What do you mean?”
“He seems ill, but the doc couldn't find anything; says he's fine. He's not. Also he's only sleeping when Ryan is and he isn't eating much either . . . Mozart is looking sad all the time now as well. I think Shakespeare is dying . . .” Brendon says.
“Ryan will be fucking crushed if that happens,” Mikey says, pouring coffee into mugs. Gerard nods. Ryan will. The frog is maybe the only living creature Ryan loves and that includes Mikey and himself.
“Could you look him over?” Brendon asks, hopefully.
“I'm not a vet,” Gerard answers.
“He is no normal frog,” Brendon says back.
“You should ask Travis, he has this thing going on . . . his Mojo or whatnot,” Mikey throws in.
“Travis has Mojo?” Brendon wants to know.
“Yep, Travis has Mojo and maybe he can help you figuring out what the hell is wrong with Shakespeare,” Mikey answers. Brendon beams at him and it's fucking blinding, Gerard thinks. For someone who has dealt with so much shit in their young life, Brendon is still so careless and naïve and just believes in things. It's stupidly endearing.
“I'm going to call him right away!” He takes out his phone and wanders over to the living room to talk with Travis. Gerard looks at Mikey as he lights a cigarette.
“You don't really think there is something going on with that frog, do you?”
“Grandma said I should watch out for them,” Mikey answers.
“When did you talk to grandma?” Gerard wants to know, the how isn't even important here. He knows there are ways, if you want to talk to a dead person, he just didn't think Mikey would consider any of them.
“Some time ago.” Mikey takes another drag of his cigarette and Gerard makes grabby hands at him. He rolls his eyes, but passes his smoke over. He takes a deep drag and lets it out slowly.
“When the dreams started?” Gerard asks, but he doesn't really need to. He knows it must have been around that time.
“Yeah . . ."
“You told your grandma you want to fuck your brother?”
Mikey shrugs. “Not in those words and she was your grandma too.”
Gerard wants to ask more questions but Brendon chooses this moment to enter the kitchen. He raises an eyebrow.
“He says he has no Mojo whatsoever,” Brendon says.
“He has and I'm going to talk to him. I swear he is going to look Shakespeare over,” Mikey answers.
“Thanks. I love you guys.”
“Yeah, we love you too,” Gerard says and it's the fucking truth. Mikey smiles as if he could hear Gerard's thoughts. Gerard shrugs. Brendon just shakes his head.
“You two are so fucking creepy, I swear.”
“Way charm,” they say in unison.
~+~
Ryan has three little birthmarks on the top of his left shoulder. Mikey never saw them before, not even in his dreams; it was too dark then. And there is a scar above his second rib and one on his upper arm. His long fingers can't quite hide it. He looks fragile and maybe he is, but more important that's how Gerard sees him.
“You're nearly finished,” Mikey says from the door. He's leaning against the frame. Gerard nods, not looking away from the canvas. “His hipbones look like they could cut something.”
“It's how he is,” Gerard answers.
“Pointy and sharp?”
“Yes, that too,” Gerard answers and Mikey can hear the smile in his voice. He finishes a soft highlight on Ryan's skin and puts the brush aside.
They are alone in the studio, because Gerard doesn't need Ryan for this part of the portrait.
“I made coffee, want some?”
“Yeah, can you bring it? I want to finish it today- I need . . .” he trails off and Mikey nods. It's not like Gerard would need to explain this.
“Sure,” he answers.
“I love you,” Gerard says, picking up the brush. Mikey doesn't tell that he loves Gerard too. Gerard knows that.
~+~
The thing is that maybe there won't even be any sharing. The way Mikey said it was somehow strange, but not in a bad way.
He puts his clothes on the couch and walks over to the bathroom naked. The apartment is warm and Brendon isn't home. Ryan doesn't know what Brendon is doing half the time anyway and he doesn't care either. Brendon has his own life, like Ryan. Just because they're sharing an apartment doesn't mean they are attached at the hip.
The water is warm for once, because Ryan was pestering the landlord until it got fixed two days ago. He leans his forehead on the tiles and lets it pour down his back.
When he allows himself to think about it, he is still in fucking awe that he's made out with both Way brothers. With fucking Gerard, whom he used to have wet dreams about, about all that too pale skin with blue veins that looks like marble, but doesn't feel like it at all; soft and yielding in places he himself isn't. He really wishes Gerard would let him suck his cock, or Mikey, for that matter, now that he knows he can have them both. A moan escapes his lips, he could have them both, maybe even at the same time. Mikey's hard bones under soft skin - so like his own and Gerard's pale flesh, like a girl's. His fingers curl around his dick, as he imagines Mikey's fingers around him, Gerard's mouth on his neck, his teeth maybe biting this side of too painful, revenge for this one time in Gerard's studio. He can nearly feel it, Gerard whispering into his ear and Mikey's hand teasing his entrance. He comes then, somehow unexpected and too early. He slides down the wall and sits down in the small tub, his knees pulled close to his body. He closes his eyes. Fuck, that just can't end well, can it? Nothing ever was fucking simple in his life, so why would that be, something he really wants?
He puts his head on his knees and just breathes, ignoring the water and Brendon yelling that he's home.
~10~
~+~
Late March is still cold, but it doesn't rain or snow anymore and it hasn't frozen since last Friday; maybe spring decided to make an appearance after all.
“Yo?” Travis asks because he doesn't know that number.
“Travis, my man!” Pete's fucking cheery voice says.
“Fucker, it's the middle of the night,” Travis answers, but he's grinning and he is sure Pete knows that.
“Patrick has a cold,” Pete says.
“You're cancelling a few gigs?”
“Patrick has a cold,” Pete repeats with emphasis.
Travis rolls on his back, but doesn't open his eyes. It's too fucking early. “You coming over then?”
“If the Ways let us stay . . ."
“The Ways fucking love you,” Travis answers.
“Mikey, for sure, but Gerard? I think he still hates me for what I put Mikey through,” Pete says, his voice soft and quiet.
“It wasn't your fault.”
“But if they hadn't tried to find me and help me and- I didn't believe them,” Pete says, miserably. Pete is such a fucking idiot, Travis thinks.
“They never thought you would. Gerard didn't even think they would be able to help you.”
“He's a mean potion master.”
“He's the Snape, man!” Travis answers and Pete laughs. “So, should I call the Ways for you? You know they're not taking any calls from strange numbers, and why do you have a new one anyway?”
“Got trashed in the last moshpit.”
“What the hell, Pete?”
“Yeah, it's not like I can't afford a new one, you know. Besides Patrick bitched me out for this shit as well, so . . ."
Travis can see him shrugging. They know each other too fucking well. “Yeah, so when will you guys be here?”
“Tomorrow, but I don't think Joe and Andy are going to stay - girlfriends,” Pete says.
Travis rolls on his side and looks out of the window, nearly dawn. “Mother fucker, should have called earlier!” He might as well get up now that he's awake.
“Yeah . . . Sorry, wasn't sure . . .” Pete trails off.
“Oh, hey, they know, it's not a big problem.”
“Call me back with news?”
“Yeah in a few hours.”
“I know man, we're talking about the Ways here,” Pete laughs and hangs up; that fucker. Travis smiles and gets up to make some coffee.
~+~
“Patrick has a cold,” Mikey says as he hangs up the phone in the living room. Gerard's head peeks out from under the sofa. Mikey doesn't even want to know what the hell Gerard lost.
“So, when are they coming over then?”
“Tomorrow.”
“We have to call Gabe,” Gerard says.
“I know, I already sent a text. I don't think this will be a problem. Gabe's basement is safe.”
“I know,” Gerard answers with a grin, holding up a green, glittery pen. Mikey doesn't roll his eyes.
~+~
“So . . . Mikey's friends with Pete,” Brendon says. Ryan isn't surprised. It seems Mikey is friends with everyone in the music scene, or knows someone who knows someone.
“Yeah?” He turns a page of Fight Club and doesn't look up. Shakespeare is sitting on a cushion beside him. He looks tired Ryan thinks.
“And Patrick has a cold,” Brendon says.
“I know that.”
“How?”
“The internet?” Ryan asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Right . . ."
“Brendon.”
“What?”
“What the hell are you trying to tell me?” Ryan asks a bit annoyed already. Sometimes Brendon just drives him crazy and not in a good way.
“He's staying at the Way's for a while!” Brendon blurts out.
“Okay . . .” Ryan says carefully.
Brendon rolls his eyes. “Want to meet him?”
“Yeah.” He does, he fucking does. Pete Wentz is one of the reasons he picked up a guitar in the first place. Like Gerard, he is Ryan's hero.
“Great. I'm going to text them that we're coming over tomorrow evening, after work.”
“Hey, Brendon?”
“Yeah?”
“The overdose?”
“It wasn't one . . . He got infected and they needed to tell the media something, you know?” Brendon says. No, Ryan thinks, he doesn't know.
“Infected with what?” he wants to know. Must be something fucking serious if overdose is the cover-up!
“Hmm . . . Don't think I should tell you. I mean, I would, but it's kind of his story to tell?”
“Like your curse?”
“I think he got it worse,” Brendon answers, shrugging and taking out his phone. Ryan knows that means he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. It's okay, maybe he will ask Pete tomorrow.
~+~
“Try not to suck him in our kitchen again, okay?” Gerard says, before he opens the door. Mikey glares at him.
“Gerard,” Pete says and Gerard nods. “Mikey!” Mikey is enveloped into a hug and hugs back.
“Come in guys,” he says, tugging Pete by the sleeve inside.
He's glad to see Pete before Gerard's birthday. They don't see each other enough, what with Fall out Boy touring and them not.
“Saved any lives since the last time I saw you?” Andy asks.
“Have you?” Gerard counters.
“As a matter of fact, yeah; Patrick saved a kitten from a car.”
“Patrick was always my favourite,” Gerard says, nodding. Patrick smiles and doesn't blush. He is older now, Mikey thinks. Everything's changed since the thing with Pete, but it only made them stronger it seems.
“Something to drink?”
“Yeah and food; I'm starving!” Joe says, sitting down on the couch.
“Sure, but we're waiting for Brendon and Ryan, if that's okay with you guys?” Gerard says, it's not like they will get their way anyway. It's kind of pointless to ask, Mikey thinks. Gerard gives him the finger. “It's being polite,” he adds.
Mikey rolls his eyes.
“God, you two are so fucking creepy,” Pete says, laughing and making Mikey sit beside him on the couch.
“Way charm!” Brendon says from the hall.
“Since when does he have a key?” Pete asks.
“Since . . . don't know. Can't remember giving him one either,” Mikey shrugs. It's not like it matters. Brendon is always welcome here.
“Good, these the guys we're waiting for?” Joe asks. Gerard nods. “Thank god!”
Brendon laughs, falling onto the couch beside Pete. Pete hugs him.
“You smell like a Happy Meal,” he says.
“Ryan thinks I smell good,” Brendon answers with a grin.
“Does he now?” Pete turns to look Ryan up and down, his arm still around Brendon. “Does he taste like one?” he asks Ryan. To his credit Ryan doesn't blush, but is saved by Patrick's hand on Pete's head. “Fuck! Trick! That fucking hurt.”
“Was supposed to,” Patrick answers, his voice all fucked up.
“I'm gonna make you tea with honey for your voice and you guys can order something . . ."
“Actually, we brought food from that Indian restaurant Ryan works at,” Brendon says and Ryan holds up three bags.
“I hope there is vegan stuff . . .” Andy says.
“As if I could ever forget!” Brendon answers, mock annoyed.
“Ryan?” Gerard says.
“Yeah?”
“Wanna help me in the kitchen?”
“Sure.”
~+~
“You're all starry eyed,” Gerard says, he's fucking amused by this.
“Yeah?” Ryan asks.
“Yeah, so wanted to fuck Pete as well when you were younger?” he wants to know, taking out plates and mugs.
“I still do,” Ryan answers. “Think he would let me?”
“No, I don't.”
“Am I not his type?”
“Mikey is his exception,” Gerard answers. He's not teasing anymore.
“So, he's really going to marry that Ashlee girl?”
“Reading much Perez Hilton?”
Ryan shrugs. “Maybe; so is he?”
“Maybe,” Gerard answers. Ryan really fucking wants to kiss Gerard right now - or suck him off, with all those people in the living room, just a door between them.
“Hey, Gerard?” he asks, his voice soft and Gerard turns to look at him. Ryan licks his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Let me suck you?”
“Now?” Gerard asks in disbelief; it's more like a shriek, really.
“Yeah . . . No one will know anyway.”
“Mikey will.”
“He knows already,” Ryan answers, closing the space between them in a few steps.
“We have a no sex in the kitchen rule,” Gerard says, but he is leaning over to Ryan as Ryan is leaning in to kiss him.
~+~
“So, you and Ryan?” Pete asks, Patrick is glaring at him. “What? It's a normal question!”
“I'm straight!” Brendon says, annoyed.
"So am I," Pete laughs.
“Besides: Mikey and Ryan.”
“Really?” Pete asks, shit eating grin in place. “Doesn't seem your type.”
“He isn't.” Mikey answers.
“But I saw you on the stairs, making out,” Brendon says.
“I didn't say we weren't . . . whatever. I just said he isn't really my type.”
“He's everybody's type!” Pete says.
“Not mine!” Brendon throws in.
“Or mine,” Andy says. “I bet Bob wouldn't fuck him either.”
“You guys don't count!” Pete answers hotly.
“Why the fuck not? Because we're straight?”
“Posh, straight, my ass! No, because you guys are in love.” Pete looks triumphant.
Mikey rolls his eyes.
“What the hell are they doing in the kitchen that takes so long?” Joe wants to know.
“I'm gonna look!” Brendon says, getting up.
“No, really, I'll go,” Mikey says.
He opens the kitchen door carefully and then closes it fast behind him. “Guys!” he says. Ryan doesn't even look up and Gerard tries to look guilty through his lust haze.
He fails miserably.
“Sorry, sorry . . .” he gasps.
“We have a no sex in the kitchen rule,” he hisses, but he doesn't look away from Ryan's lips around his brother's cock. He can't, is the thing.
“Sorry . . ."
“Gerard,” Mikey says and Gerard comes.
“Fuck, sorry,” Gerard says, patting Ryan's cheek.
“It's okay. It's not like I haven't done it before,” he answers. Mikey makes a note to himself that he should make Ryan go to a doctor, just to be sure he's clean.
“Get yourself together and, for god's sake, bring the food out!” Mikey says, grabbing the tray with the drinks.
“Sorry . . .” Gerard says again and he sounds kind of crushed. So Mikey turns to face him, puts the tray down and leans forward to kiss Gerard's cheek. He hears Ryan's breathing speeding up.
“I'm not mad at you,” he says and then turns to kiss Ryan, tasting remains of his brother. “Now hurry the fuck up!”
~+~
Pete stays until Easter Sunday and makes them all go to church just for the fun of it. Gerard is not fucking amused. It's too early and he kind of hates the Catholic church.
“Why do I have to suffer as well?” Ryan grumbles into his scarf. For early April it's still fucking cold. And the church is a small old one that doesn't seem to be heated.
“Because you fuck my brother, that's why,” Mikey whispers. Ryan shivers and it's not from the cold.
“It's because we love you,” Gerard says on his other side and Ryan doesn't know if he's joking or not.
“Shut up and take this shit seriously” Pete hisses from the front row. Mikey gives him the finger and a woman looks very disapprovingly. He ducks his head and tries to look like he belongs here. Ryan's learned a lot of things about the Way brothers in the last few weeks since the incident in the kitchen. It was like this one incident was all it took to make them into something, something more.
“You should pray,” Brendon whispers. Ryan suspects that Pete made them come here for Brendon's sake. Even if he doesn't understand why Brendon would want to go to church on Easter Sunday or any other given day for that matter. There are still a lot of things he doesn't know about Brendon.
“Why?” Ryan asks, he never went to church again after his mom left him with his dad. He doesn't believe in god, maybe he never did.
“So your sinful ways will be forgiven,” Brendon answers, but he's grinning like mad, so Ryan just smiles back at him. Also, as far as wordplays go this one is actually pretty good.
“You're going to buy us coffee afterwards, fucker,” Gerard hisses into Pete's ear and Mikey nods.
“Yeah, whatever . . .” Pete answers with a grin.
~+~
There is a small coffee shop a few blocks from the church and that's where they're going. Brendon's having cake with his tea and Ryan is stealing it from him.
“So, what was this all about?” Ryan asks Pete. He and Pete just clicked like he always knew - hoped - they would.
“Going to church? Well the Ways are Catholic . . .”
“On paper, not in practice,” Gerard says between sips of blessed coffee. Ryan thinks if there were a Coffee God the Ways would worship him, her, or it.
“Don't drag us into this,” Mikey throws in, also sipping coffee.
“I'm not, fuckers; I used to go Easter and Christmas. I like it and Brendon does as well.”
“Yeah,” Brendon says.
“Couldn't go Christmas because . . . you know.” He waves his hand in all directions and Ryan thinks that no, he doesn't.
“Your condition,” he says and Pete nods. It's kind of frustrating that no one seems to trust him, even if he's fucking both Ways and is living with Brendon. Well maybe that is the reason?
“Yeah . . . was a full moon on Christmas. That sucked, I was so fucking hyped and angry and vicious all the time . . . Ash made me pie. It tasted like the stuff Travis is baking,” he says with a grin. Ryan puts one and one together and still doesn't think it's two, because no way is Pete a werewolf, right?
“You are not a werewolf,” he states.
“You guys didn't tell him?” Pete asks.
“You are not a fucking werewolf, because this shit doesn't happen and besides there aren't such things as werewolves!” Ryan hisses.
“Ryan, chill . . .” Pete says.
“I. . . How come that all your friends are crazy?” he asks Brendon.
“Because they aren't and if they are, I am too,” Brendon answers, pulling the sleeve of his hoodie up, showing the ugly flower.
“Jesus . . ."
“You should have told him,” Pete says.
“You should've told him,” Mikey shoots back and Brendon nods.
“Hey, Ryan. I'm sorry,” Pete says. Ryan just can't believe this. This is not- This is unacceptable. “I was shocked as well when they told me and I didn't believe it,” he adds.
“You're lucky we're persistent bastards.”
“Guess I am. Better cursed than dead,” Pete answers with a smile and Brendon smiles back.
“Fuck,” Ryan says with emphasis.
“Welcome to the real world,” Pete says laughing.
~+~
The scar is long and even paler than the rest of Gerard's skin and it still itches from time to time, he can't help running his finger over it constantly. Ryan takes it into his hands and kisses along the long clean line.
“What did you do?”
“Cut myself on a dagger,” Gerard answers, shrugging. Ryan raises an eyebrow. “I was trying to find a cure to Emilie's curse . . .” he says.
“She isn't cursed anymore,” Ryan answers.
“Yeah, she isn't . . .” Gerard says and gets up.
“Hey!”
“Yeah, no; I need to call Ray and check some books and . . . just go and play with Mikey?”
“We aren't fucking children!” Ryan answers, but he's smiling, so Gerard knows he isn't in trouble. He knows that Ryan still doesn't believe half of the stuff they're telling him, but that's okay. It's not like he was born into it - like he, Mikey, Travis and William - nor did he have a traumatic experience to make him see the world how it really is - like Vicky, Brendon, and Pete.
~+~
“Something is wrong with your frog,” Travis says and he is somehow annoyed at himself that he didn't see it or feel it or what the fuck ever he is supposed to . . . whatever as a wizard.
“No shit,” Brendon says.
“I need to run a few more tests,” Travis says. Brendon is hovering over Shakespeare protectively and watching Travis do his job. “I have no clue why I didn't see it before,” he mumbles.
“What?”
“That is no frog!” Travis says.
“What?”
“That is a human being in there . . ."
“Do I need to kiss him? Wait! Ryan needs to kiss him. Ryan loves Shakespeare!” Brendon says excited.
“That's no Disney movie. We need to make mixtures and I need Gerard to help me with this spell and Mikey as well . . ."
“Will there be virgin blood and cat bones, because . . ."
“I don't know yet. Brendon, I need to do research, and, you, hang in there, buddy,” he says to Shakespeare.
~+~
“Maybe it's because the curse works like that or maybe the person who did that also put an enchantment on the curse so that no wizard that isn't actually looking for something very hard would find it . . .” Gerard says and thinks: I nearly killed him - Fuck, that is a vicious curse. Who the fuck would do something like that to someone?
“Who the fuck would do something like that?” Travis wants to know.
“No idea,” Gerard answers, he shifts his phone so he can reach the book on the top shelf. “Wait a minute, I have this book with dark spells, maybe there is a counter spell in there or the original human to animal spell.”
“We could work with that I suppose, but he's dying. I don't know how long he's . . . I don't know how much time we have,” Travis answers. Gerard nods, even if Travis can't see it.
“I'm on it,” he says. This is more important than the other thing he is working on right now. After all, a life is at stake here.
~11~
~+~
“I want to come!” Brendon says sharply.
“You can't help anyway,” Gerard answers. Ryan gives him a look.
“You can't come either. This will be messy and maybe even dangerous, we don't know enough about the curse. It might end in disaster,” Travis throws in. Mikey keeps silent. He dreamed something, he can't quite remember, something about frogs and Emilie. He just . . .
“I don't think you should do it,” he says quietly and everyone goes silent.
“What? That is a person!” Brendon is looking pissed off.
“I have this feeling . . .” he trails off.
“Did you see something?” Gerard wants to know. Mikey shakes his head. He didn't see anything. He just knows something is going to happen and it will not be good. He just knows that.
“Then we will carry on as planned,” Ryan says, steel in his voice.
“Gerard . . ."
“I will not die,” Gerard answers with a small smile. Ryan looks uncertain all of a sudden.
“He will not die, right? You didn't see him die, did you?” he asks Mikey.
Mikey shakes his head again. He didn't, but there was something.
“Everything will be okay, I promise,” Gerard says and Mikey wants to scream that he can't promise that. Didn't he learn from his mistakes? Not everything goes always as planned. They didn't plan on being in a relationship with Ryan, and, more importantly, with each other, but here they are, and Pete didn't plan to be fucking attacked by a werewolf, and survive and Vicky didn't plan . . . but Gerard knows that, knows it and is going to do something reckless anyway and Mikey can't do anything to stop it. Sometimes things need to develop, Elena said, but he doesn't think this should be one of those things.
“I'll kill you with my own hands if you die,” Mikey says and Gerard smiles at him.
“Deal.”
~+~
Shakespeare looks small and frighten and there is no one he knows or loves. There is just Gerard and Mikey and Travis.
“Listen, we are going to help you,” Gerard tells the frog.
“We're trying,” Travis throws in.
“You need to stay in the circle. Don't hop out. You need to stay there until the curse is lifted. It will protect you,” Gerard goes on ignoring Travis' words.
“Okay,” Mikey says, breathing in deeply. God, he needs a fucking cigarette right the fuck now, but Gabe's basement has no windows and he doesn't think it would be a good idea to smoke now what with Gerard purifying the room and all.
Gerard is singing softly while he paints runes with the smoke. Soon the circle is separated from the rest of the basement through a wall of smoke in different designs. Mikey takes a deep breath: it smells like basil and verbena, honey as well. He knows there is clover in the mix too, but he can't actually smell it. He's afraid. Gerard's never done a spell as powerful as this one, to give back someone their true form. Fuck, if his heart isn't pounding too fast in his chest. Travis is chanting low and familiar and Gerard looks at him and Mikey nods, takes the knife and slits his palm: blood freely given. He's sure Brendon or Ryan would've done it as well, but its better they are not here. Too many emotions interfering with the magic could lead to a disaster. The blood drips from his palm down his fingers, but doesn't have time to touch the floor, because Gerard catches it, weaves it into the smoke around them, lets it flow until they're encased in blood and smoke and magic. The magic is so strong that he loses his balance, falls down on his knees and sees Travis doing the same through the wall of blood and smoke. Gerard is still standing, still chanting, still demanding, concentrating the energy around him and then letting it go. The moment he lets go of it, directing it at Shakespeare, Mikey blacks out.
~+~
Waiting makes him ill. He was waiting for hours and sometimes days, sleeping in cheep plastic chairs in hospital corridors. When he left, when he left home (he makes himself think the word, even if it doesn't mean home anymore) he swore he would never ever be that helpless, feel like that: useless.
Brendon is pacing Gabe's living room restlessly. It makes Ryan want to scream, but he knows that's just Brendon's way of dealing with this stuff.
After all Brendon knows more about curses and all the horrible things that are out there to get you, all the things that can go wrong. Right now, in the basement.
“Would you please fucking sit down or something?” he says too sharply, but he really can't stand it anymore.
Brendon falls onto the couch, clutching a cushion and not looking at Ryan.
“I'm worried,” he says quietly and Ryan feels like an ass.
“Yeah, I know . . . but they know what they're doing, right?”
“Gerard fucking punched a werewolf! I don't care if they know what they're doing. This is reckless,” Gabe says and he is the fucking master of reckless, Ryan thinks.
“When he dies it'll be my fault,” he whispers.
“No one is going to die! They have Travis down there,” Gabe answers and Brendon nods with emphasis.
Ryan keeps quiet.
~+~
The thing is, Gabe thinks that they have a lot of good reasons to be fucking worried like hell. Gerard might be a talented wizard, but he is also kind of reckless because he thinks he needs to save everyone; one person at a time maybe, but the whole fucking world nevertheless. And that's just impossible. One person can't save the world. No one can do this shit alone. He wants to call William, badly, but William isn't talking to him. Or, well, Gabe hasn't tried since he woke up on the Beckett's floor that morning.
“I need some air,” he says to Brendon and Ryan and leaves for the small balcony. He takes out his phone and pushes one. William's been on speed dial since the night they met.
“Gabe,” William says, his voice soft and far away, too quiet. He's draining blood again and Gabe doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to think about the fact that William still picked up. “How is it going?”
“We're waiting and the basement is soundproof, so I don't know what the hell is going on down there and it makes me crazy and Ryan is full of guilt and Brendon is fucking miserable,” he answers. “I wish you were here,” he adds, without heat. It's just something he wanted to say. The wind picks up and he shivers, someone screams. “Fuck! Have to go!” he says, opening the door and running down the steps to the basement. The door is open and Travis is on his phone. Ryan is down the stairs with Brendon hot on his heels.
~+~
When he comes to his senses again, Gerard is lying on the floor, bleeding from numerous wounds. His black clothes are shiny with dark blood.
In the middle of the room is a boy, crouching; naked, frightened, freaked out and he knows that he should say something, but his brother is dying in Gabe's fucking basement! He can't. He can't do anything to stop this. Travis is on the phone already demanding an ambulance and the only thing Mikey can think of is I knew, I fucking knew, and let him anyway.
A life for a life because it's always like this, fucking always. He doesn't even know this boy, this boy they saved, that killed his brother, but that's not fair. He didn't kill Gerard; Mikey did, by not preventing this, by not stopping Gerard from being a fucking hero.
~+~
“Spence!” Ryan cries and the boy turns around, still naked, now shivering and Ryan flings his arms around Spencer and cries, fucking cries, (Mikey has never seen him that full of emotion, not even when he fucks him) and then his gaze lands on Gerard. Gerard's body, Mikey thinks in horror. He can't move; he just can't. He wants to reach out and grab Gerard's hand, but he can't move. His body doesn't obey him. Brendon is on Gerard in a second, ignoring everything and everyone around him.
“He's alive!” he says and Mikey breaks down and cries as well because Gerard is not dead, even if he fucking should be with all the blood pooling under him; a red sea.
When the ambulance arrives Alex doesn't ask any questions and Chibi doesn't either. They know what is there in the dark, what waits. They just do their job and will face reports later. It's a good thing Gerard was dating them both.
~+~
He looks pale, but alive and Ryan breathes easier. Spencer, beside him, looks fierce. He can't believe he has Spencer back, but he doesn't question it.
“Why are you not dead?” Mikey asks, and it's because Ryan knows his Ways that he doesn't flinch or do anything else that might cause a scene. Spencer is clutching his hand and he squeezes back. Spencer was a frog for years and everything is just different now.
“I have a theory,” Gerard rasps. He's still weak.
“Well, spit it out,” Mikey says, he's been clutching Gerard's hand since Gerard got to the hospital.
“The Lost Dagger,” Gerard answers.
“Of fucking course,” Mikey says. Ryan can see how the pieces fall together in his mind. Ryan has still no clue whatsoever as to what the hell is going on. “Fuck, you are immortal now, right?” Mikey asks softly. Gerard nods.
“What the hell? Explain!” Ryan says, Spencer gives him a look.
“The Lost Dagger, it's the one that Emilie got stabbed with, but the attacker, that person that wanted to kill her, didn't know how the curse works. It gives the person immortality, but only when you don't know about it.”
“You idiot! I told you not to mess with it!” Mikey says.
“He would be dead if he hadn't!” Ryan says sharply.
“And now he's cursed, with immortality! He can never die and death will be hovering over him and waiting for him, and we . . ."
“Are still mortal,” Ryan says, as the whole effects dawn on him. “We could just stab each other?”
“Doesn't work; we know it would give us immortality, so it won't. It will kill us slowly and painfully,” Mikey answers.
“But the curse will wander if we stab someone with it, right?” Ryan asks. Mikey nods.
“Don't you even fucking think about it! How can I give it away? Or kill someone? As you have to die...” Gerard says sharply. Ryan hates Gerard's conscience at times like these. “Besides, it wouldn't work if you're doing it, because you know what it does; both parties have to be clueless. It's quite brilliant actually,” Gerard adds. Ryan has to admit that it is.
“So what are we going to do?” Ryan asks.
“Live, fuck, what we did until I got cursed. I'm going to find a way to break the curse; there is always a counter spell, always. I just need to find it.” Ryan doesn't think it will be that easy. “So, you're Shakespeare?” he asks Spencer.
“Spencer, my name's Spencer,” Spencer says.
“Nice to meet you,” Gerard says with a soft smile. Ryan fucking loves that smile. Spencer smiles back.
“I brought you balloons! Black ones and red ones and some with skeletons on them! And fruits and cigarettes, but Lindsey took them away,” Brendon says upon entering the door. Spencer snickers beside him and Ryan knows exactly what he thinks, but Ryan also knows that Spencer will love Brendon, because Ryan does as well.
“Travis' sending flowers and potions . . .” Gabe says, Ryan can see William behind him, seems like they got their shit together for now.
“My own, I bet,” Gerard answers with a grin. Gabe grins back, taking out a cigarette.
“Happy birthday!” he says, throwing it at Gerard, who doesn't catch. It falls onto the top of the covers.
“You, my friend, are my favourite person right now,” he answers, adding after a short pause: “That I don't fuck.”
Mikey leans over to kiss him at the same second Ryan does. It's a bit awkward and Gerard's lips are too dry to feel really good, but Ryan doesn't want anything else.
Right now, right here, everything is perfect and if it should fall apart tomorrow he doesn't care. Besides wouldn't Mikey know?
~end~
~+~
Ryan's the one that opens the door and Gerard shouldn't be surprised, because he knows that Ryan is living with Brendon, but he somehow is nevertheless.
“Hi,” he says.
“Come in,” Ryan answers making room for him. “Brendon's in the shower.”
“Okay.” He feels a bit awkward. They haven't spoken since the day at Starbucks and that was five days ago. Mainly it's because Gerard's busy and he was being busy out of town. He still doesn't know what's wrong with Emilie except that she doesn't seem ill. She just seems to be human again and that’s good news, of course, but it still freaks them all out and that's why he needs Brendon. Brendon has to drive to Chicago and confirm it. If death is still lurking around, he will feel it. If death isn't, well . . . he has no idea, but he will figure it out.
“Want some coffee while you wait?” Ryan asks, he is stroking one long pale finger over a frog's back and Gerard's eyes are fixed to that movement. “Gerard?” and there is amusement in his voice. He looks up and into Ryan's face.
“Yeah, please,” he answers.
Ryan puts the frog - it must be Shakespeare as Brendon is whining about how Shakespeare loves Ryan more - in the pocket of his hoodie - which is totally Brendon's - and goes over to the small kitchen to make coffee. Gerard takes out his pack of cigarettes and lights one. He feels nervous and out of place, like something is watching him. He just can't put his finger on it yet. It might be Ryan. Everything about this situation with Ryan, and Mikey, is fucked up. He inhales deep and sighs. Ryan's back with his coffee as Brendon comes out of the bathroom in just a towel. Gerard thinks he's being punished for something he did in a former life maybe.
“You're early!” Brendon says, water is dripping down his neck and the curve of his shoulder and . . . Gerard isn't looking any farther down.
“You're late,” he answers.
“Sorry, but I got held up at work,” Brendon says, shrugging. “You've seen my green t-shirt?” he asks turning to look at Ryan.
“Under the couch cushions where you left it yesterday.”
“Right!” Brendon says, beaming. Gerard wonders if they're sleeping with each other. He isn't sure he wants to know. He's busying himself with his coffee while Brendon is putting on clothes in his living room. “I think I left my socks in the bedroom?” he says and Ryan rolls his eyes, but he goes over to get them. There are things Gerard wants to ask and he thinks he needs to apologize to Ryan again, but doesn't think now is the best time for it. He's pretty sure Ryan didn't tell Brendon about the Starbucks incident. “Thanks!” he says when Ryan throws his socks at him.
“Whatever. When will you be back?” he asks.
“Sunday evening; have work on Monday,” Brendon says with a look to Gerard. Gerard nods his head. Yeah. They should be back by Sunday. He finishes his coffee as Brendon finishes dressing.
“So, have a nice weekend?” Ryan says, touching Brendon's arm.
“Take care of Mozart and Shakespeare and go over to Mikey's for dinner on Saturday, yeah? So he doesn't feel alone. I texted him you would,” Brendon says.
“When?”
“In the bathroom,” Brendon answers with a smirk and then hugs Ryan and Ryan hugs back. “Don't make me a liar.”
“Okay,” Ryan answers. Brendon lets go of him and grabs his coat and Gerard gets up from the couch and does the same.
“Bye,” he says and Ryan nods with a small smile.
Gerard breaths in deeply when they're outside again. The spring air is still really cold and it burns his lungs a bit, but he doesn't care. He isn't sure he likes the idea of Mikey being alone with Ryan, but, on the other hand, it's Mikey. He knows how to take care of himself.
“You okay?” Brendon asks and he's frowning.
“Don't know; yeah . . . I guess? Sometimes this shit really gets to me,” Gerard answers, opening the car door.
“This shit always gets to you, Gerard,” Brendon says, sliding into the seat. Yes, of course, he thinks, but doesn't comment on it. He switches the radio on and starts the car.
~+~
Mikey doesn't really expect Ryan to come over for dinner on Saturday, but he cooks for two nevertheless. It's habit by now anyway.
He's putting his hollandaise sauce aside as the bell rings. It's kind of a perfect timing. He smiles.
“Hi,” Ryan says, he's wearing a bright orange scarf with his black jacket and Mikey is reminded of Halloween.
He smiles as he lets Ryan in. “Didn't think you would come.”
“I can't make Brendon a liar,” Ryan answers, following him into the kitchen.
“Sure,” Mikey says, shrugging.
“This smells really good,” Ryan says, sitting down.
“Thanks,” he doesn't know what else to say. It's Gerard who does the talking and he . . . well, he's just Mikey and there is nothing wrong with that. They eat in silence, but it's not uncomfortable. And after dinner Mikey makes coffee and puts cake on plates and they go over to the living room.
“Tastes good,” Ryan says between bites.
“Thanks, want to watch something particular?”
“No, anything is fine,” Ryan answers. Mikey switches the TV to MTV and sips his coffee.
“So . . . you're shaking up Gerard's world, hmmm?” he says after fifteen minutes of silence.
“What?”
“With being his model."
“Oh yeah, he asked . . ."
“I know,” Mikey says and hopes Ryan gets the meaning. Ryan does. “He didn't do it on purpose,” Mikey says.
“I guess, but it's too late now.” Ryan's playing with the last small piece of cake on his plate.
“For what?” Mikey wants to know.
“Taking it back?”
“He wouldn't mind.”
“I want to do it- I . . .” he trails off.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Did you really sell your body?”
“It's not like I was standing under a street-lamp wearing practically nothing!” Ryan says, sharply.
“That's not what I said, or asked.”
“I guess . . . even if there usually wasn't any money exchanged,” Ryan answers. He doesn't sound ashamed, just resigned. Mikey nods. He kind of knew that.
~+~
“She has a cold,” is the first thing Bob says as he opens the door and then: “Hi!”
“Hi, Bob,” Brendon says, waving a little.
“Come in, she's in the living room.” Bob ushers them in and when they enter the living room Emilie waves and then coughs.
“I can't remember ever being this ill,” she says with a soft smile. Brendon thinks she still looks really beautiful. Her red hair is in a ponytail and she is huddled under a mountain of blankets, like any other person would be. The thing is, she is not any other person. She is Emilie who, can't die. She also doesn't get sick.
“You want something to drink?” Bob asks. Gerard nods. Brendon does as well. He isn't sure he wants to touch her. The last time wasn't too pleasant. He sits down next to her and she smiles at him.
“I think I'm slowly turning human again,” she says. He nods, he thinks that as well. The dark around her isn't that solid anymore, like death isn't sure he wants her still. He takes a deep breath and takes her hand in his. He's immediately surrounded by humid earth and darkness. He pushes past it and the rising panic, he doesn't even know how he does it. The hovering presence behind her is death and he doesn't look. Death seems to follow her recurrently like he isn't sure anymore. There is still something about her that he wants, but it's fading.
He gasps and lets go of her hand.
“You okay, Brendon?” Gerard asks.
He nods; he isn't sure he is, but he nods.
“So, what is wrong with her?” Bob asks.
“She's human. I mean, she's getting there and death seems kind of distracted . . . I can't really explain it and I can't say why, but she isn't cursed anymore,” Brendon says.
“You look pale,” Emilie says and sneezes. “Sorry.”
“It's normal,” Bob say, handing her a handkerchief with a smile.
“Thank you,” she answers. “So, I'm not cursed anymore?”
“I think so, but I can't say why . . .” Brendon says.
“My curse is slowly fading, but why now?”
“Did it happen suddenly?” Gerard asks.
“It's slowly fading, Gerard . . .” Bob says.
“I know but did something unusual happen before it started?”
“No.”
“When did it start?”
“Two weeks ago, maybe?” she muses.
“Hmmm,” Bob nods.
“And there was nothing?” Gerard asks again.
“No, business as usual.”
“Still, something must have caused it,” Gerard says. Bob nods.
Brendon is looking at Emilie, even ill like that she seems so much happier than the last time he saw her.
He smiles at her and she smiles back.
~+~
Brendon looks exhausted when he comes back Sunday evening. Ryan puts the guitar aside and gets up from the couch. Brendon smiles at him.
“And?” he asks. It's not that he really believes that Brendon is cursed, but since he is living here he learned that this stuff is serious business for them all.
“Her curse is slowly fading,” Brendon says. Ryan doesn't know how she was cursed or what the curse did to her, he doesn't want to know these things.
“But?” Ryan asks.
“I think it's more like it's transferring,” Brendon answers, sitting down on the couch.
“Where?”
“Don't know . . . someone else?” Brendon says, he doesn't know how he knows these things, he just does and death seemed to wait for something or someone.
“But why?” Ryan is standing in the kitchen making tea and a sandwich for Brendon.
“I don't know! I just know things since I drank that poison okay? I just- And sometimes I can feel what happened to someone . . .” he adds and Ryan freezes.
“Did you know when you took me home?“ Ryan asks, turning around; knife still in hand and tomato juice dripping on the floor. “Did you?” he demands.
“No . . . Yeah, I had a sense of something awful happening to you, but I don't know what.” Brendon looks stricken.
“Oh,” Ryan says, breathing easier.
“It's not because of that that I took you in . . .” Brendon says. “It's not because of that that I didn't kick you out,” he adds with a smile.
“It's because Shakespeare loves me,” Ryan answers.
“Yeah, it's because of that,” Brendon says with a grin. “You know, you can tell me.”
“I know,” Ryan says, turning around to the tomato.
~+~
Mikey is smoking on the small balcony of his bedroom and thinking things through. Until now nothing bad happened. So maybe he, or they, did something to prevent the dream from coming true, without even knowing it. Doesn't seem likely, but stranger things have happened. He inhales deeply and lets the smoke burn his lungs.
Gerard is in the studio painting a portrait of Ryan. Naked. And Mikey really doesn't want to think about it, but it's really difficult when you know what Ryan sounds like when he's about to come. He's glad Gerard doesn't know that just yet and maybe never will, even if that future is unlikely as well.
He flips the butt onto the grass in the backyard and contemplates lighting a new one when a noise from downstairs stops him dead in his tracks, his fingers curling hard around the balustrade.
Could be anything, but it sounds like bodies colliding against the door with great force.
He sighs and goes downstairs.
~+~
He honestly doesn't know how he finds himself pressed against the door with a naked Ryan kissing him breathlessly. The doorknob is digging painfully into his back. He doesn't care. He's wanted to feel Ryan's lips against his own from the first time he saw him, what he wants more is to feel Ryan's fingers against his skin, bracketing his hips maybe.
“God,” he says and Ryan grins against his lips, his hips digging into Gerard's. Gerard lets one hand slide down Ryan's thigh and feels him shiver and press even closer, rubbing slowly against Gerard's body. Gerard really wants to get him off, to watch his face when he falls apart. His thoughts flash to Mikey for a split second and he bites his lip to keep a moan in. Ryan's body feels hard and hot under his hands and his skin is flushed as he rubs his erection slowly against Gerard's hip. It must hurt a bit what with Gerard wearing jeans and Ryan being naked, but Ryan doesn't seem to care. He kisses Ryan again and Ryan moans into his mouth. His right hand curls around a too bony hip hard and the other in Ryan's hair. He is so turned on, it kind of hurts.
He hears Ryan's hard, fast breathing, feels it on his skin where Ryan burrows his head in his neck. The knock startles Ryan into orgasm, he groans as Ryan's teeth sink into his skin.
“Fuck!”
His head whips around at the familiar voice. Ryan is breathing hard and panting, licking over the bite mark slowly not caring at all that Mikey is in the room as well. Standing in the other doorway.
~+~
It's not like he didn't know. He knew how Ryan looks when he comes, but he didn't know how his brother looks when he is turned on. He bites his lip and closes the door, leaning heavily against it.
“Fuck,” he says again with feeling. It seems this future is still a possibility, more certain now than just a few hours ago even. He walks over to the living room, sits down on the couch, and lights up another cigarette.
~+~
“Sorry,” Ryan says, licking one last time over Gerard's abused skin and stepping back - he isn't really sure he means it though. He feels spent and loose and a bit tired.
“Need to change my clothes now,” Gerard answers.
“Yeah, but . . . maybe I should suck you off first?” Ryan asks and smiles at the moan that escapes Gerard's lips. Fuck, he thinks, Gerard is kind of beautiful in a way Ryan himself could never be.
“No . . . it's okay.” Gerard says to his surprise.
“I'm pretty good at it,” he answers. He really, really wants to feel Gerard on his tongue. He licks his lips at the thought and Gerard's eyes follow the movement.
“I bet,” he says. It kind of pisses Ryan off; it's like something inside him fights what people are thinking or saying about him because they aren't allowed to. Ryan is the only one that can say these things; who can call Ryan a whore. Gerard closes his eyes and breaths in, and then out. He lights a cigarette and sits down on the floor, dropping ash into a forgotten cup. Ryan slings his arms around his body and watches Gerard. He seems calmer now.
“You going to paint some more?” he asks.
Gerard nods, “In a few minutes.”
So Ryan sits down in the overstuffed old chair, curls up and waits. The studio is warm so it doesn't matter that he is naked and sweat is cooling on his skin. He feels good, a bit evil, but mostly good.
It always feels good to get something you've wanted for a long time and he'd wanted this since he first heard Gerard sing about all the things he was feeling inside and was only able to express on paper. Gerard screamed them out into the world.
He watches Gerard putting the butt in the mug and getting up from the floor with heavy eyes. Maybe he needs more tea to get him through this. He stretches and gets up to pose again. Gerard isn't watching him; he is playing with a brush, staring at the canvas in front of him. It makes Ryan smile and he doesn't even know why.
~+~
“So . . .” Gerard says, scratching his head nervously.
“Guess we're in for some sex, hmm?” Mikey says, passing Gerard a cigarette.
“God, he . . . I didn't even know what was happening,” Gerard admits, nodding a thanks at his brother and inhaling deeply.
“He is kind of evil,” Mikey says.
“And broken,” Gerard says between two drags.
“It's so god damned you to find someone you can fix,” Mikey answers, but he is proud that Gerard is still trying.
“I don't need to fix you,” Gerard says, leaning into him. He raises an eyebrow. “You're perfect,” he adds. He says it in a tone that clearly states that Mikey should have known that.
Gerard is such a fucking sap.
~9~
~+~
“Ostara is a pagan feast,” Brendon announces at breakfast.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah and the Ways have a big party every year and you, my friend, are invited!”
“Is this code for orgy?” Ryan smiles.
“God, I fucking wish! That Greta girl is so fucking pretty . . . and she only comes to Jersey for Ostara and Gee's birthday,” Brendon answers and Ryan laughs.
“What? I told you, I'm straight!”
“It's hard to believe sometimes,” Ryan says, buttering a piece of toast for Brendon who is busy making tea. Brendon likes it when the butter melts on his bread. Ryan on the other hand likes his butter how it should be, so he waits for his toast to cool down a bit.
“It's this Sunday which sucks a bit, but hey . . .” Brendon says, putting mugs on the table.
“Do I need to wear a toga or something?”
“Ryan Ross! I'm scandalized . . . but also find the thought strangely hot,” he grins as he says it so Ryan knows he is joking.
“No toga then? I'm disappointed.”
“You can wear whatever you want,” Brendon answers.
“Hmmm.”
“You're coming right? Everyone will be there. Emilie and Bob, Vicky - she's part demon, but don't worry, she's nice - Greta, Jon and Haley and Gym Class Heroes and Midtown, and I bet William and Courtney as well!”
“I don't know any of these people, Brendon.”
“Exactly! You need to meet my friends, Ryan Ross, so they can adore you.” Brendon is smiling at him and he smiles back without meaning to.
~+~
The house is full of people and he feels kind of out of place. Brendon has a tight hold around his wrist and it's a reassuring feeling. He's dragging Ryan to meet people and he tries to just make a good first impression. There is no talk about magic or curses; it's just a nice meeting of friends and bands. He feels a tingle of something like sharp desire when he shakes William's hand. William looks apologetic, like it's his fault. Ryan shrugs it off. William is fucking pretty in a girly way.
“Gabe!” Brendon exclaims.
“Brendon and Brendon's friend!” Gabe says, hugging them both and smacking them on their asses with a leer. Brendon just laughs. Ryan gives Gabe a bitchy look.
“Ryan, his name's Ryan Ross,” Brendon answers.
“Ryro! I love that!” Gabe answers, hugging him again and Ryan just lets him, leans a bit into it.
“That's just Gabe for you,” Brendon says, as he drags him away and to meet Travis and the rest of his band.
“He is so different from what I imagined,” Ryan says. Brendon laughs.
“Yeah, he usually isn't as angry as his lyrics make him out to be. Travis, this is Ryan Ross!” Brendon says and Travis grins.
“Ryro! I like that!” he says, hugging Brendon and then Ryan. He is not trying to grope Ryan and he appreciates it.
“So, you've seen Greta?” Brendon asks, Travis grins.
“In the kitchen, talking to Bob and Emilie.”
“Show him around a bit more, while I'm going to say hi to Greta?” Brendon asks.
“Sure,” Travis says with an easy smile. Ryan thinks he kind of likes him.
“You've met Gabe?”
“Yes,” Ryan answers. “And William and I know Gerard and Mikey, and Gabe's band, and . . .” he is at a loss here; too many people.
“Want to grab something to drink and a smoke? I bet Jon is in the backyard smoking up with Disashi, those fuckers . . ."
“Sure,” Ryan answers, following him outside.
~+~
Mikey is passing the joint back to Jon as someone sits down next to him.
“Travis,” he says.
“And I brought you Ryro!” Travis says, claiming the joint from Jon. Jon falls back onto the grass and stares up at the sky, his toes wiggling in his flip-flops.
“Who?” he asks.
“Ryro!” Travis says pulling Ryan down next to him.
“Oh, Ryan . . . Hi, Ryan,” Mikey says.
“You're high,” Ryan answers with a small, soft smile; it looks good on him.
“Maybe."
“For sure,” Jon's mellow voice says.
He presses closer to Travis, because it's cold outside and he forgot his jacket in the kitchen. Travis feels warm.
“Here,” Ryan says, handing his scarf over. Mikey smiles.
“Thanks, Ryan.”
“Don't mention it,” Ryan says, shrugging. He wraps it around his shoulders and is sure that it looks totally stupid, but he doesn't care.
~+~
“I know how you look when you're about to come,” Mikey says into Ryan's shoulder. Mikey might be drunk, Ryan thinks. They're sitting on the top stairs, sharing Mikey's last cigarette while Gabe is stripping to Marilyn Manson in the living room.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah . . . and when on your knees and with Gerard's fingers tangled in your hair,” he says. Ryan swallows.
“You didn't see that, I wasn't on my knees in Gerard's studio that day,” he answers. He wanted to, but Gerard didn't let him.
“Not that day,” Mikey says, passing the cigarette over to him again.
“Oh . . .” Ryan is a bit at a loss here. The Way brothers are special, unique. He should have known that Mikey would be a freak like Gerard. He doesn't mind it at all, is the thing. “How do you know then?”
“I just do,” Mikey says, shrugging. He tips his head back and stares up at the ceiling. Ryan is reminded that Brendon told him Mikey could see the future, not that Ryan believes him. He doesn't. He takes a drag and then exhales slowly. He turns to look at Mikey, his gaze landing on Mikey's pale throat and the line of his neck, his Adam's apple, his stupid glasses. Mikey Way isn't obviously beautiful like his brother, but if you start to count the pretty parts, you can't stop doing it. He reaches out and strokes a long pale finger down Mikey's neck. Hears Mikey take a sharp breath and desire floods his veins.
He drops the butt of the cigarette into Mikey's soda can after one last drag and leans forward to trail his tongue over the path his finger was stroking a few seconds ago. He can feel Mikey's blood rush faster through his veins, his pulse speeding up. Mikey doesn't tell him to stop, just lets him, lets him do what he wants, lets him be in control of this and he needs that, needs to know that he is in charge here, because he wasn't able to control much in his life.
He's on Mikey in an instant, straddling his hips; licking, biting, kissing, tasting his skin, running his fingers through Mikey's stupid hair and it feels so fucking good to be able to do that, just give in; getting what he wants. Mikey falls back, his head hitting the dark wooden floor with a soft sound; Ryan can hear music and drunken laugher from the living room, but it's distant here, in the shadows. The only thing that seems real right now are them: Mikey's soft pants and the taste of his skin on Ryan's tongue. Mikey's hands running up and down his thighs.
“I was with your brother,” he says unnecessarily, because Mikey knows that, saw them in Gerard's studio that day.
“It doesn't matter. He knows,” Mikey answers and a moan escapes Ryan's lips. It's kind of fucked up and kind of hot, because how can that be, if even Ryan didn't know?
“You're sharing everything?” he asks as Mikey's hands slip under his shirt; cold fingers finding heated skin. Mikey's breath is ghosting over Ryan's lips, they're so close, not close enough.
“No, but we're good at it when we do,” he answers, before he's kissing Ryan again; messy and kind of soft. Ryan's mind flashes to all the possibilities these words could mean.
“Gerard didn't let me suck him, will you?”
Mikey's hips collide with Ryan's at those words, his hands tightening on Ryan's hips, and Ryan laughs softly. Mikey's grip is just this side of painful.
Ryan doesn't really think Mikey will.
“I'd love that,” Mikey says, pulling one hand out from under Ryan's shirt and dragging him down by his neck to kiss him hard and messily. “It's not the time and not the place though,” he adds, letting go of Ryan and closing his eyes. It's not a surprise to Ryan. He leans down, kissing Mikey's swollen lips softly and lies down on top of him, trying to catch his breath and listening to Mikey doing the same.
~+~
“How is she?” Gerard asks, leaning on the kitchen counter. The living room is still a place of sin and debauchery.
“Good . . . strange; I mean, it's strange and I'm worried about her all the fucking time,” Bob admits, lighting a cigarette.
“You don't want her to get hurt, that's understandable.”
“She hates it that I'm being all patronizing all of a sudden. The truth is I didn't need to be before, because she couldn't die or get hurt, not even a bruise.”
“Now she can and she can get older, and you and her can be a normal couple,” Gerard answers with a smile.
“Well, yeah, as normal as it gets being a hunter,” Bob says.
“You don't have to do that, if you don't want to,” Gerard replies, taking a drag form his own cigarette.
“I know.”
The thing is, Gerard does as well. Their lives could have been so very different from this, but it doesn't make much sense to dwell on it now. He nods and they smoke in silence.
~+~
For the first few seconds he doesn't know where he is, and then Courtney is glaring down at him and he knows exactly where he is.
“Wild night?” she asks.
He closes his eyes. He can't remember much; so, yeah, it must have been wild. “I was stripping to Marilyn Manson at one point. I'm pretty sure of that,” he answers, opening his eyes again.
“Good for you!” She is still glaring down at him and maybe he did a bit more than just strip in the Way's living room.
“So, spit it out! What the hell did I do?” he asks.
“Fucked some girl in a closet,” she answers.
“I did not!” he says hotly and too fucking loud and his head is going to explode any minute now.
“Pretty fucking close,” she huffs. He closes his eyes again. He thinks he owes her a thanks; at least, maybe a fruit basket or a nice pair of earrings.
“Thanks . . .” he says and then because it occurred to him: “Does William know?”
“He didn't see.”
That doesn't mean he doesn't know. Fuck, Gabe thinks. This shit is getting out of hand. He sighs and considers getting up and facing the day, but then just lies there.
Maybe she will make him coffee, if he looks miserable enough, and he thinks he does because he feels miserable enough.
~+~
Gerard is picking at the bandage absent-mindedly, the skin underneath itches and he just wants to scratch and be done with it.
“Don't do that,” Mikey and Brendon say at the same time. He sighs.
“It fucking itches!”
“My mom used to say that that's a good sign,” Brendon says.
“Yeah? It itches like a bitch.”
“You're totally over dramatic; drama queen,” Mikey says. Gerard glares at his brother. He is not a drama queen. Sure, he could've been one, but that ship has sailed.
“I think something is wrong with Shakespeare,” Brendon throws in. Gerard looks up from his palm and at him.
“What do you mean?”
“He seems ill, but the doc couldn't find anything; says he's fine. He's not. Also he's only sleeping when Ryan is and he isn't eating much either . . . Mozart is looking sad all the time now as well. I think Shakespeare is dying . . .” Brendon says.
“Ryan will be fucking crushed if that happens,” Mikey says, pouring coffee into mugs. Gerard nods. Ryan will. The frog is maybe the only living creature Ryan loves and that includes Mikey and himself.
“Could you look him over?” Brendon asks, hopefully.
“I'm not a vet,” Gerard answers.
“He is no normal frog,” Brendon says back.
“You should ask Travis, he has this thing going on . . . his Mojo or whatnot,” Mikey throws in.
“Travis has Mojo?” Brendon wants to know.
“Yep, Travis has Mojo and maybe he can help you figuring out what the hell is wrong with Shakespeare,” Mikey answers. Brendon beams at him and it's fucking blinding, Gerard thinks. For someone who has dealt with so much shit in their young life, Brendon is still so careless and naïve and just believes in things. It's stupidly endearing.
“I'm going to call him right away!” He takes out his phone and wanders over to the living room to talk with Travis. Gerard looks at Mikey as he lights a cigarette.
“You don't really think there is something going on with that frog, do you?”
“Grandma said I should watch out for them,” Mikey answers.
“When did you talk to grandma?” Gerard wants to know, the how isn't even important here. He knows there are ways, if you want to talk to a dead person, he just didn't think Mikey would consider any of them.
“Some time ago.” Mikey takes another drag of his cigarette and Gerard makes grabby hands at him. He rolls his eyes, but passes his smoke over. He takes a deep drag and lets it out slowly.
“When the dreams started?” Gerard asks, but he doesn't really need to. He knows it must have been around that time.
“Yeah . . ."
“You told your grandma you want to fuck your brother?”
Mikey shrugs. “Not in those words and she was your grandma too.”
Gerard wants to ask more questions but Brendon chooses this moment to enter the kitchen. He raises an eyebrow.
“He says he has no Mojo whatsoever,” Brendon says.
“He has and I'm going to talk to him. I swear he is going to look Shakespeare over,” Mikey answers.
“Thanks. I love you guys.”
“Yeah, we love you too,” Gerard says and it's the fucking truth. Mikey smiles as if he could hear Gerard's thoughts. Gerard shrugs. Brendon just shakes his head.
“You two are so fucking creepy, I swear.”
“Way charm,” they say in unison.
~+~
Ryan has three little birthmarks on the top of his left shoulder. Mikey never saw them before, not even in his dreams; it was too dark then. And there is a scar above his second rib and one on his upper arm. His long fingers can't quite hide it. He looks fragile and maybe he is, but more important that's how Gerard sees him.
“You're nearly finished,” Mikey says from the door. He's leaning against the frame. Gerard nods, not looking away from the canvas. “His hipbones look like they could cut something.”
“It's how he is,” Gerard answers.
“Pointy and sharp?”
“Yes, that too,” Gerard answers and Mikey can hear the smile in his voice. He finishes a soft highlight on Ryan's skin and puts the brush aside.
They are alone in the studio, because Gerard doesn't need Ryan for this part of the portrait.
“I made coffee, want some?”
“Yeah, can you bring it? I want to finish it today- I need . . .” he trails off and Mikey nods. It's not like Gerard would need to explain this.
“Sure,” he answers.
“I love you,” Gerard says, picking up the brush. Mikey doesn't tell that he loves Gerard too. Gerard knows that.
~+~
The thing is that maybe there won't even be any sharing. The way Mikey said it was somehow strange, but not in a bad way.
He puts his clothes on the couch and walks over to the bathroom naked. The apartment is warm and Brendon isn't home. Ryan doesn't know what Brendon is doing half the time anyway and he doesn't care either. Brendon has his own life, like Ryan. Just because they're sharing an apartment doesn't mean they are attached at the hip.
The water is warm for once, because Ryan was pestering the landlord until it got fixed two days ago. He leans his forehead on the tiles and lets it pour down his back.
When he allows himself to think about it, he is still in fucking awe that he's made out with both Way brothers. With fucking Gerard, whom he used to have wet dreams about, about all that too pale skin with blue veins that looks like marble, but doesn't feel like it at all; soft and yielding in places he himself isn't. He really wishes Gerard would let him suck his cock, or Mikey, for that matter, now that he knows he can have them both. A moan escapes his lips, he could have them both, maybe even at the same time. Mikey's hard bones under soft skin - so like his own and Gerard's pale flesh, like a girl's. His fingers curl around his dick, as he imagines Mikey's fingers around him, Gerard's mouth on his neck, his teeth maybe biting this side of too painful, revenge for this one time in Gerard's studio. He can nearly feel it, Gerard whispering into his ear and Mikey's hand teasing his entrance. He comes then, somehow unexpected and too early. He slides down the wall and sits down in the small tub, his knees pulled close to his body. He closes his eyes. Fuck, that just can't end well, can it? Nothing ever was fucking simple in his life, so why would that be, something he really wants?
He puts his head on his knees and just breathes, ignoring the water and Brendon yelling that he's home.
~10~
~+~
Late March is still cold, but it doesn't rain or snow anymore and it hasn't frozen since last Friday; maybe spring decided to make an appearance after all.
“Yo?” Travis asks because he doesn't know that number.
“Travis, my man!” Pete's fucking cheery voice says.
“Fucker, it's the middle of the night,” Travis answers, but he's grinning and he is sure Pete knows that.
“Patrick has a cold,” Pete says.
“You're cancelling a few gigs?”
“Patrick has a cold,” Pete repeats with emphasis.
Travis rolls on his back, but doesn't open his eyes. It's too fucking early. “You coming over then?”
“If the Ways let us stay . . ."
“The Ways fucking love you,” Travis answers.
“Mikey, for sure, but Gerard? I think he still hates me for what I put Mikey through,” Pete says, his voice soft and quiet.
“It wasn't your fault.”
“But if they hadn't tried to find me and help me and- I didn't believe them,” Pete says, miserably. Pete is such a fucking idiot, Travis thinks.
“They never thought you would. Gerard didn't even think they would be able to help you.”
“He's a mean potion master.”
“He's the Snape, man!” Travis answers and Pete laughs. “So, should I call the Ways for you? You know they're not taking any calls from strange numbers, and why do you have a new one anyway?”
“Got trashed in the last moshpit.”
“What the hell, Pete?”
“Yeah, it's not like I can't afford a new one, you know. Besides Patrick bitched me out for this shit as well, so . . ."
Travis can see him shrugging. They know each other too fucking well. “Yeah, so when will you guys be here?”
“Tomorrow, but I don't think Joe and Andy are going to stay - girlfriends,” Pete says.
Travis rolls on his side and looks out of the window, nearly dawn. “Mother fucker, should have called earlier!” He might as well get up now that he's awake.
“Yeah . . . Sorry, wasn't sure . . .” Pete trails off.
“Oh, hey, they know, it's not a big problem.”
“Call me back with news?”
“Yeah in a few hours.”
“I know man, we're talking about the Ways here,” Pete laughs and hangs up; that fucker. Travis smiles and gets up to make some coffee.
~+~
“Patrick has a cold,” Mikey says as he hangs up the phone in the living room. Gerard's head peeks out from under the sofa. Mikey doesn't even want to know what the hell Gerard lost.
“So, when are they coming over then?”
“Tomorrow.”
“We have to call Gabe,” Gerard says.
“I know, I already sent a text. I don't think this will be a problem. Gabe's basement is safe.”
“I know,” Gerard answers with a grin, holding up a green, glittery pen. Mikey doesn't roll his eyes.
~+~
“So . . . Mikey's friends with Pete,” Brendon says. Ryan isn't surprised. It seems Mikey is friends with everyone in the music scene, or knows someone who knows someone.
“Yeah?” He turns a page of Fight Club and doesn't look up. Shakespeare is sitting on a cushion beside him. He looks tired Ryan thinks.
“And Patrick has a cold,” Brendon says.
“I know that.”
“How?”
“The internet?” Ryan asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Right . . ."
“Brendon.”
“What?”
“What the hell are you trying to tell me?” Ryan asks a bit annoyed already. Sometimes Brendon just drives him crazy and not in a good way.
“He's staying at the Way's for a while!” Brendon blurts out.
“Okay . . .” Ryan says carefully.
Brendon rolls his eyes. “Want to meet him?”
“Yeah.” He does, he fucking does. Pete Wentz is one of the reasons he picked up a guitar in the first place. Like Gerard, he is Ryan's hero.
“Great. I'm going to text them that we're coming over tomorrow evening, after work.”
“Hey, Brendon?”
“Yeah?”
“The overdose?”
“It wasn't one . . . He got infected and they needed to tell the media something, you know?” Brendon says. No, Ryan thinks, he doesn't know.
“Infected with what?” he wants to know. Must be something fucking serious if overdose is the cover-up!
“Hmm . . . Don't think I should tell you. I mean, I would, but it's kind of his story to tell?”
“Like your curse?”
“I think he got it worse,” Brendon answers, shrugging and taking out his phone. Ryan knows that means he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. It's okay, maybe he will ask Pete tomorrow.
~+~
“Try not to suck him in our kitchen again, okay?” Gerard says, before he opens the door. Mikey glares at him.
“Gerard,” Pete says and Gerard nods. “Mikey!” Mikey is enveloped into a hug and hugs back.
“Come in guys,” he says, tugging Pete by the sleeve inside.
He's glad to see Pete before Gerard's birthday. They don't see each other enough, what with Fall out Boy touring and them not.
“Saved any lives since the last time I saw you?” Andy asks.
“Have you?” Gerard counters.
“As a matter of fact, yeah; Patrick saved a kitten from a car.”
“Patrick was always my favourite,” Gerard says, nodding. Patrick smiles and doesn't blush. He is older now, Mikey thinks. Everything's changed since the thing with Pete, but it only made them stronger it seems.
“Something to drink?”
“Yeah and food; I'm starving!” Joe says, sitting down on the couch.
“Sure, but we're waiting for Brendon and Ryan, if that's okay with you guys?” Gerard says, it's not like they will get their way anyway. It's kind of pointless to ask, Mikey thinks. Gerard gives him the finger. “It's being polite,” he adds.
Mikey rolls his eyes.
“God, you two are so fucking creepy,” Pete says, laughing and making Mikey sit beside him on the couch.
“Way charm!” Brendon says from the hall.
“Since when does he have a key?” Pete asks.
“Since . . . don't know. Can't remember giving him one either,” Mikey shrugs. It's not like it matters. Brendon is always welcome here.
“Good, these the guys we're waiting for?” Joe asks. Gerard nods. “Thank god!”
Brendon laughs, falling onto the couch beside Pete. Pete hugs him.
“You smell like a Happy Meal,” he says.
“Ryan thinks I smell good,” Brendon answers with a grin.
“Does he now?” Pete turns to look Ryan up and down, his arm still around Brendon. “Does he taste like one?” he asks Ryan. To his credit Ryan doesn't blush, but is saved by Patrick's hand on Pete's head. “Fuck! Trick! That fucking hurt.”
“Was supposed to,” Patrick answers, his voice all fucked up.
“I'm gonna make you tea with honey for your voice and you guys can order something . . ."
“Actually, we brought food from that Indian restaurant Ryan works at,” Brendon says and Ryan holds up three bags.
“I hope there is vegan stuff . . .” Andy says.
“As if I could ever forget!” Brendon answers, mock annoyed.
“Ryan?” Gerard says.
“Yeah?”
“Wanna help me in the kitchen?”
“Sure.”
~+~
“You're all starry eyed,” Gerard says, he's fucking amused by this.
“Yeah?” Ryan asks.
“Yeah, so wanted to fuck Pete as well when you were younger?” he wants to know, taking out plates and mugs.
“I still do,” Ryan answers. “Think he would let me?”
“No, I don't.”
“Am I not his type?”
“Mikey is his exception,” Gerard answers. He's not teasing anymore.
“So, he's really going to marry that Ashlee girl?”
“Reading much Perez Hilton?”
Ryan shrugs. “Maybe; so is he?”
“Maybe,” Gerard answers. Ryan really fucking wants to kiss Gerard right now - or suck him off, with all those people in the living room, just a door between them.
“Hey, Gerard?” he asks, his voice soft and Gerard turns to look at him. Ryan licks his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Let me suck you?”
“Now?” Gerard asks in disbelief; it's more like a shriek, really.
“Yeah . . . No one will know anyway.”
“Mikey will.”
“He knows already,” Ryan answers, closing the space between them in a few steps.
“We have a no sex in the kitchen rule,” Gerard says, but he is leaning over to Ryan as Ryan is leaning in to kiss him.
~+~
“So, you and Ryan?” Pete asks, Patrick is glaring at him. “What? It's a normal question!”
“I'm straight!” Brendon says, annoyed.
"So am I," Pete laughs.
“Besides: Mikey and Ryan.”
“Really?” Pete asks, shit eating grin in place. “Doesn't seem your type.”
“He isn't.” Mikey answers.
“But I saw you on the stairs, making out,” Brendon says.
“I didn't say we weren't . . . whatever. I just said he isn't really my type.”
“He's everybody's type!” Pete says.
“Not mine!” Brendon throws in.
“Or mine,” Andy says. “I bet Bob wouldn't fuck him either.”
“You guys don't count!” Pete answers hotly.
“Why the fuck not? Because we're straight?”
“Posh, straight, my ass! No, because you guys are in love.” Pete looks triumphant.
Mikey rolls his eyes.
“What the hell are they doing in the kitchen that takes so long?” Joe wants to know.
“I'm gonna look!” Brendon says, getting up.
“No, really, I'll go,” Mikey says.
He opens the kitchen door carefully and then closes it fast behind him. “Guys!” he says. Ryan doesn't even look up and Gerard tries to look guilty through his lust haze.
He fails miserably.
“Sorry, sorry . . .” he gasps.
“We have a no sex in the kitchen rule,” he hisses, but he doesn't look away from Ryan's lips around his brother's cock. He can't, is the thing.
“Sorry . . ."
“Gerard,” Mikey says and Gerard comes.
“Fuck, sorry,” Gerard says, patting Ryan's cheek.
“It's okay. It's not like I haven't done it before,” he answers. Mikey makes a note to himself that he should make Ryan go to a doctor, just to be sure he's clean.
“Get yourself together and, for god's sake, bring the food out!” Mikey says, grabbing the tray with the drinks.
“Sorry . . .” Gerard says again and he sounds kind of crushed. So Mikey turns to face him, puts the tray down and leans forward to kiss Gerard's cheek. He hears Ryan's breathing speeding up.
“I'm not mad at you,” he says and then turns to kiss Ryan, tasting remains of his brother. “Now hurry the fuck up!”
~+~
Pete stays until Easter Sunday and makes them all go to church just for the fun of it. Gerard is not fucking amused. It's too early and he kind of hates the Catholic church.
“Why do I have to suffer as well?” Ryan grumbles into his scarf. For early April it's still fucking cold. And the church is a small old one that doesn't seem to be heated.
“Because you fuck my brother, that's why,” Mikey whispers. Ryan shivers and it's not from the cold.
“It's because we love you,” Gerard says on his other side and Ryan doesn't know if he's joking or not.
“Shut up and take this shit seriously” Pete hisses from the front row. Mikey gives him the finger and a woman looks very disapprovingly. He ducks his head and tries to look like he belongs here. Ryan's learned a lot of things about the Way brothers in the last few weeks since the incident in the kitchen. It was like this one incident was all it took to make them into something, something more.
“You should pray,” Brendon whispers. Ryan suspects that Pete made them come here for Brendon's sake. Even if he doesn't understand why Brendon would want to go to church on Easter Sunday or any other given day for that matter. There are still a lot of things he doesn't know about Brendon.
“Why?” Ryan asks, he never went to church again after his mom left him with his dad. He doesn't believe in god, maybe he never did.
“So your sinful ways will be forgiven,” Brendon answers, but he's grinning like mad, so Ryan just smiles back at him. Also, as far as wordplays go this one is actually pretty good.
“You're going to buy us coffee afterwards, fucker,” Gerard hisses into Pete's ear and Mikey nods.
“Yeah, whatever . . .” Pete answers with a grin.
~+~
There is a small coffee shop a few blocks from the church and that's where they're going. Brendon's having cake with his tea and Ryan is stealing it from him.
“So, what was this all about?” Ryan asks Pete. He and Pete just clicked like he always knew - hoped - they would.
“Going to church? Well the Ways are Catholic . . .”
“On paper, not in practice,” Gerard says between sips of blessed coffee. Ryan thinks if there were a Coffee God the Ways would worship him, her, or it.
“Don't drag us into this,” Mikey throws in, also sipping coffee.
“I'm not, fuckers; I used to go Easter and Christmas. I like it and Brendon does as well.”
“Yeah,” Brendon says.
“Couldn't go Christmas because . . . you know.” He waves his hand in all directions and Ryan thinks that no, he doesn't.
“Your condition,” he says and Pete nods. It's kind of frustrating that no one seems to trust him, even if he's fucking both Ways and is living with Brendon. Well maybe that is the reason?
“Yeah . . . was a full moon on Christmas. That sucked, I was so fucking hyped and angry and vicious all the time . . . Ash made me pie. It tasted like the stuff Travis is baking,” he says with a grin. Ryan puts one and one together and still doesn't think it's two, because no way is Pete a werewolf, right?
“You are not a werewolf,” he states.
“You guys didn't tell him?” Pete asks.
“You are not a fucking werewolf, because this shit doesn't happen and besides there aren't such things as werewolves!” Ryan hisses.
“Ryan, chill . . .” Pete says.
“I. . . How come that all your friends are crazy?” he asks Brendon.
“Because they aren't and if they are, I am too,” Brendon answers, pulling the sleeve of his hoodie up, showing the ugly flower.
“Jesus . . ."
“You should have told him,” Pete says.
“You should've told him,” Mikey shoots back and Brendon nods.
“Hey, Ryan. I'm sorry,” Pete says. Ryan just can't believe this. This is not- This is unacceptable. “I was shocked as well when they told me and I didn't believe it,” he adds.
“You're lucky we're persistent bastards.”
“Guess I am. Better cursed than dead,” Pete answers with a smile and Brendon smiles back.
“Fuck,” Ryan says with emphasis.
“Welcome to the real world,” Pete says laughing.
~+~
The scar is long and even paler than the rest of Gerard's skin and it still itches from time to time, he can't help running his finger over it constantly. Ryan takes it into his hands and kisses along the long clean line.
“What did you do?”
“Cut myself on a dagger,” Gerard answers, shrugging. Ryan raises an eyebrow. “I was trying to find a cure to Emilie's curse . . .” he says.
“She isn't cursed anymore,” Ryan answers.
“Yeah, she isn't . . .” Gerard says and gets up.
“Hey!”
“Yeah, no; I need to call Ray and check some books and . . . just go and play with Mikey?”
“We aren't fucking children!” Ryan answers, but he's smiling, so Gerard knows he isn't in trouble. He knows that Ryan still doesn't believe half of the stuff they're telling him, but that's okay. It's not like he was born into it - like he, Mikey, Travis and William - nor did he have a traumatic experience to make him see the world how it really is - like Vicky, Brendon, and Pete.
~+~
“Something is wrong with your frog,” Travis says and he is somehow annoyed at himself that he didn't see it or feel it or what the fuck ever he is supposed to . . . whatever as a wizard.
“No shit,” Brendon says.
“I need to run a few more tests,” Travis says. Brendon is hovering over Shakespeare protectively and watching Travis do his job. “I have no clue why I didn't see it before,” he mumbles.
“What?”
“That is no frog!” Travis says.
“What?”
“That is a human being in there . . ."
“Do I need to kiss him? Wait! Ryan needs to kiss him. Ryan loves Shakespeare!” Brendon says excited.
“That's no Disney movie. We need to make mixtures and I need Gerard to help me with this spell and Mikey as well . . ."
“Will there be virgin blood and cat bones, because . . ."
“I don't know yet. Brendon, I need to do research, and, you, hang in there, buddy,” he says to Shakespeare.
~+~
“Maybe it's because the curse works like that or maybe the person who did that also put an enchantment on the curse so that no wizard that isn't actually looking for something very hard would find it . . .” Gerard says and thinks: I nearly killed him - Fuck, that is a vicious curse. Who the fuck would do something like that to someone?
“Who the fuck would do something like that?” Travis wants to know.
“No idea,” Gerard answers, he shifts his phone so he can reach the book on the top shelf. “Wait a minute, I have this book with dark spells, maybe there is a counter spell in there or the original human to animal spell.”
“We could work with that I suppose, but he's dying. I don't know how long he's . . . I don't know how much time we have,” Travis answers. Gerard nods, even if Travis can't see it.
“I'm on it,” he says. This is more important than the other thing he is working on right now. After all, a life is at stake here.
~11~
~+~
“I want to come!” Brendon says sharply.
“You can't help anyway,” Gerard answers. Ryan gives him a look.
“You can't come either. This will be messy and maybe even dangerous, we don't know enough about the curse. It might end in disaster,” Travis throws in. Mikey keeps silent. He dreamed something, he can't quite remember, something about frogs and Emilie. He just . . .
“I don't think you should do it,” he says quietly and everyone goes silent.
“What? That is a person!” Brendon is looking pissed off.
“I have this feeling . . .” he trails off.
“Did you see something?” Gerard wants to know. Mikey shakes his head. He didn't see anything. He just knows something is going to happen and it will not be good. He just knows that.
“Then we will carry on as planned,” Ryan says, steel in his voice.
“Gerard . . ."
“I will not die,” Gerard answers with a small smile. Ryan looks uncertain all of a sudden.
“He will not die, right? You didn't see him die, did you?” he asks Mikey.
Mikey shakes his head again. He didn't, but there was something.
“Everything will be okay, I promise,” Gerard says and Mikey wants to scream that he can't promise that. Didn't he learn from his mistakes? Not everything goes always as planned. They didn't plan on being in a relationship with Ryan, and, more importantly, with each other, but here they are, and Pete didn't plan to be fucking attacked by a werewolf, and survive and Vicky didn't plan . . . but Gerard knows that, knows it and is going to do something reckless anyway and Mikey can't do anything to stop it. Sometimes things need to develop, Elena said, but he doesn't think this should be one of those things.
“I'll kill you with my own hands if you die,” Mikey says and Gerard smiles at him.
“Deal.”
~+~
Shakespeare looks small and frighten and there is no one he knows or loves. There is just Gerard and Mikey and Travis.
“Listen, we are going to help you,” Gerard tells the frog.
“We're trying,” Travis throws in.
“You need to stay in the circle. Don't hop out. You need to stay there until the curse is lifted. It will protect you,” Gerard goes on ignoring Travis' words.
“Okay,” Mikey says, breathing in deeply. God, he needs a fucking cigarette right the fuck now, but Gabe's basement has no windows and he doesn't think it would be a good idea to smoke now what with Gerard purifying the room and all.
Gerard is singing softly while he paints runes with the smoke. Soon the circle is separated from the rest of the basement through a wall of smoke in different designs. Mikey takes a deep breath: it smells like basil and verbena, honey as well. He knows there is clover in the mix too, but he can't actually smell it. He's afraid. Gerard's never done a spell as powerful as this one, to give back someone their true form. Fuck, if his heart isn't pounding too fast in his chest. Travis is chanting low and familiar and Gerard looks at him and Mikey nods, takes the knife and slits his palm: blood freely given. He's sure Brendon or Ryan would've done it as well, but its better they are not here. Too many emotions interfering with the magic could lead to a disaster. The blood drips from his palm down his fingers, but doesn't have time to touch the floor, because Gerard catches it, weaves it into the smoke around them, lets it flow until they're encased in blood and smoke and magic. The magic is so strong that he loses his balance, falls down on his knees and sees Travis doing the same through the wall of blood and smoke. Gerard is still standing, still chanting, still demanding, concentrating the energy around him and then letting it go. The moment he lets go of it, directing it at Shakespeare, Mikey blacks out.
~+~
Waiting makes him ill. He was waiting for hours and sometimes days, sleeping in cheep plastic chairs in hospital corridors. When he left, when he left home (he makes himself think the word, even if it doesn't mean home anymore) he swore he would never ever be that helpless, feel like that: useless.
Brendon is pacing Gabe's living room restlessly. It makes Ryan want to scream, but he knows that's just Brendon's way of dealing with this stuff.
After all Brendon knows more about curses and all the horrible things that are out there to get you, all the things that can go wrong. Right now, in the basement.
“Would you please fucking sit down or something?” he says too sharply, but he really can't stand it anymore.
Brendon falls onto the couch, clutching a cushion and not looking at Ryan.
“I'm worried,” he says quietly and Ryan feels like an ass.
“Yeah, I know . . . but they know what they're doing, right?”
“Gerard fucking punched a werewolf! I don't care if they know what they're doing. This is reckless,” Gabe says and he is the fucking master of reckless, Ryan thinks.
“When he dies it'll be my fault,” he whispers.
“No one is going to die! They have Travis down there,” Gabe answers and Brendon nods with emphasis.
Ryan keeps quiet.
~+~
The thing is, Gabe thinks that they have a lot of good reasons to be fucking worried like hell. Gerard might be a talented wizard, but he is also kind of reckless because he thinks he needs to save everyone; one person at a time maybe, but the whole fucking world nevertheless. And that's just impossible. One person can't save the world. No one can do this shit alone. He wants to call William, badly, but William isn't talking to him. Or, well, Gabe hasn't tried since he woke up on the Beckett's floor that morning.
“I need some air,” he says to Brendon and Ryan and leaves for the small balcony. He takes out his phone and pushes one. William's been on speed dial since the night they met.
“Gabe,” William says, his voice soft and far away, too quiet. He's draining blood again and Gabe doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to think about the fact that William still picked up. “How is it going?”
“We're waiting and the basement is soundproof, so I don't know what the hell is going on down there and it makes me crazy and Ryan is full of guilt and Brendon is fucking miserable,” he answers. “I wish you were here,” he adds, without heat. It's just something he wanted to say. The wind picks up and he shivers, someone screams. “Fuck! Have to go!” he says, opening the door and running down the steps to the basement. The door is open and Travis is on his phone. Ryan is down the stairs with Brendon hot on his heels.
~+~
When he comes to his senses again, Gerard is lying on the floor, bleeding from numerous wounds. His black clothes are shiny with dark blood.
In the middle of the room is a boy, crouching; naked, frightened, freaked out and he knows that he should say something, but his brother is dying in Gabe's fucking basement! He can't. He can't do anything to stop this. Travis is on the phone already demanding an ambulance and the only thing Mikey can think of is I knew, I fucking knew, and let him anyway.
A life for a life because it's always like this, fucking always. He doesn't even know this boy, this boy they saved, that killed his brother, but that's not fair. He didn't kill Gerard; Mikey did, by not preventing this, by not stopping Gerard from being a fucking hero.
~+~
“Spence!” Ryan cries and the boy turns around, still naked, now shivering and Ryan flings his arms around Spencer and cries, fucking cries, (Mikey has never seen him that full of emotion, not even when he fucks him) and then his gaze lands on Gerard. Gerard's body, Mikey thinks in horror. He can't move; he just can't. He wants to reach out and grab Gerard's hand, but he can't move. His body doesn't obey him. Brendon is on Gerard in a second, ignoring everything and everyone around him.
“He's alive!” he says and Mikey breaks down and cries as well because Gerard is not dead, even if he fucking should be with all the blood pooling under him; a red sea.
When the ambulance arrives Alex doesn't ask any questions and Chibi doesn't either. They know what is there in the dark, what waits. They just do their job and will face reports later. It's a good thing Gerard was dating them both.
~+~
He looks pale, but alive and Ryan breathes easier. Spencer, beside him, looks fierce. He can't believe he has Spencer back, but he doesn't question it.
“Why are you not dead?” Mikey asks, and it's because Ryan knows his Ways that he doesn't flinch or do anything else that might cause a scene. Spencer is clutching his hand and he squeezes back. Spencer was a frog for years and everything is just different now.
“I have a theory,” Gerard rasps. He's still weak.
“Well, spit it out,” Mikey says, he's been clutching Gerard's hand since Gerard got to the hospital.
“The Lost Dagger,” Gerard answers.
“Of fucking course,” Mikey says. Ryan can see how the pieces fall together in his mind. Ryan has still no clue whatsoever as to what the hell is going on. “Fuck, you are immortal now, right?” Mikey asks softly. Gerard nods.
“What the hell? Explain!” Ryan says, Spencer gives him a look.
“The Lost Dagger, it's the one that Emilie got stabbed with, but the attacker, that person that wanted to kill her, didn't know how the curse works. It gives the person immortality, but only when you don't know about it.”
“You idiot! I told you not to mess with it!” Mikey says.
“He would be dead if he hadn't!” Ryan says sharply.
“And now he's cursed, with immortality! He can never die and death will be hovering over him and waiting for him, and we . . ."
“Are still mortal,” Ryan says, as the whole effects dawn on him. “We could just stab each other?”
“Doesn't work; we know it would give us immortality, so it won't. It will kill us slowly and painfully,” Mikey answers.
“But the curse will wander if we stab someone with it, right?” Ryan asks. Mikey nods.
“Don't you even fucking think about it! How can I give it away? Or kill someone? As you have to die...” Gerard says sharply. Ryan hates Gerard's conscience at times like these. “Besides, it wouldn't work if you're doing it, because you know what it does; both parties have to be clueless. It's quite brilliant actually,” Gerard adds. Ryan has to admit that it is.
“So what are we going to do?” Ryan asks.
“Live, fuck, what we did until I got cursed. I'm going to find a way to break the curse; there is always a counter spell, always. I just need to find it.” Ryan doesn't think it will be that easy. “So, you're Shakespeare?” he asks Spencer.
“Spencer, my name's Spencer,” Spencer says.
“Nice to meet you,” Gerard says with a soft smile. Ryan fucking loves that smile. Spencer smiles back.
“I brought you balloons! Black ones and red ones and some with skeletons on them! And fruits and cigarettes, but Lindsey took them away,” Brendon says upon entering the door. Spencer snickers beside him and Ryan knows exactly what he thinks, but Ryan also knows that Spencer will love Brendon, because Ryan does as well.
“Travis' sending flowers and potions . . .” Gabe says, Ryan can see William behind him, seems like they got their shit together for now.
“My own, I bet,” Gerard answers with a grin. Gabe grins back, taking out a cigarette.
“Happy birthday!” he says, throwing it at Gerard, who doesn't catch. It falls onto the top of the covers.
“You, my friend, are my favourite person right now,” he answers, adding after a short pause: “That I don't fuck.”
Mikey leans over to kiss him at the same second Ryan does. It's a bit awkward and Gerard's lips are too dry to feel really good, but Ryan doesn't want anything else.
Right now, right here, everything is perfect and if it should fall apart tomorrow he doesn't care. Besides wouldn't Mikey know?
~end~