Chickens fic.
Title: Chickens, Crop Hops and Newbs (3/?)
Author: pretty_paulie
Pairing: Frank/Gerard (eventually)
Rating: R for this chapter, NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: This is fiction. As far as I know Frank Iero does not live on a farm.
Summary: As a young boy growing up on a secluded mixed farm in rural Virginia, Frank had a thing for baby chicks. Yes, he knew that they would eventually develop into ugly, loud chickens, but he couldn’t help himself. He loved that they were all soft and small, with fluffy wings and adorable black eyes. He loved the way they waddled and they way they hopped awkwardly to him whenever he fed them in his family’s barn.
Warnings: Language, Chickens and teenagers full of hormones
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Thanks to everyone who has read. This is one of my favorite chapters and the longest one so far and I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I do. Comments and Concrit most definitely welcome.
Also, I'm posting this fic to my journal now, so I may post it here before I post in any communities so check here if you want to know when it will be updated. Now... on to the fic!
Mikey motioned with his hand for Frank to follow him as they exited the school. He hadn’t spoke a word to Frank since they had left the office. He walked ahead Frank, looking down and tapping out something on his Sidekick, ignoring him.
He lead Frank to a brown, rusting Pontiac Persianne from probably around 1986 with a New Jersey licence plate. Mikey yanked the door open to the drivers side and muttered: “Get in.”
Frank opened the door, thinking that maybe he was right about Mikey being a murderer.
The door lead out a very loud squeak, disrupting Frank’s thoughts. He looked down at the seat to find cigarette burns in the seat, crumbs from who-knows-what on the seat, and fast food wrappers and Coke bottles littering the floor. Frank didn’t really want to know what else could be lurking in there. He hesitated and wondered where the hell he was going to put his guitar, since the back of the car was crowded with suitcases and blankets.
“Well are you going to get in or what? I don’t think your mom would like if I drove all the way here and then back to your place without you actually being there,” came Mikey’s voice. He looked up at Frank, bored expression on his face, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, impatiently.
“My guitar?” Frank started-
“Throw it on top of that shit,” Mikey gestured to the back seat.
Frank just stood there.
Wanting to actually get going, Mikey leaned over to the passenger’s seat, grabbed Frank’s guitar and tossed it into the back seat.
Shocked at the harsh treatment of his guitar, Frank ducked his head and climbed into the car, brushing the litter off the seat. He felt around for the seat belt, only to find that the belt was stained with something sticky and was ripped. There was could no way it could be fastened. He awkwardly held the belt out and turned to Mikey, expecting him to do something about it.
Mikey paid him no attention. He was too busy fiddling with his iPod and then yanking out the earphones attached it. He inserted a wire which was attached to a tape and shoved it into the tape deck. “Couldn’t get a CD player in here. Too old,” Mikey muttered, thumbing the iPod until music filled the car.
It sounded familiar. Fast 4/4 time, solid punk beat, then the raw, hurried vocals. Frank knew this. He drummed his fingers on the dashboard, trying to stop the urge of singing along.
Mikey must have noticed Frank rocking out, he disrupted Frank’s head banging with: “You like the ‘Souls?”
Frank turned to Mikey, eyes bright and nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I mean, yeah! Bouncing Souls! I fucking love them! I want them to play at my wedding!” Frank grinned at Mikey like he was going to either attack him or do something stupid like go running through the streets naked. Either way, it was freaking Mikey out.
Mikey just raised an eyebrow and looked at Frank like he was the most insane person he ever met. “…Okay...” he answered, his voice slightly higher. “Um… so. We’ll uh, go back to your place, then.” He pulled the car into ‘Drive’, signalled and pulled the car away from the sidewalk unto the street.
“You know how to get to my place?” Frank asked, still bouncing in his seat. He was still acting fucking giddy. He was only this fucking giddy around the baby chicks, when he played his guitar or when he rocked out to the music he loved.
“Well, yeah… I kind of drove from your house to here…lots of fucking trees,” Mikey answered, turning the car unto Main Street, trailing a really slow car. It was probably one of those old ladies that drive too slow and shouldn’t even have the permit to drive.
Main Street was full of brick buildings, two restaurants, a few little boutiques, a doctor’s office, a pharmacy, and two grocery stores. It was rather dull. It ran for about two blocks until it hit a gas station and the rail road tracks. There was a surprising amount of cars parked on each side of Main Street. Well, it was Crop Hop tonight so maybe that was what brought the crowd in.
“It’s usually not this busy,” Frank commented, turning around, glancing out the back window.
“This is busy?” Mikey asked, shocked. “There’s only a few cars…” Mikey turned the car off Main Street and over the rail road tracks. He turned his head sharply to the left and then to the right to make sure there weren’t any trains coming. The coast seemed clear so he stepped on the gas.
“It’ll probably get busier tonight. Since it’s the Crop Hop and I’m playing-”
Mikey raised an eyebrow at him, “It’ll get busy because you’re playing?”
Frank’s eyes widened, “No, no, no. I was just saying that more people will be coming into town tonight. Me playing has nothing to do with bringing the people in, but it would be cool if it did. Because I am really fucking good, if I do say so myself.” He paused, regretted what he just said and looked down at his hand that was tugging at the rip in jeans. It was a nervous habit of his. Well, he was trying to befriend this guy. And Mikey had seemingly good taste in music, but Mikey just looked unimpressed by whatever Frank said. What was he doing wrong? Yeah, Frank was a newb at making friends.
Mikey just nodded, looked down at the iPod and selected another song.
The Smiths filled the air.
This wasn’t going that good… maybe Mikey thought Frank was some kind of country hick or something. Frank clicked his tongue nervously and looked out at the vast amount of pine trees that surrounded the road.
“You’d probably get along with my brother. He thinks he’s good at everything too,” Mikey said, chuckling, eyes still on the road.
“He’s here?”
“No,” Mikey answered shortly.
Well where the hell was he? Why wasn’t Mikey sharing the details? Frank glanced curiously at Mikey, expecting him to say something.
When Mikey finally realized Frank was staring at him a little weirdly, he asked, exasperated: “What?!”
Frank averted his eyes back to the rip in his jeans and quietly spoke: “I was, uh, just wondering where your brother is…”
“Oh. He had an interview for a job this morning. He’s a cartoonist. Well, no. He just graduated from art school last month. He’s pitching his idea for some cartoon today. He said if they want him, he’s not coming down here. And if they think his cartoon is shit, he’ll fly down.”
“Oh…” Frank nodded, thinking about what to say next. Nothing. So he settled with: “Do you think his cartoon is shit?”
Mikey just stared at road, not exactly the reaction Frank expected since he asked a dumb question. “Sort of,” Mikey paused and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’s about a monkey who talks in weird voices and is obsessed with breakfast,” he turned to Frank and grinned.
“Weird shit,” Frank smiled back.
“Yeah. I totally dig the shit he does with like, vampires and zombies and stuff… but that monkey was the most cracked out idea ever. Probably ‘cause he was with this fucking drug addict at the time.”
“Weird,” Frank answered, hoping Mikey would continue…it was better than silence.
“Yeah, I told him so many times to dump that guy’s ass. But that’s just Gerard. He doesn’t fucking think sometimes.”
“I never knew any drug addicts,” Frank answered, simply because he didn’t know how to respond to Mikey’s rant.
“Lucky. This guy that Gerard was dating, Bert… he like fucking begged Gerard for money for drugs and stuff. Well, when they got together it was all good because we thought Bert was a reasonable guy and wouldn’t do any heavier drugs. But when I found out he was going around whoring himself out to guys for money for drugs… that was just the end of it. So I told Gee about it and he said I was just trying to fuck up his life… but he found out in the end,” Mikey nodded. “Just picks the worst people to be in relationships with,” he paused to think about what he just said. “Well, no wait… He’s thinking of dating this pretty awesome chick now. I hope he does…”
Automatically thinking of his feathered friends, Frank spoke up: “Chick?” Shit, he didn’t mean to actually say that. No, a girl, you idiot, he thought. Frank mentally slapped himself on the forehead. “No, never mind.”
“Yeah. So what do you do around here for fun?” Mikey asked, gesturing to the forest that surrounded them.
Wow, that was a quick change of subject. “Uh, well, people go to like, bush parties and uh, parties in towns near by. And go to Hoo-ville and -”
“What the hell is ‘Hoo-ville’?” Mikey interrupted, turning the car unto another gravel road. Frank’s farm was only another ten miles away.
“Charlottesville. That’s what they call it.”
“Ah. So you go to parties and stuff you said?”
“No… the people in this town are fucking retarded preppy newbs and I wouldn’t be caught dead at their parties. And plus, this guy Carter…he pretty much wants to kill me. So I just stay at home and like, play guitar and read comics and watch movies…hang out with my chicks,” he muttered.
“Chicks? At least your friends with some girls. Are they hot?” Mikey asked, excitedly. “Will I get to meet them?”
Frank didn’t want to admit to Mikey that the “chicks” weren’t actual girls because he would seem like a newb or a complete loser. Frank bit at his lip, trying to decide what to say.
“Dude, will I meet them?” Mikey asked again.
“Uh…yeah, sure,” Frank answered, attempting to smile back at Mikey.
“Sweet! This place isn’t as shitty as I thought!” Mikey laughed, reaching over and playfully punching Frank’s arm.
Frank just tried to laugh and fake a smile.
*
When they got to the farm, Frank was immediately introduced to Mikey’s mom. She was having coffee at the table with Frank’s mother. She had long wavy blond hair, wore a flashy black t-shirt with sequins and had extremely long nails. She seemed nice enough though. She practically ran and Frank and exclaimed: “Linda! Look how much Frankie’s grown!” She lunged at Frank: “The last time I saw you was when you were a baby!” She hugged Frank tightly, as Frank awkwardly patted her back, freaked out.
“Mom, don’t choke the dude,” commented Mikey, with sympathy.
“It’s okay,” Frank lied, as Donna continued to squeeze him.
When she pulled away and murmured, “Frankie, your hair! I’m surprised your mother here let you do it. It’s so…colourful. ” She turned to throw Frank’s mom a smile.
“I didn’t even know he did that!” Linda Iero answered, gesturing for Mikey to take a seat.
“Mom, his hair’s not colourful,” Mikey said to Donna while pulling out a chair from under the table. “It’s like, only blond and black. Since when is that colourful?”
Donna just rolled her eyes at Mikey.
As Mikey sat down at the kitchen table he raised his eyebrows at whatever was placed in front of him and picked up a sheet of something that was on the table. “What the hell are these?” he questioned.
Frank didn’t know what Mikey was talking about since he was too busy getting some juice out of the fridge. He opened the cupboard, took a cup, and turned around to see what Mikey was talking about.
“Oh, Mikey. It’s just your high school graduation picture from last year. The Iero’s need pictures of you and Gerard, they’re practically family,” commented Donna, taking the picture of Mikey from Mikey’s hand and passing it to Linda.
Frank managed to sneak a glance at the other picture, which Mikey was now holding. It was a portrait of a guy with shoulder length black hair, curling up to his jaw. He had stunning hazel eyes and incredibly pale skin, porcelain. But, God, the way looked in that picture, there was definitely something sexual about it… making Frank feel like he was looking at one of his porn magazines.
Frank gulped, eyes wandering to the guy’s lips. Pink lips softly parted and the expression in his eyes, seductive, knowing, but yet, somewhat innocent. Frank didn’t know. The guy was leaning against a brick wall in a black coat, arms crossed. There was something about the way he just stood there against the wall, like it was the only thing holding him up... and looked at whoever took the photo that made Frank blush.
“Ew! Gee looks like a whore in this picture,” Mikey said throwing it down on the table.
“Mikey don’t say that about your brother!” Donna lectured, taking a sip of her coffee.
“But he does! I think Bert took that picture… Yuck, I don’t wanna know what they did after that-”
“Mikey!” Donna exclaimed, taking the picture away from him. “I couldn’t find another picture of him around the house, so we’re giving them this one,” she shook her head at Mikey in disappointment. “Here, Linda. That’s Gerard,” she said, passing the picture to Linda.
“Frank, just look at it! Tell my delusional mother that Gee does in fact look like a whore!” Mikey said, motioning to Frank to look at the picture.
“He looks quite handsome,” Frank’s mom said, handing the picture to Frank.
With that, Frank immediately stopped listening to whatever the hell Mikey, Donna and his mom were talking about, placed his cup down on the counter and gazed down at the photograph finally in his own hands. He knew his mom was right, this guy was hot - beautiful, even - but Frank just knew that he’d be too fucking scared to even talk to this guy in person. Frank knew that this guy probably deserved someone really, really attractive and hell, he probably was with really, really attractive people all the time and most definitely wouldn’t want to have anything with a country hick.
Frank brought the picture closer to his face, eyes falling back down to the guys lips again. By the way they were parted, it looked like he was begging for someone to kiss him. Frank bet that the guy’s lips were probably really soft and he wondered what it would be like… to kiss the guy. Frank bet that the way the guy kissed would be full of passion and teeth and tongue and aggression and then after that, soft and slow. He could just imagine it, he tried not to bring his hand up to touch his own lips.
He ran his finger over the photograph, over where the guy’s body would be. He was sort of on the chubby side, but it suited him. Frank liked it and if he would touch, oh, fuck, what Frank would to do him, touching all of the pale skin, fingers in his dark mane, swollen lips on his… Frank immediately felt his dick twitch with excitement and glanced up to see if anyone was noticing him.
The coast was clear. Mikey was telling Frank’s mom about some band he was thinking of joining or something, while Donna argued with Mikey, insisting that he should stay in college.
Frustrated, Frank tossed the picture down on the counter and picked up his cup, took a sip of the juice. He swallowed the juice down his dry throat, and suddenly realized he had to feed the chicks. And he sort of wanted to tell them how hot he thought that guy was… well he had nobody else to tell and it was definitely getting too hot in there and he had to talk himself down.
“Uh, excuse me, but I’m going to go feed the chicks now,” Frank said, quickly running for the door so nobody would question him.
Frank opened the gate and scattered the feed, as the baby chicks scurried and pecked at the ground. He ranted about what an ass Carter was and how much he wanted that guy, Gerard…in the photograph. He stoked their soft down and stayed with them until he heard his mom call him in to spend time with Mikey, quit ignoring their guest.
Frank lead Mikey to his room and Mikey commented on how cool he thought it was that Frank had all of the ‘Jaws’ movies. Frank showed Mikey his CD collection and Mikey seemed pretty enthusiastic about it, commenting on certain albums and which songs were the key tracks. They seemed to able to talk about anything related to music and Frank finally thought he had found an actual friend.
Frank learned that Mikey played bass and they seemed to have a good conversation going about a band that Mikey wanted to join, when Linda poked her head into Frank’s room telling them that is was already six o’clock and it was time to go to town for the Crop Hop Supper held at the town hall.
Frank grabbed his electric guitar, shoved it into it’s case and headed out to get his acoustic from the Way’s car. He placed both guitars on the back of the his dad’s truck and he and Mikey climbed in, waiting for their mothers.
“Uh, Frankie?” Mikey asked, uncertainly, stuffing his SideKick back into the pocket of his hoody.
“What?”
“What’s with your dad… uh, if you don’t mind me asking. I was just wondering where he uh, is and you haven’t talked about him or anything,” Mikey tried not to make eye contact with Frank. Well, that was true.
“Uh, to be honest, my dad and I don’t have a really good relationship, but for the last few days, he’s been going to like, these auction sales with my grandpa trying to sell our cattle. So I guess that’s why you didn’t get to meet him,” Frank shrugged.
“Oh okay,” Mikey nodded, a little relieved.. “Oh yeah! And Gerard just messaged me. He said he flew down because they didn’t like his pitch for the cartoon. Said he rented a car and he’s at the Crop Hop thing already.”
“He’s coming uh… here?” Frank swallowed, trying not to blush, trying not to hyperventilate, trying not to do, well, anything. Well come on, he had a thing for a dude he saw in a picture! And now, he was actually going to see him in person!
“Yeah, he is,” Mikey answered, while their mothers climbed into the car.
Frank felt like he was going to pass out, as the truck’s engine came to live, moving along the road, closer to the Crop Hop, the town and Gerard.
next chapter
Author: pretty_paulie
Pairing: Frank/Gerard (eventually)
Rating: R for this chapter, NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: This is fiction. As far as I know Frank Iero does not live on a farm.
Summary: As a young boy growing up on a secluded mixed farm in rural Virginia, Frank had a thing for baby chicks. Yes, he knew that they would eventually develop into ugly, loud chickens, but he couldn’t help himself. He loved that they were all soft and small, with fluffy wings and adorable black eyes. He loved the way they waddled and they way they hopped awkwardly to him whenever he fed them in his family’s barn.
Warnings: Language, Chickens and teenagers full of hormones
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Thanks to everyone who has read. This is one of my favorite chapters and the longest one so far and I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I do. Comments and Concrit most definitely welcome.
Also, I'm posting this fic to my journal now, so I may post it here before I post in any communities so check here if you want to know when it will be updated. Now... on to the fic!
Mikey motioned with his hand for Frank to follow him as they exited the school. He hadn’t spoke a word to Frank since they had left the office. He walked ahead Frank, looking down and tapping out something on his Sidekick, ignoring him.
He lead Frank to a brown, rusting Pontiac Persianne from probably around 1986 with a New Jersey licence plate. Mikey yanked the door open to the drivers side and muttered: “Get in.”
Frank opened the door, thinking that maybe he was right about Mikey being a murderer.
The door lead out a very loud squeak, disrupting Frank’s thoughts. He looked down at the seat to find cigarette burns in the seat, crumbs from who-knows-what on the seat, and fast food wrappers and Coke bottles littering the floor. Frank didn’t really want to know what else could be lurking in there. He hesitated and wondered where the hell he was going to put his guitar, since the back of the car was crowded with suitcases and blankets.
“Well are you going to get in or what? I don’t think your mom would like if I drove all the way here and then back to your place without you actually being there,” came Mikey’s voice. He looked up at Frank, bored expression on his face, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, impatiently.
“My guitar?” Frank started-
“Throw it on top of that shit,” Mikey gestured to the back seat.
Frank just stood there.
Wanting to actually get going, Mikey leaned over to the passenger’s seat, grabbed Frank’s guitar and tossed it into the back seat.
Shocked at the harsh treatment of his guitar, Frank ducked his head and climbed into the car, brushing the litter off the seat. He felt around for the seat belt, only to find that the belt was stained with something sticky and was ripped. There was could no way it could be fastened. He awkwardly held the belt out and turned to Mikey, expecting him to do something about it.
Mikey paid him no attention. He was too busy fiddling with his iPod and then yanking out the earphones attached it. He inserted a wire which was attached to a tape and shoved it into the tape deck. “Couldn’t get a CD player in here. Too old,” Mikey muttered, thumbing the iPod until music filled the car.
It sounded familiar. Fast 4/4 time, solid punk beat, then the raw, hurried vocals. Frank knew this. He drummed his fingers on the dashboard, trying to stop the urge of singing along.
Mikey must have noticed Frank rocking out, he disrupted Frank’s head banging with: “You like the ‘Souls?”
Frank turned to Mikey, eyes bright and nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I mean, yeah! Bouncing Souls! I fucking love them! I want them to play at my wedding!” Frank grinned at Mikey like he was going to either attack him or do something stupid like go running through the streets naked. Either way, it was freaking Mikey out.
Mikey just raised an eyebrow and looked at Frank like he was the most insane person he ever met. “…Okay...” he answered, his voice slightly higher. “Um… so. We’ll uh, go back to your place, then.” He pulled the car into ‘Drive’, signalled and pulled the car away from the sidewalk unto the street.
“You know how to get to my place?” Frank asked, still bouncing in his seat. He was still acting fucking giddy. He was only this fucking giddy around the baby chicks, when he played his guitar or when he rocked out to the music he loved.
“Well, yeah… I kind of drove from your house to here…lots of fucking trees,” Mikey answered, turning the car unto Main Street, trailing a really slow car. It was probably one of those old ladies that drive too slow and shouldn’t even have the permit to drive.
Main Street was full of brick buildings, two restaurants, a few little boutiques, a doctor’s office, a pharmacy, and two grocery stores. It was rather dull. It ran for about two blocks until it hit a gas station and the rail road tracks. There was a surprising amount of cars parked on each side of Main Street. Well, it was Crop Hop tonight so maybe that was what brought the crowd in.
“It’s usually not this busy,” Frank commented, turning around, glancing out the back window.
“This is busy?” Mikey asked, shocked. “There’s only a few cars…” Mikey turned the car off Main Street and over the rail road tracks. He turned his head sharply to the left and then to the right to make sure there weren’t any trains coming. The coast seemed clear so he stepped on the gas.
“It’ll probably get busier tonight. Since it’s the Crop Hop and I’m playing-”
Mikey raised an eyebrow at him, “It’ll get busy because you’re playing?”
Frank’s eyes widened, “No, no, no. I was just saying that more people will be coming into town tonight. Me playing has nothing to do with bringing the people in, but it would be cool if it did. Because I am really fucking good, if I do say so myself.” He paused, regretted what he just said and looked down at his hand that was tugging at the rip in jeans. It was a nervous habit of his. Well, he was trying to befriend this guy. And Mikey had seemingly good taste in music, but Mikey just looked unimpressed by whatever Frank said. What was he doing wrong? Yeah, Frank was a newb at making friends.
Mikey just nodded, looked down at the iPod and selected another song.
The Smiths filled the air.
This wasn’t going that good… maybe Mikey thought Frank was some kind of country hick or something. Frank clicked his tongue nervously and looked out at the vast amount of pine trees that surrounded the road.
“You’d probably get along with my brother. He thinks he’s good at everything too,” Mikey said, chuckling, eyes still on the road.
“He’s here?”
“No,” Mikey answered shortly.
Well where the hell was he? Why wasn’t Mikey sharing the details? Frank glanced curiously at Mikey, expecting him to say something.
When Mikey finally realized Frank was staring at him a little weirdly, he asked, exasperated: “What?!”
Frank averted his eyes back to the rip in his jeans and quietly spoke: “I was, uh, just wondering where your brother is…”
“Oh. He had an interview for a job this morning. He’s a cartoonist. Well, no. He just graduated from art school last month. He’s pitching his idea for some cartoon today. He said if they want him, he’s not coming down here. And if they think his cartoon is shit, he’ll fly down.”
“Oh…” Frank nodded, thinking about what to say next. Nothing. So he settled with: “Do you think his cartoon is shit?”
Mikey just stared at road, not exactly the reaction Frank expected since he asked a dumb question. “Sort of,” Mikey paused and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’s about a monkey who talks in weird voices and is obsessed with breakfast,” he turned to Frank and grinned.
“Weird shit,” Frank smiled back.
“Yeah. I totally dig the shit he does with like, vampires and zombies and stuff… but that monkey was the most cracked out idea ever. Probably ‘cause he was with this fucking drug addict at the time.”
“Weird,” Frank answered, hoping Mikey would continue…it was better than silence.
“Yeah, I told him so many times to dump that guy’s ass. But that’s just Gerard. He doesn’t fucking think sometimes.”
“I never knew any drug addicts,” Frank answered, simply because he didn’t know how to respond to Mikey’s rant.
“Lucky. This guy that Gerard was dating, Bert… he like fucking begged Gerard for money for drugs and stuff. Well, when they got together it was all good because we thought Bert was a reasonable guy and wouldn’t do any heavier drugs. But when I found out he was going around whoring himself out to guys for money for drugs… that was just the end of it. So I told Gee about it and he said I was just trying to fuck up his life… but he found out in the end,” Mikey nodded. “Just picks the worst people to be in relationships with,” he paused to think about what he just said. “Well, no wait… He’s thinking of dating this pretty awesome chick now. I hope he does…”
Automatically thinking of his feathered friends, Frank spoke up: “Chick?” Shit, he didn’t mean to actually say that. No, a girl, you idiot, he thought. Frank mentally slapped himself on the forehead. “No, never mind.”
“Yeah. So what do you do around here for fun?” Mikey asked, gesturing to the forest that surrounded them.
Wow, that was a quick change of subject. “Uh, well, people go to like, bush parties and uh, parties in towns near by. And go to Hoo-ville and -”
“What the hell is ‘Hoo-ville’?” Mikey interrupted, turning the car unto another gravel road. Frank’s farm was only another ten miles away.
“Charlottesville. That’s what they call it.”
“Ah. So you go to parties and stuff you said?”
“No… the people in this town are fucking retarded preppy newbs and I wouldn’t be caught dead at their parties. And plus, this guy Carter…he pretty much wants to kill me. So I just stay at home and like, play guitar and read comics and watch movies…hang out with my chicks,” he muttered.
“Chicks? At least your friends with some girls. Are they hot?” Mikey asked, excitedly. “Will I get to meet them?”
Frank didn’t want to admit to Mikey that the “chicks” weren’t actual girls because he would seem like a newb or a complete loser. Frank bit at his lip, trying to decide what to say.
“Dude, will I meet them?” Mikey asked again.
“Uh…yeah, sure,” Frank answered, attempting to smile back at Mikey.
“Sweet! This place isn’t as shitty as I thought!” Mikey laughed, reaching over and playfully punching Frank’s arm.
Frank just tried to laugh and fake a smile.
*
When they got to the farm, Frank was immediately introduced to Mikey’s mom. She was having coffee at the table with Frank’s mother. She had long wavy blond hair, wore a flashy black t-shirt with sequins and had extremely long nails. She seemed nice enough though. She practically ran and Frank and exclaimed: “Linda! Look how much Frankie’s grown!” She lunged at Frank: “The last time I saw you was when you were a baby!” She hugged Frank tightly, as Frank awkwardly patted her back, freaked out.
“Mom, don’t choke the dude,” commented Mikey, with sympathy.
“It’s okay,” Frank lied, as Donna continued to squeeze him.
When she pulled away and murmured, “Frankie, your hair! I’m surprised your mother here let you do it. It’s so…colourful. ” She turned to throw Frank’s mom a smile.
“I didn’t even know he did that!” Linda Iero answered, gesturing for Mikey to take a seat.
“Mom, his hair’s not colourful,” Mikey said to Donna while pulling out a chair from under the table. “It’s like, only blond and black. Since when is that colourful?”
Donna just rolled her eyes at Mikey.
As Mikey sat down at the kitchen table he raised his eyebrows at whatever was placed in front of him and picked up a sheet of something that was on the table. “What the hell are these?” he questioned.
Frank didn’t know what Mikey was talking about since he was too busy getting some juice out of the fridge. He opened the cupboard, took a cup, and turned around to see what Mikey was talking about.
“Oh, Mikey. It’s just your high school graduation picture from last year. The Iero’s need pictures of you and Gerard, they’re practically family,” commented Donna, taking the picture of Mikey from Mikey’s hand and passing it to Linda.
Frank managed to sneak a glance at the other picture, which Mikey was now holding. It was a portrait of a guy with shoulder length black hair, curling up to his jaw. He had stunning hazel eyes and incredibly pale skin, porcelain. But, God, the way looked in that picture, there was definitely something sexual about it… making Frank feel like he was looking at one of his porn magazines.
Frank gulped, eyes wandering to the guy’s lips. Pink lips softly parted and the expression in his eyes, seductive, knowing, but yet, somewhat innocent. Frank didn’t know. The guy was leaning against a brick wall in a black coat, arms crossed. There was something about the way he just stood there against the wall, like it was the only thing holding him up... and looked at whoever took the photo that made Frank blush.
“Ew! Gee looks like a whore in this picture,” Mikey said throwing it down on the table.
“Mikey don’t say that about your brother!” Donna lectured, taking a sip of her coffee.
“But he does! I think Bert took that picture… Yuck, I don’t wanna know what they did after that-”
“Mikey!” Donna exclaimed, taking the picture away from him. “I couldn’t find another picture of him around the house, so we’re giving them this one,” she shook her head at Mikey in disappointment. “Here, Linda. That’s Gerard,” she said, passing the picture to Linda.
“Frank, just look at it! Tell my delusional mother that Gee does in fact look like a whore!” Mikey said, motioning to Frank to look at the picture.
“He looks quite handsome,” Frank’s mom said, handing the picture to Frank.
With that, Frank immediately stopped listening to whatever the hell Mikey, Donna and his mom were talking about, placed his cup down on the counter and gazed down at the photograph finally in his own hands. He knew his mom was right, this guy was hot - beautiful, even - but Frank just knew that he’d be too fucking scared to even talk to this guy in person. Frank knew that this guy probably deserved someone really, really attractive and hell, he probably was with really, really attractive people all the time and most definitely wouldn’t want to have anything with a country hick.
Frank brought the picture closer to his face, eyes falling back down to the guys lips again. By the way they were parted, it looked like he was begging for someone to kiss him. Frank bet that the guy’s lips were probably really soft and he wondered what it would be like… to kiss the guy. Frank bet that the way the guy kissed would be full of passion and teeth and tongue and aggression and then after that, soft and slow. He could just imagine it, he tried not to bring his hand up to touch his own lips.
He ran his finger over the photograph, over where the guy’s body would be. He was sort of on the chubby side, but it suited him. Frank liked it and if he would touch, oh, fuck, what Frank would to do him, touching all of the pale skin, fingers in his dark mane, swollen lips on his… Frank immediately felt his dick twitch with excitement and glanced up to see if anyone was noticing him.
The coast was clear. Mikey was telling Frank’s mom about some band he was thinking of joining or something, while Donna argued with Mikey, insisting that he should stay in college.
Frustrated, Frank tossed the picture down on the counter and picked up his cup, took a sip of the juice. He swallowed the juice down his dry throat, and suddenly realized he had to feed the chicks. And he sort of wanted to tell them how hot he thought that guy was… well he had nobody else to tell and it was definitely getting too hot in there and he had to talk himself down.
“Uh, excuse me, but I’m going to go feed the chicks now,” Frank said, quickly running for the door so nobody would question him.
Frank opened the gate and scattered the feed, as the baby chicks scurried and pecked at the ground. He ranted about what an ass Carter was and how much he wanted that guy, Gerard…in the photograph. He stoked their soft down and stayed with them until he heard his mom call him in to spend time with Mikey, quit ignoring their guest.
Frank lead Mikey to his room and Mikey commented on how cool he thought it was that Frank had all of the ‘Jaws’ movies. Frank showed Mikey his CD collection and Mikey seemed pretty enthusiastic about it, commenting on certain albums and which songs were the key tracks. They seemed to able to talk about anything related to music and Frank finally thought he had found an actual friend.
Frank learned that Mikey played bass and they seemed to have a good conversation going about a band that Mikey wanted to join, when Linda poked her head into Frank’s room telling them that is was already six o’clock and it was time to go to town for the Crop Hop Supper held at the town hall.
Frank grabbed his electric guitar, shoved it into it’s case and headed out to get his acoustic from the Way’s car. He placed both guitars on the back of the his dad’s truck and he and Mikey climbed in, waiting for their mothers.
“Uh, Frankie?” Mikey asked, uncertainly, stuffing his SideKick back into the pocket of his hoody.
“What?”
“What’s with your dad… uh, if you don’t mind me asking. I was just wondering where he uh, is and you haven’t talked about him or anything,” Mikey tried not to make eye contact with Frank. Well, that was true.
“Uh, to be honest, my dad and I don’t have a really good relationship, but for the last few days, he’s been going to like, these auction sales with my grandpa trying to sell our cattle. So I guess that’s why you didn’t get to meet him,” Frank shrugged.
“Oh okay,” Mikey nodded, a little relieved.. “Oh yeah! And Gerard just messaged me. He said he flew down because they didn’t like his pitch for the cartoon. Said he rented a car and he’s at the Crop Hop thing already.”
“He’s coming uh… here?” Frank swallowed, trying not to blush, trying not to hyperventilate, trying not to do, well, anything. Well come on, he had a thing for a dude he saw in a picture! And now, he was actually going to see him in person!
“Yeah, he is,” Mikey answered, while their mothers climbed into the car.
Frank felt like he was going to pass out, as the truck’s engine came to live, moving along the road, closer to the Crop Hop, the town and Gerard.
next chapter