Give Me Something to Believe In [one-shot]
Title: Give Me Something To Believe In
Author: assume ---> Samantha
Pairing: Gerard/Mikey [implied Gerard/Ray & Gerard/Frank]
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third.
Summary: "You’re the one who wants me, in more than one way. Just admit that I’m the best person ever and get it over with." He gently runs his hand over Mikey’s stomach, that is still clenching up at the slightest touch, and continues his verbal abuse. Or more like verbal ego-crushing. "If you could, you’d so have my babies."
Disclaimer: I do not own My Chemical Romance, nor do I have connections with the band.
Author Notes: To bertaids, since everything I do is for her; and a huge thank you to simeonrun for beta-ing.
- Sorry for what I do at the end...
- Title credit: Makes Me Wonder - Maroon 5



Pacing back and forth, back and forth, looking both ways for his brother, Mikey is feeling the heat work its way up his body from what he knows he’s going to tell his brother. It’s finally time, he’s decided. It’s not as if he has anything to lose - well, except maybe the love his brother has for him, and maybe his respect. Possibly respect from everyone close to him and around him, but that’s not on Mikey’s mind right now. Oh no, no, no. Not in the slightest.

These feelings have been going on for quite a while now, which he always ignored when they came up. He can’t quite think right at the moment. It’s as if he’s playing Jim Carrey in ‘Bruce Almighty,’ only instead of prayers, it’s thoughts and worries coming at him a million miles a minute - his own thoughts and worries, that is.

Mikey always worries. He worries about everything: what is he making for dinner, where does he have to go today (hell, where does he have to go a week from now), who does he need to meet up with, call back, tell happy birthday to; fucking everything. Mikey doesn’t mean to be that way, really. It’s just that if he doesn’t worry, he forgets things. Mikey’s a forgetful person. If he didn’t constantly tie his shoes when he was younger and learning the process of it, he probably would’ve forgotten how to.

Gerard is the complete opposite. He wouldn’t give two shits if he forgot to call his cousin’s, wife’s, sister’s, best friend’s, uncle twice removed to make sure he didn’t miss his birthday. Gerard is carefree, for the most part. He likes to live life as it goes, because he thinks life is too short to waste on the stupid things in life - such as, oh, worrying. He’s tried rubbing off on Mikey, but to no avail. Mikey’s stubborn, which Gerard is also. Hey, there’s something similar that the Way brothers have in common.

Now, added to the pacing, Mikey’s chewing on his nails. When he gets nervous, or thinks too much, he does these terrible things (habits, if you will), such as: biting his nails, pacing, shaking his leg, tapping his foot, blinking repeatedly [which has nothing to do with his eyesight], and a lot of the time clenching his hand repeatedly in his shirt or jacket. Makes him look like he has a nervous twitch constantly.

If Mikey hadn’t had this revelation, he would’ve probably been on the bus and fucking around on his Sidekick. But alas, instead he’s here, practically shitting himself over something that has a 50/50 chance of going well or going completely to hell. He’s regretting this choice right now. Regretting it more than getting rid of his glasses and deciding to actually make facial expressions during shows - or hell, even moving around while playing.

"Come on…" Mikey mumbles to himself, looking up and down the hallway for the fifth time in the past one minute. That’s a feat in itself, even for Mikey. He’s so obsessive. He knows that even if he keeps looking for Gerard it’s not as if it’ll make him come any quicker. Gerard takes his good old sweet time to get to wherever he goes - he calls it being ‘fashionably late,’ while Mikey calls it ‘annoying and rude.’ Mikey has a thing with being on time and making sure things are done right. Is he OCD?

It’s also not as if any of the other band members are going to just show up. They all went onto the bus to do this, that, or the other thing. Frank is probably snoozing away in his bunk, Ray is probably reading his porn (it ‘isn’t his,’ which everyone knows is a big lie. Ray needs his porn like he needs his hands), and Bob is probably fucking around with the TV. And Gerard? Oh, he’s nowhere to be seen, of course! And here’s little Mikey, freaking out over the fact that Gerard is just not there. Mikey needs Gerard here. Now.

Looking at his watch again, for the third time in the past minute or so, he notices Gerard’s five minutes late. Wait, why am I freaking out about five minutes? That’s nothing, Mikey scowls at himself in his mind. This is useless. He obviously doesn’t want to hear about my ‘big news that can’t wait,’ so why do I bother?

Just as Mikey was about to give up and make his way out of the dressing room, his hand on the door handle, Gerard storms in. In a big entrance type way, of course. Gerard does everything big. But when he was pushing the door open, it flew back and hit Mikey in the face. He stumbles back, falling onto the floor with a ‘thud.’

"Oops. You okay, Mikey?" Gerard asks, leaning down to help his brother up. He pulls him up easily, since Mikey is not that big to begin with. Mikey nods his head, flipping his hair out of his face. "Now, what is this big news? Is it that you’ve realized you really miss your glasses and regret getting eye surgery to cure your blindness? I bet it is. Don’t worry, we’ll call Dr. Roberts in a--"

"No, Gerard! It isn’t that," Mikey cuts Gerard’s rambling off. Gerard shrugs his shoulders in a ‘can’t say I didn’t try’ way before going to lean against the table. He eyes Mikey up and down, raising an eyebrow at the way his brother is fidgeting more than he normally does. "It isn’t that."

"Is it so that you can--"

"Gerard, shut up!" Mikey shouts. Gerard raises his eyebrows higher before nodding his head and sarcastically taking his fingers and acting as if he were doing a zipper up on his mouth. "It’s… Okay. It’s nothing ‘big,’ like I had said. No, wait, it is. I know it is. Because it’s not exactly everyday that I come up with shit like this…"

"You are not coming up with our next concept album! You know that’s my job," Gerard says, standing up and walking in front of Mikey, sizing him up.

"Why the fuck would I want to come up with a concept album? Last time I checked, I didn’t like the whole ‘Black Parade’ shit you came up with. I was fine with being just plain old My Chemical Romance, but you just had to change things up. I hate when you do that. So, no, it isn’t that." Mikey’s chest is pressed against Gerard’s, coming together each breath they take in.

"I like my ideas, thank you ever so fucking much." Gerard rolls his eyes. "Come on and get through with your news. I actually have a bunk, an oh-so comfy bunk, calling my name. And probably Ray, too. I know he can’t work that fucking sky--"

"Gerard!" Mikey shouts, putting his hands up to his ears. "I do not want to hear that." He takes a deep breath and brings his hands back down by his side. It’s now or never, to be honest. "Okay. What I wanted to tell you is that I love you in more than a brotherly way, and I know I shouldn’t, but you’re so… God," he pauses, thinking over his words. "No, you aren’t God. You know what I mean, though."

"That’s…" Gerard says after a couple minutes of silence in which Mikey got back to pacing and doing his bad habits. He may have even finished a cigarette in record time - and he doesn’t smoke much, if at all. "That’s really… fucked up."

Of course Gerard feels that way! This is me. The younger Way; the undesirable one. The one that does nothing but sits there and is awkward. I knew this would go bad. Great… Just fucking great. Mikey curses himself over and over again, basically mentally beating the shit out of his mind and decisions. Note to self: Never fucking leave yourself to your own thoughts!

"I know it is… I know. But fuck if I haven’t thought this over. I thought of fucking everything, Gerard. What I could lose, who would start hating me, who would lose respect for me, what our parents would think, what would happen to our relationship? - brotherly, I mean," Mikey pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I guess I never wanted to think of you saying that, though."

"Aw, baby brother of mine," Gerard says softly, almost too softly. He grabs Mikey’s head and puts it against his chest, running his fingers lightly through his hair. "Poor, poor baby," he then coos. "Not to worry, though! I can make everything better."

Mikey’s face is contorted in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. Gerard’s still mumbling ‘shh’ to him, rocking their bodies back and forth. In a way, this scares Mikey. Gerard should be shoving him against the wall and beating the shit out of him - or maybe beating the feelings out of him. But Gerard continues to rock them, every now and then kissing his forehead. Mikey pulls away and looks into his brother’s hazel eyes.

"Does this mean you have the same feelings for me?" Mikey asks, a hint of hope in his voice. Hope for the best, to be perfectly honest.

"Are you kidding?" Gerard laughs, shaking his head. Mikey’s face falls, not feeling as hopeful as before. "Of course I don’t!" He lets out a little more laughter, wiping at his eyes as if he was crying from laughing oh-so hard. "I’m not that fucked in the head. I’ll just fulfill your fucked up fantasies and let you experience all that is the amazingness of the one and only Gerard mother fucking Way!"

"Wait, what?" Mikey asks, pulling away completely. Gerard just giggles, shakes his head, and presses his lips against Mikey’s. His eyes open wide as Gerard’s slip closed, the complete opposite. Gerard shoves him against the wall, running his tongue softly across his closed lips, prying them apart when Mikey shows resistance. Mikey lets out a shocked squeal, crushing his eyes closed now.

"Still want my sexy body?" Gerard asks, his forehead pressed against Mikey’s. Mikey nods slowly, puckering his lips to Gerard, who meets his lips again. They continue their battle, Gerard pressing harder up against Mikey’s small body. "I knew you couldn’t resist me," he pauses, giggling at his own thoughts before speaking them. "Actually, no one could."

Mikey just shrugs and pulls Gerard’s head back to his, resuming their kiss. This is where more worry sets in - what if he isn’t up to par for Gerard? What if he sucks (and not in the good way)? What if Gerard doesn’t get anything from fucking his brother, like Mikey will, he’s sure. Gerard’s a picky guy; he can’t stand decaf coffee, it needs to be regular; he can’t stand when his food is touching, although people always tell him it’s going in the same place, so why should it matter? He can’t stand cigarettes that are not menthol. He’s just an all around picky person. And Mikey’s worried he won’t meet his brother’s expectations. Wait, does Gerard have expectations for this?

"Mmm…" Mikey mumbles as Gerard stops kissing him and goes onto nip at his jaw line and neck. His hand flies to the back of Gerard’s head, threading his fingers through his black hair; he loves his black hair, and it’s so fucking soft. "Mmm… God."

"You’ll be thinking I’m God when I’m done with you, to be honest." Gerard grins. Mikey smiles, despite the way his stomach clenches and a sweat breaks out over his forehead slightly. "I bet you haven’t even thought this over. You’re so forgetful!"

"I… Uh… No, not really," Mikey says, looking around the dressing room. "Besides, why would I plan for this?" He motions to their position as of now; Gerard pressing hard against Mikey. "I just wanted to tell you my feelings." He closes his eyes again, taking a deep breath. "I know you don’t want this…"

"Mikey, shut the fuck up." Gerard rolls his eyes, reaching a hand into his back pocket and bringing out his wallet. Mikey hates that Gerard’s wallet is so clearly in view, and could be stolen so quickly. ‘Easy access,’ is what Gerard told him one time when he told him he should just carry money around, which, really, is no better. "Here we are." Gerard pulls out a condom, tossing his wallet onto the table. "Ray made me bring this with me just in case. As if I ever use protection," he scoffs the last part.

"Wait… What?" Mikey asks, pulling back. Gerard looks up at him, raising his eyebrows. "I… don’t get it?"

"Okay, here’s how it goes," Gerard says, sitting the condom down on the table to the side. "Guys can’t get pregnant, right?" Mikey nods. "But they can contract diseases. And I do not want to get any of that shit. Although I’m sure that nobody I’ve slept with has them… I’m careful. Most of the time…"

"So you were being sarcastic?" Mikey asks. Gerard nods his head, giving a roll of his eyes. "But why are you using it with me?"

"Using what with you?" Gerard asks. Mikey eyes the condom up and down, keeping his face low. Gerard ignores the question, making it as if he heard something completely different. "Oh, that. Of course I am!"

"Why? I don’t have anything," Mikey mumbles. Gerard shrugs and gets back to kissing Mikey’s neck. That conversation made no sense… "Gerard, wait. I know you don’t want this."

"How many times do I have to tell you to just shut up?" Gerard asks. He takes his hands and puts them at the hem of Mikey’s shirt, pulling it roughly over his head. Gerard doesn’t say anything; he just eyes his body up and down. Honestly, what do you say to your brother, of all people, standing in front of you without a shirt on, and not in the sense that he just woke up or is going to take a shower? ‘Wow, you’re really beautiful and fucking you would be completely fine and people would not judge us!’? Highly doubtful.

"Well?" Mikey asks, fidgeting slightly.

"Well what?" Gerard asks.

"What do you think?" Mikey has another hint of hopefulness in his voice. Too bad Gerard’s going to crush it like a bug underneath his shoe.

"You’re Mikey. The same as you always were, and always will be. End of it." Gerard shrugs. Mikey frowns and pushes Gerard back lightly, letting his eyes fall down to his clasped together hands. "Did you expect me to compliment you? I can’t do that, dear. Terribly sorry," he pauses for dramatic effect, the minute or few seconds of silence killing Mikey. "Besides, it’s not like you have any of the good Way looks. We all know I got them."

"This is useless!" Mikey shouts, taking his shirt out of Gerard’s hands and trying to pull it over his head while still ranting on about nothing - well, nothing that Gerard cares about. "I think that I can tell you something, because you always told me you were here for me, but you go and be an asshole about it!" He gets his arms into the shirt, but it’s still not quite on. "And then, when I’m basically throwing myself on the line, by letting you take advantage of me - because that’s what it is - you can’t do anything but fucking make jokes!"

"Who says they were jokes?" Gerard asks in all honesty. Mikey growls and finishes putting his shirt on, moving out from underneath Gerard. "I just took that shirt off, and you go and put it back on! Why do I ever even bother?" Gerard asks, following Mikey to wherever he’s walking to, which is just around the room to blow off steam. "Come on! Put yourself in my shoes."

"I don’t need to! I think I’m under a lot more pressure than you are, Gerard. Fuck, I just told you I love you as more than just a brother. It’s not like I told you I didn’t like your sad excuse for style!" Mikey throws his arms into the air. "Stop being so inconsiderate!"

"I am doing no such thing!" Gerard says in mock horror. "Get back over here, please." Gerard pouts to his brother, pulling him into his arms. "It’s not like you’ll find anyone else to get you laid. I’m here and willing." He runs his hands up and down Mikey’s long, thin arms, making goosebumps rise to the top of his skin. "You know you’d never, regardless of my lack in feelings, get anyone better than me."

"Stop being so full of yourself," Mikey says bitterly. "You’re no prize."

"I beg to differ," Gerard whispers into Mikey’s ear, his lips grazing it ever so slightly. "You’re the one who wants me, in more than one way. Just admit that I’m the best person ever and get it over with." He gently runs his hand over Mikey’s stomach, that is still clenching up at the slightest touch, and continues his verbal abuse. Or more like verbal ego-crushing. "If you could, you’d so have my babies."

"And luckily, I can’t," Mikey says in a bored tone of voice. "Wouldn’t want more assholes roaming the world with the ever-famous Gerard Way as their father."

"Oh, ouch, Mikey. That hurts." Gerard clutches his heart with a free hand, putting on a sad face. "You make me hurt inside, obviously. Please, save me from myself!" He throws his hands in the air, falling down onto his knees. "I bet you like it when I’m down here."

Mikey can’t help but get a little hard at the thought of Gerard being so close to his lower regions - his mouth mere inches away. Gerard starts to tantalizingly slowly run his hands up and down Mikey’s jean clad thighs, not getting close enough to where Mikey yearns for him to touch. He places small kisses onto his clothed erection, just wanting to tease Mikey enough for him to beg for it. Gerard loves when people beg him for things. It gives him a sense of power. Gerard’s a control freak.

Mikey moves his hips in a circular motion, his crotch rubbing against Gerard’s face and mouth. Gerard slowly snakes his finger up to Mikey’s zipper on his jeans, pulling it down way too slow. Mikey brings his hand down to pull it down for him, and then unbuttons his own jeans for Gerard. Gerard smirks, raising his eyebrows and pulling the jeans down from around his hips.

"Someone’s eager," he teases, slowly pulling down his boxers. Mikey takes in a sharp intake of breath when the material goes over his erection, it springing forth from its confines. "Hmm… I think I hear someone calling for me."

"No, that’s your imagination," Mikey says, bucking his hips to get his point across. Gerard grins and licks the slit of Mikey’s dick with the tip of his tongue, sending shockwaves throughout his younger brother’s body. He takes the head of his erection into his mouth, sucking on that alone. He sucks on it hard, making Mikey shudder at the feelings bursting throughout his body. "Holy fuck…"

Gerard takes Mikey further into his mouth, sucking on it lightly now. He wants to tease him - to make Mikey feel hopeless. Because really, if Gerard doesn’t do anything, Mikey is hopeless. And he’s hopelessly in love with Gerard, too. That’s… Not too good, though. Gerard scowls and takes his mouth from his brother’s cock and stands back up.

"You were having too much fun. This is mostly for my benefit, by the way," he pauses and flicks his hair out of his face, that was more so for the effect. "Besides, it’s not like you don’t have your hands."

"You’re such an asshole," Mikey grumbles. Gerard nods his head and bites roughly on Mikey’s neck, making him cry out. "Fuck! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I do whatever I please, thank you," Gerard says, his mouth still against Mikey’s skin, making the words come out slightly muffled. Mikey relaxes against the table that he and Gerard are in front of now, letting Gerard get on top of him.

"You’re too skinny…"

"How am I too skinny?" Mikey asks, moving his hips in a circular motion again as Gerard rubs his fingers on Mikey’s side.

"Because you’re too fucking bony! It hurts, actually," Gerard growls, trying to get comfortable. Mikey sees this as an opportunity to say something that could hurt his feelings; make him feel like shit.

"No, you’re just too fat," he retorts, grinning on the inside. Gerard gasps and looks into Mikey’s eyes hatefully, shaking his head and scolding him. "What? I’m only being truthful."

"Ah, ah, ah." Gerard shakes his head. "Now is not the time to try and be brave." He places a small kiss onto the smooth neck right below his mouth, talking while his lips brush against the skin. "You know you like it when I’m dominant. When I make you squirm."

"You don’t make me squirm, Gerard," Mikey says, rolling his eyes. Gerard nods his head, keeping his thoughts to himself. That’s a first. "You’re starting to hurt me, Gee."

"Welcome to my world, baby brother." Gerard grins. He bites down hard on Mikey’s neck, making him shout slightly. Gerard just shakes his head, thinking of how his brother is completely opposite from him. He makes his way down Mikey’s body again, stopping at his hip bones. He smirks at them before he pokes them roughly. "Ha, you do squirm!"

"You just poked me! What did you think I would do, giggle like Elmo?" Mikey asks in all seriousness. Gerard shrugs and goes back up Mikey’s body and kissing him with way too much force; Mikey likes slow, sensual kisses. "What the fuck? Slow down, Gee. We’re not trying to win a race."

"No, I’m just trying to get this over with. Jesus, you’re such a fucking girl," Gerard growls and bites his cheek. "And we’re doing this my way, so don’t complain. Not like I’d care if you did."

"Gerard, just don’t fucking do this if you don’t want to! I honestly didn’t expect anything to come out of it. That’s like me expecting you to, oh I don’t know, maybe keeping your hair one color! It just won’t happen. Now, don’t bother." Mikey tries to push Gerard off, but he stays firmly put. In all fairness, Gerard is much bigger than Mikey. "You’re so stubborn."

"I know. That’s yet another thing you love about me! We should make a list, yes?" Gerard asks and Mikey shakes his head. "Okay, fine. Anyways, we’re talking way too much. If we don’t do this now, I’ll go find Ray. I know he won’t have a problem sticking that monster of a--"

"Gerard!" Mikey screams, bringing his hands up to his ears again, clenching his eyes shut. "You’re so inappropriate! Jesus."

"Gerard adds that to his mental list, obviously," Gerard says, speaking in third person. "Gerard also says to take your shirt off and undress me. Clothes are getting in the way of everything that could be happening right now, but because they’re being douche bags and won’t fuck off."

"Mikey says for Gerard to stop talking in third person, it annoys him greatly." Mikey rolls his eyes. He then puts his hands on the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head yet again, just like Gerard had done earlier. Once the humid air around them hits his chest, a slight sweat breaks out across his skin. Mikey hates the heat. And he hates that Gerard’s rubbing himself up against his leg like a horny puppy. "That’s unattractive."

"You’re going to slow with this. I need to get laid!" Gerard giggles. It’s almost as if he’s drunk, although he hasn’t had a drink in over two years. He pulls his shirt away from his body as well, tossing it to the floor. He then starts to take off his jeans, pushing them down to his ankles and slips off his shoes then his pants. Mikey’s pants are long forgotten, and not very relevant to either brother. If Gerard could, he’d walk around naked 24/7.

Gerard sticks two fingers into Mikey’s mouth, instructing him to suck. He does as he’s told, sucking on them hard. He tries to look seductive while doing it, but Gerard tells him that there’s no way in hell that anybody can be sexy while sucking on fingers. ‘Like a fucking baby,’ he said. Mikey pouts slightly, but continues to get Gerard’s fingers nice and wet, although he bit them quite hard a few times.

"An eye for an eye, bitch," Mikey says, taking the fingers out of his mouth slightly.

Gerard shoves them back in, scoffing a little and rubbing his hand over himself. Over his chest, stomach, thighs, and then erection. He rubs it while watching Mikey rub his own thigh, softly running the tip of his tongue against Gerard’s finger.

Gerard removes his fingers and runs them down Mikey’s chin, chest, stomach, hips, and right across his erection. He stops at Mikey’s entrance, looking at him for a second before pushing in at a reasonable pace. It’s not hard enough to hurt Mikey [anymore than is needed], and not enough to be too slow. Gerard’s an ass, but he isn’t one for physically hurting Mikey. He’s still family, regardless.

"Fuck…" Mikey whimpers, but Gerard covers his mouth with his own. He coos to him that he’ll be okay, and that it gets better. Gerard isn’t particularly liking being slow like this; he’s used to Ray. Ray goes fast and knows how Gerard likes it. But right now, Gerard’s the one doing the fucking. The one who’s having to show compassion because Mikey still seems so… inexperienced. "Okay, Gee. I think… I think I’m okay."

"You sure? I know how it feels to have it be your first time…" Gerard mumbles, hitting Mikey’s prostate and making him shout in pleasure. Gerard continues to rub against it while still talking to Mikey, who’s talking through whimpers.

"It isn’t… my first… time. Oh fuck." Mikey clenches himself around Gerard, pulling his fingers in further. Gerard nods his head and pulls out slowly, putting his dick right where he’s about to enter when his fingers are all the way out. Before he gets to even touch his brother's entrance with the tip of his dick, he looks over to the condom. Getting it quickly, he bites it open and slides it on, moaning at the contact he's giving himself. Once that's on, he pushes in slowly, just as slowly as before, and Mikey moans at the sensual feeling. Too bad Gerard’s going to change his ways before Mikey would have liked him to.

Gerard pushes in harder once hearing the moan, thinking it means Mikey wants him to go faster, which he doesn’t. Mikey lets out a little scream, gripping Gerard’s shoulders hard and squeezing them with all of the power he has in his smaller-than-Gerard’s body.

Gerard pushes in, all the way to the base. Mikey shudders and brings his brother’s body down to his, holding onto it for dear life. I swear, if I make it through this, I will never have sex again… He pauses in his thoughts, thinking over them. If not to get them straight, but to take his mind off of the physical agony his brother is putting him through right now - what, with him slamming into Mikey’s smaller body like he is? Okay, maybe not… I’m not completely sure yet.

"Ger-Gerard, go slower…" Mikey mumbles. Gerard sighs, but does as he’s told. He slows down to the point where Mikey isn’t feeling anything, which is not what he wanted. After a few minutes of sitting there, Gerard’s slow thrusting boring him, Mikey pushes at his shoulder. "I didn’t mean that slow!"

"Make up your mind! Jeez, I can never please you, can I?" He quickens his thrusts now, hitting Mikey’s prostate and making him squeal in delight. "Maybe I should leave you to your own devices." Mikey shakes his head, breathing raggedly and clenching his eyes shut hard. "Tell me what you want."

"I… I want…" Mikey groans, arching his back into the perfect form of a half-crescent shape. "Mmm…" Gerard hits his spot again, making Mikey’s body spasm and rock in pleasure. "Fuck. I want you. You, Gerard."

Gerard nods his head and pushes in with more force, more concentration. Like he said, this is mostly for his benefit. He wants to get off more than he wants Mikey to feel good; just because he told Mikey to tell him what he wants, does not mean he wants to follow through with his demands. Gerard’s a teasing bastard who does not listen to anyone. It’s hard to keep him under control when he’s all over the place, constantly, not caring about what anyone thinks or says.

Mikey grabs onto Gerard’s shoulder again, bringing his chest to his and biting roughly on his bare shoulder. Gerard breathes in deeply through his nose, out through clenched teeth. Mikey’s hips have started moving in time with Gerard’s, heightening his and his brother’s pleasure tenfold. Gerard’s hands are holding onto Mikey’s hips painfully, digging his nails in. Mikey doesn’t even notice this as he brings his hand up to his neck and rubs it. He has no idea why.

"God…" Mikey mumbles, pushing his hips down especially hard one time. Gerard’s body spasms, much like Mikey’s had moments before, and his thrusts get off-pace. When Mikey’s pushing back, so is Gerard. That is not how it’s supposed to go. Gerard lets out a frustrated growl and pulls out. "What the fuck!"

"Bend over. This isn’t working." Gerard grabs Mikey, pulling him off of the table and bending him over. He runs his fingertips over Mikey’s spine, sending cold chills coursing through his body. He pushes in just as he gets to Mikey’s tailbone, earning a little wail.

"There we go."

They keep this pace going - Gerard pushing Mikey forward with his hips, Mikey pushing back on Gerard when he goes backwards. Not only did Gerard not really want to see Mikey’s face, as a reminder of the ‘sin’ he’s committing, but it really was hard to do. Really, in all actuality, since when did Gerard fucking Way give a shit about sins? He sins everyday, when he has homosexual sex with anyone he deems worthy enough (mostly Ray, occasionally Frank).

Gerard would not have, in a million long fucking years, thought that he’d end up fucking his brother in a dressing room. It’s not so much that he regrets it, because he doesn’t regret it, per se. He may be a heartless prick, but he would not call his sexual encounter with Mikey a regret. Would he?

"Gee, harder," Mikey moans out, it coming out as a sort of squeak - like he has yet to hit puberty. Gerard does as he’s told (even if just to prove to himself that this is not a regret) and pushes his hips rougher. Mikey’s moaning like a two-cent whore now; a mix of profanities, Gerard’s name, and incoherent words not even Gerard would slur on his worse night of drinking and drugs. He’s had many of those, actually.

"Fuck…" Gerard groans. He throws his head back, snaking his hand around to reach Mikey’s long forgotten erection. But then this weird thought pops into Gerard’s head: his and his brother’s moans sound alike. That scares Gerard beyond all belief, and he moves his hand out of the way and quickly thrusts in faster. He needs to get this over and done with. He will not be near his brother this intimately again, ever. He shouldn’t have pushed Mikey like he did - Mikey knew he didn’t want it. But of course, Gerard didn’t listen. He knew Mikey wanted it, that’s why he did it in the first place.

When he finally feels himself getting closer, he pulls out and starts to frantically jerk himself off. There’s a whimper of protest from Mikey, but Gerard tunes it out. He continues to do this hand motion, until he’s sputtering out nothing that makes sense, all over Mikey’s back and bottom. Mikey’s thoughts cease to exist, only letting the sound of Gerard’s skin on Gerard’s skin fill his ears. He knows what’s happening next. And he should’ve known from the get go.

Gerard grabs the first piece of cloth he sees, which happens to be Mikey’s shirt, and wipes himself off. He doesn’t give Mikey a second glance as he stands up on shaky legs, wooziness washing throughout his entire system. Mikey’s in a complete state of shock; shock that he even let that happen, shock that Gerard’s leaving him like he is, and shock that he even cares that Gerard’s leaving.

"This is wrong… this was wrong…" Gerard’s mumbling to himself, moving around the room to gather his clothing. He knows that the rest of the band will be wondering where they’ve been. They can never take ‘busy’ as an answer. It’s always the third degree - ‘where were you,’ ‘who were you with,’ ‘what were you doing,’ Gerard would be surprised if ‘what were you wearing’ would have been next. "Nothing," Gerard answers himself aloud. Mikey doesn’t even question what he means by that. It’s not worth it anymore.

Gerard finishes getting dressed and quickly runs to the door and slightly, ever so slightly, looks back to Mikey. He’s laid himself down on the floor while Gerard was jumping and hopping around to get into his too-tight clothing. He sighs and turns back to the wall across from the doorway. He shuts the door and steps back in, walking over to Mikey. He looks up briefly, diverting his eyes away when he meets Gerard’s hazel ones.

"Get dressed. You know that they’ll be looking for us," Gerard says in a monotone. He can’t even attempt to try and sound cheerful - if even the slightest form of humor were to crawl through his system, he’d definitely throw himself in front of a convoy of Mack trucks. "Plus, you look pathetic."

"You’re the one who left me like this," Mikey mumbles. His voice holds nothing in it. No love, compassion, or even no ounce of showing that he cares. Cares about what, probably the fact that Gerard just up and left him after finishing off. Could he have been anymore of an insensitive asshole? "Besides, I don’t have a shirt to wear."

"That sounds like a personal problem, to be quite honest. Did I ever tell you to leave your shit on the floor?" Gerard asks, picking Mikey up by the top of his arms. "No, I didn’t. Now come the fuck on."

Mikey slowly starts to move to get dressed, making sure his movements are all careless and show how hurt he is. First he starts with his boxers, slipping them up and over his hips; he didn’t even remember taking them off. Actually, he doesn’t remember any of that. He’d rather just forget about everything that happened today. That happened within himself - those feelings. Those feelings he couldn’t just fucking ignore until tour was over. Because when it was over, he could’ve gone back to his everyday, boring lifestyle. His lifestyle where Gerard didn’t live within five feet of him. When Gerard was practically, or so it seemed, in another country.

His jeans are over his hips by this point, Gerard watching him all the while. It’s as if he’s fucking babysitting Mikey. Like he won’t get dressed unless someone watches him and makes sure he actually does it without any complications. Mikey wishes Gerard would just go away and leave him alone. He wishes Gerard would just disappear. A little disappearing would do the world some good at this point, Mikey could bet on it.

"You’re going too slow." Gerard strides over to the middle of the room where Mikey’s standing and trying to put his shirt on. But Gerard’s already drying come is making the shirt stick together and that sure as hell isn’t something Mikey wants to be seen with on his body. Gerard takes the shirt from his hands and turns it inside out. Mikey grimaces as Gerard roughly slips it over his head and onto his chest.

"I definitely love the feel of your come on my skin, Gee. Thank you," Mikey says sarcastically, with a roll of his eyes. Gerard glares at him and throws him his shoes from the other end of the room. Next is his belt, which just barely misses Mikey’s frail form. He picks it up with a scowl, threading it through the belt loops. "You know, you really need anger management. One minute, you’re all over me. The next, you’re shooting your load on my back!"

"Mikey, just shut the fuck up! Stop talking about it. I don’t want to hear it," Gerard growls and leaves the room. Mikey’s left alone, in the wake of Gerard’s strongly scented cologne and sweat. Not to mention the cold liquid now almost completely dry on his shirt. He sucks it up, getting his shoes on and making his way into the bus after grabbing everything he almost left in his hurry to get into bed.

When he gets on the bus, the air is tense and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Bob, who is messing around on the game, seems to be going in reverse. Ray, who is strumming around on his guitar, makes it seem like the chords aren’t even being played. And Frank, who is dancing around while making some popcorn, looks like he’s just doing the robot (to Mikey, at least).

"Hey, Mikey. Where’s your brother?" Frank asks. His voice comes into Mikey’s ears as distant; his body is detached from the world, from everything that he once knew. And nothing can help him right now. Gerard ruined him. "Hello? Earth to Mikey." Frank starts moving his hand in front of his face.

"Stop," Mikey says through gritted teeth, grabbing Frank’s wrist. Frank furrows his eyebrows, pulling his hand out of Mikey’s grip and scoffing. "I don’t know where he is. He left before I did."

"But you two were in the dressing room together… he didn’t tell you where he was going when he left?" Frank asks. Mikey shakes his head no, and Frank just shrugs. "Probably went to go find himself some cigarettes," He pauses, looking up to the ceiling of the bus. "Or a good fuck."

Mikey cringes at the latter, but covers it up as a cough and leaves Frank to his own devices, which is the microwave that burnt his popcorn. Mikey slips into his bunk and lays his head down softly on the pillow. Gerard’s bunk is right above his, and he’s used to hearing movements when he finally decides it’s quitting time for the day. He sighs softly, closing his eyes.

If Gerard refuses to appreciate everything Mikey has to offer, then Mikey won’t appreciate Gerard. Simple as that.

--

Gerard makes his way into the bus way after Mikey had gone in. They couldn’t exactly leave without him; he makes the show. At least he thinks so. No, he knows so. Gerard is not at all full of himself. He had waited off to the side, watching Mikey stalk his way onto the bus. Afterwards, he couldn’t get straight onto the bus because he just can’t face anybody right now. He noticed that Worm left to go look for him, which was perfectly fine with him. Who cares? Sure as hell not him.

He sneaks on and looks onto the sofa to see Ray sprawled out. He grins and moves over next to Ray, poking him awake. At first, Ray puts up a fight to stay asleep, but Gerard’s incessant poking won’t let him get another wink of shut eye. He yawns, sits up, and turns the light on that’s next to the couch. Gerard shifts down next to him, snuggling into his chest.

"You need a shower, Gee," Ray says, a slight hint of humor in his voice. Gerard shrugs, letting out a little yawn. Before he knows it, he’s dead asleep and Ray’s hand is running through his short black hair, humming him a song. When Ray finally takes notice to Gerard’s sleeping state, he slowly gets up and makes his way over to the bunks. He peeks his head into Mikey’s bunk, seeing him lying there, reading a book. He’s not quite sure which one, though. "You okay?"

"Mhm. I’m perfectly fine," Mikey mumbles. Ray furrows his eyebrows and forces Mikey’s body over in the bunk. To be honest, bunks (especially one’s in tour buses), are not meant for two people. Especially two equally tall ones.

"I sense a lie," Ray says. Mikey shrugs and flips a page in the book. Honestly, he isn’t paying attention to any of the words that are printed on the page. He wasn’t even before Ray decided to drop in on him. The words didn’t make any sense at all, and it was giving him a major migraine that wouldn’t let up. "Tell me what’s up."

"Nothing is wrong, Ray. I’m just in a shitty mood," he sighs and turns his head towards the wall. "Ever feel like someone you thought you knew, when you finally realize you never did, that it’s as if your heart was ripped out?"

"Jesus, Mikey. What the fuck are you reading?" Ray takes the book from his hands but he can’t make out the title. "Fucking sparse light. I have no idea how you were reading that." He thinks about Mikey’s question before shaking his head no. "Not really… I think I know everyone I’m close to pretty well."

"What about if it was someone you grew up with?" Mikey then asks. Ray’s stomach clenches, but he has no idea why. He swallows hard and feels a cold sweat break out onto his skin.

"No," he mumbles. Mikey shrugs and starts to crawl over Ray’s body. "Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom… then maybe to watch some TV. Maybe a movie." Mikey slinks out of the small bunk and into the bathroom at the end of the walkway. The bathroom is no bigger than an airplane bathroom, which doesn’t give him, or anyone, much room to move around. Right now, Mikey could do with a long hot bubble bath. Not that he normally takes them… He hears they’re calming.

It’s not as if he hasn’t fully moved away from his childhood, because he has. At least the most one could do when you’re constantly touring and never stopping for a minute. He misses the childhood he had. Where he lived in Jersey and couldn’t be outside past dark because it was fucking Jersey. What most people don’t know, is that most people over exaggerate Jersey.

Sure, Jersey is a dark place. But people make it out to be all one-sided. And that one side being bad. It’s just that people don’t bother to look anywhere else, because oh, that kid was shot and thrown into the river near the park. Or, oh Lord, there was a holdup at the local corner store. Really, though, every state has this type of shit going on. And Mikey misses that home. He wants to go back to his childhood, before all of these confusing emotions happened.

Mikey wants to go back to the time when love was just a term that friends and family threw around because it was ‘the right thing to do.’ When really, he didn’t know the meaning of love. Technically, he still doesn’t. How can he love someone who’s a complete and utter asshole to him, who takes none of his feelings into consideration? That can’t be love… Infatuation? Possibly. Mikey’s leaning more towards that, so that he has something sturdy to stand on. Something he can say ‘yeah, that’s what this whole fucked up situation is.’

Gerard is an asshole. Nobody knows why, or how he came to be that way, but he is. Nobody’s ever really wanted to know, either. They figure if he wants to act that way, then so be it. They - or anybody else - can’t change that. It’s Gerard and people have to accept it, whether they want to or not.

He places his hands into the sink he had filled with cold water, moving them around slightly. The iciness awakens every nerve in his body, reminding him that yes, he is still alive. He is still living on the bus with his brother who is nothing but a prick to him. He is living on the bus with people who probably wouldn’t know how fucked up he truly was, even if it came up to introduce itself to them. And yes, he is truly screwed in every sense of the word.

Mikey brings his face down to the sink and splashes the water up into his face. It’s well past two AM, Mikey’s sure of it. Because last time he checked the clock, it was just going on two. That was some time ago, because he’s been contemplating the meaning of life while staring into the dark abyss that is the tour buses sink. He didn’t bother to turn the light on like the idiot he is. He’d prefer the dark now, anyway. He won’t have to see himself in the mirror. See his eyes that are so much like Gerard’s, yet so different, it’s almost pathetic.

Mikey has a thing for eyes. If he sees someone, the first thing he notices is their eyes. That and smile. He thinks that if you look hard enough, you’ll get to know everything about that person just by looking into their eyes. Lame thing to think, but that’s just how he feels about certain things.

He leaves the bathroom after a few more splashes and a few more not-so well thought out thoughts, to go to the living room. He’s just about to sit down on the couch when something stirs on it, letting out a low groan. Mikey shoots up and around, seeing Gerard sleeping peacefully there. He sighs and turns his attention to the TV that’s off.

"Figures that he’d be out here when I need to take my mind off of shit," Mikey whispers to himself. Apparently it’s not whispered enough, because Gerard’s eyes shoot open to land on him. He cringes and turns the TV on, figuring that since Gerard is awake, he can watch it now.

"What the fuck… It’s late. I’m trying to sleep," Gerard grumbles as Mikey plops himself down on the floor in front of the couch. Mikey shrugs and changes the channels continuously before Gerard grabs the remote out of his hand. "You won’t get anything, ass. You know that."

"I don’t fucking care. Give it back," Mikey says pathetically. Gerard laughs rudely and shakes his head.

"No. You should probably go get changed. And maybe go to bed, because in all honesty, I’m not in the mood to see or talk to you right now," Gerard says with an evil glimmer in his eyes. Maybe that’s why so many people think that he’s a vampire… They fucking gleam.

"Fuck you. I’ll do whatever I god damn please," Mikey says in a harsh whisper. Gerard shrugs and stands up, stretching high before dropping the remote into Mikey’s lap.

"Eh, sounds like a personal problem then." With that said, Gerard leaves the living area to go back to his bunk. But not before he stops into the bathroom, just like Mikey had. Mikey sighs and lays his head back on the couch cushion, biting down on his tongue hard.

"Fuck," he growls to himself. "Fuck…"

--

The sun is shining brightly the next day, much to Mikey and Gerard’s disappointment. Whoever says that the weather matches your moods, they must have been completely drunk off their ass or high to the sky. Because right now, a tornado probably would have done better with their moods right now. Not the fucking sun and chirping birds, like it’s the first day of Spring.

The band had the whole day off to do whatever they pleased in the state they stopped in, which was Nevada. Nothing like some fun gambling and whores to offer sex to you, right? Wrong. Although Bob, Frank, and Ray find it hilarious how all of these hookers have no teeth (supposedly it’s good for sucking), Mikey and Gerard don’t find the hilarity in it at all. They don’t find anything funny at the moment. Not even if an old person were to fall (no one ever said they were nice guys).

Bob went off to go try his luck in a casino, seeing as how he says ‘you only live once… plus, when do we come to Vegas on our days off!?’ Frank went to find something to eat, since the fucker's always hungry. And Ray… is probably working in the back of the bus. Like the hermit that he is. That leaves Gerard and Mikey alone in the hotel room, something both of them could’ve done without right now. Actually, they could’ve done without it until death, because what do you say to your brother that you just fucked over, in more ways than one?

Mikey tried to start up a conversation, but Gerard wasn’t having any of it. Even when Mikey said he was sorry and that he’d stay away from Gerard for good, he wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence. That pissed Mikey off, because he tried so hard to just bury the hatchet (that has only had its annoying little existence for not even a day and a half). Mikey isn’t the most patient of guys - he’d be the first one to tell you. He hates waiting for shit. And don’t even get him started on waiting for ‘fast food.’

"Gee, lets go eat," Mikey says, nudging his brother. He still isn’t having any of it. Mikey growls and throws his arms in the air. "What do you want from me!? I can’t do anything to please you, can I? It fucking takes two to tango, Gerard. I did not stick your cock into my ass. You did it on your own," Mikey pauses, taking a few deep breaths before going on. "I told you to stop because I knew you didn’t want it."

Gerard continues to ignore him. Mikey gets up, goes to the bathroom, and locks himself in there. If Gerard wants to pretend like Mikey doesn’t exist, Mikey will make that happen. He’ll keep himself locked in the bathroom. Kind of like a hunger strike, which this might as well be. Because Mikey sure as hell didn’t bring any food with him when he decided to keep himself in here.

"And now is the time when Mikey gets the award for being the dumbest person ever, obviously," he mumbles to himself. He rests his head against the doorframe, letting it loll from side to side. He has the beginnings of a migraine coming, and he can’t even go get some Tylenol. Could he be anymore fucking retarded?

Gerard, please just accept my apology… I said I was sorry. I fucking can’t stand this!

Mikey gets up, after thinking through his jumbled thoughts for what feels like an eternity and goes into the part of the hotel suite where Gerard is. He’s sprawled out on the bed, hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Mikey walks over to him with long, sure steps, making sure to keep his head held high. He won’t let his nerves fuck him over this time.

"You’re going to stop being a prick to me right now, or I swear to every fucking God there is that I’ll kill you," he says in a malicious growl. Gerard looks over to him, eyebrows raised, before shaking his head. "Answer me, you prick!"

Gerard still doesn’t. That’s it. Mikey’s had enough and he won’t take it anymore. He can’t stand how he’d bend over backwards for Gerard, but Gerard can’t even do a favor for him. He crawls onto the bed, like a predator about to attack its pray, straddling Gerard’s hips roughly.

"You asked for this, Gerard. You can’t tell me you doubted me. You know how I am." Mikey grabs a pillow, admiring it. "Remember that time a long, long time ago that I was so fucking close to shooting your brains out, you begged for mercy?"

Gerard nods his head to this. His eyes are wide in fear - not smugness like they had once been. Mikey nods his head too, thinking of it.

"Gerard, if you think that I’m joking, you’re sorely mistaken," Mikey says to his brother with the gun pointed at him. "I told you not to mess with me. But yet, you go and fuck around with everything I worked so hard to build for myself? My life?"

"Mikes, please don’t do this. You know that you aren’t this way. I thought you changed," Gerard says with pleading eyes. Mikey rolls his own, pushing Gerard’s head slightly with the gun.

"Change is something even the best of us can’t do," Mikey shrugs, not even paying attention to the words pouring from his mouth on their own accord. Why would he need to when Mikey has the gun and Gerard does not?

"But Mikey, you did change. Remember when you told me that you were over all that shit? Everything you had done wrong, you righted? You can do it again. It’s only me. I’m your brother. And I love you no matter what. I’m sorry for getting into your personal business and screwing up everything you worked for." Gerard has tears rolling down his cheeks by this point. "It wasn’t intentional. Besides, I didn’t think you would react this badly."

"Oh please. This is me we’re talking about, Gee. Remember, the kid who always seemed to be at the right place at the wrong time? The kid who everyone said ‘oh, he’ll grow up to be some serial killer,’ and not even care that their words could effect me in such a way?" Mikey lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head a second after. The laughing lasts for a half-second, if that. "It’s funny how people’s words can change how you feel about the world. How you feel about everything around you, and the people you go through each day with."

Mikey has started backing up by this point, moving up and down in front of Gerard. This is completely out of character for ‘new Mikey’; for ‘improved Mikey.’ Everyone had thought he had gotten better after what he claimed to have, which really, was simply his own delusional thoughts. He never was as crazy as he led himself on to be. That was a one time thing, and this time was never supposed to happen.

"Okay, Gee," Mikey sighs after letting everything process in his mind. The gun, his words, Gerard’s words, his life up to this point. He’s still young and he has his whole life ahead of him. He isn’t going to ruin it now. "I guess you’re right."

Mikey sits the gun down on the table near the door and walks out, leaving Gerard to clasp his chest and breathe in deeply. That was something he never wanted to relive.

"I wonder what really did change my mind…" Mikey ponders out loud. Gerard just shakes his head, indicating that he doesn’t know. "Oh well, guess it doesn’t really matter."

"Mikey, please don’t…" Gerard says, his hazel eyes watering with tears threatening to fall. Gerard doesn’t normally cry; it’s not his thing. "Please… I love you."

That was the last line Mikey had to hear before he placed the pillow over Gerard’s face, pressing down hard. Gerard starts flailing, moving his limbs all around to push Mikey off. But with the pillow being almost (or so it seems) shoved into his mouth, he’s losing the breathing ability quickly. Mikey’s mumbling his cries about how Gerard never loved him - not as a brother and not as anything more. How he never cared for him. Never truly listened. How he brought this upon himself.

Gerard’s arms and legs are getting slower and slower by the second. Mikey can feel his heartbeat slowing down; he’s leaning against Gerard’s chest, almost pushing the air out of his lungs. With one last jerk of his head and one last slap of his hand, Gerard goes limp. Mikey keeps the pillow pushed onto his face just to make sure, only moving it away after a minute or so of Gerard’s non-movements.

The eyes staring back up at him are sad; sad for the fact that this time, he couldn’t talk his brother out of doing what he so very much wanted to do. Hurt; for the fact that he did bring this upon himself and pushed Mikey to the limit. And most of all, love; because although Gerard was a self-centered mother fucker, he loved his brother. Just too ashamed to admit it.

"Remember, Gerard," Mikey whispers, putting the pillow off to the side. "You always hurt the ones you love."