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PROMPTS!
God, I am eternally embarrassed at people tweeting Matt Pelissier questions about Frank/Gerard. UGH, I just want them to stop doing that. And I want Matt to just ignore those questions and not even attempt to answer them! He's said some interesting stuff about the making of Bullets, though, like that Early Sunsets was the only song Gee didn't write the lyrics for. Someone ''outside the band'' wrote the lyrics? I wonder who... And Matt apparently wrote the music for that song. HMMMMM.
here's his twitter if you happened to miss it!
Hey, so, those prompts? Leave me some and I'll try to commentfic you in the near future! I'll write anything with MCR (+Bob & Brian... and Matt Cortez! And okay, Patrick Stump too, and possibly Pete Wentz). You can prompt me with some scenarios you'd like to see written, or leave me song/picture/word prompts!
DO IT! GO!
here's his twitter if you happened to miss it!
Hey, so, those prompts? Leave me some and I'll try to commentfic you in the near future! I'll write anything with MCR (+Bob & Brian... and Matt Cortez! And okay, Patrick Stump too, and possibly Pete Wentz). You can prompt me with some scenarios you'd like to see written, or leave me song/picture/word prompts!
DO IT! GO!
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The sweltering heat of Mount Washington in the summertime's hit Frank's body like a hit of weed, making him slow and sluggish. He's spent most of the summer in New Jersey, and his body's still trying to adjust to the heat of the California sun.
He'd been so excited to help Gerard out with the Trans Am, making it perfect for the video, but after two hours of painting red stripes on the side of the car, crouched down and working his brush over the surface with careful strokes -- developing a crick in his neck in the process -- and he's just done for the day. He's sweaty in his jeans and t-shirt, overgrown hair wet and sticking to his neck and cheeks when he rotates his head from side to side, trying to alleviate some of the tension in his muscles.
"I don't understand how you can work in this heat," he grumbles when Gerard passes by with a paint brush in hand and specks of paint drying on his bare arms. His hair is newly dyed, a shocking red and messy as ever, clumps of it spiked on the back of his head where his hand's been raking through it, blue paint gluing some strands together. Frank maybe wants to stick his hands in the mess and sort it out for Gerard. He's already making plans for later when Gerard's finally done with the car and he can drag him in the shower and run his soapy hands all over Gerard's skin.
Gerard gives him a sly grin like he's reading Frank's thoughts without even having to make an effort, that motherfucker. "It's not even that bad, dude. It was way worse a couple of weeks ago. You're just a fucking pussy." He kneels down next to Frank's side of the car, checking out Frank's paintwork with a pleased smile.
"Psh," Frank says, kicking his leg out from under him, getting more comfortable on the sun-warmed driveway. "You just have years of practice, sweating out in your hoodies and jackets on summer tours like an asshole."
Gerard just shrugs, plopping the brush in a jar of blue paint. "I can't wait to see the final design on our jackets. They're gonna look badass!" He grins and reaches out to jiggle Frank's ankle a little.
Frank huffs out a laugh at Gerard's excited face. "God, you're such a kid sometimes."
"What? And you're not excited?"
"Never said that," Frank smiles sweetly up at Gerard, a thrill going through him when he thinks about the adventure they're embarking on, and god, fall could not come any sooner.
The sun is starting to set when Gerard's putting finishing touches on the huge spider on the hood. Frank's smoking quietly on the tarmac, watching rays of sun getting caught in the tangles of Gerard's hair and admiring the concentrated but so, so contented look on his face. Frank had sucked it up and finished painting the stars on the flag under the stripes when it got a little cooler, but he'd gone back to lazing around when his thighs had started cramping and his calves falling asleep.
God, he's getting old.
"I think we're just about done for the day," Gerard says finally, dropping his brush in the jar on the hood of the car, then picking it up and placing it on the row of paint jars sitting on the lawn. "We'll dirty it up tomorrow, make it look like it's seen some adventures." He offers Frank a hand and pulls him up, stealing the smoke that's hanging from Frank's mouth and taking a long drag.
"Hey, get your own," Frank complains, but lets Gerard finish smoking the cigarette anyway. Whatever. Gee's done most of the work, he deserves it more than Frank.
Frank waits for Gerard to drive the car in the garage, smirking at the Fun Ghoul logo he'd painted on the rear and wondering how long it'll take for Gerard to notice it.
Now that the job's finally done, Frank's body is suddenly buzzing with energy, his fatigue's been replaced by a hot thrumming of want that's always there when he sees Gerard after being apart for a while. He follows the car in the garage, makes the door slide down and gets the light on. He goes to stand on the driver's side and rakes a hand through his hair while he waits for Gerard to clamber out. He still feels overheated, but not in a lethargic way anymore.
"What's up," Gerard says when he's shut the door, smiling down at Frank. "You look like you want something."
"What do you think?" Frank rolls his eyes, grabbing the back of Gerard's neck and pulling him in for a hot, lingering kiss.
When they break apart, Gerard pushes Frank up against the side of the car where the paint's already dry, and tucks his hands under Frank's t-shirt, resting their foreheads together. Frank tries to even out his breathing, but the kiss and the close proximity to Gerard has him already straining in his jeans, his belly swooping when Gerard leans in to catch Frank's lips in another sweet, hot kiss.
"You're right," Gerard murmurs against Frank's lips, ducking down to nuzzle Frank's neck, running his fingers up and down Frank's back. Frank sighs, shivers breaking out on his sweaty skin. "We can definitely start dirtying it up tonight."
"I'm always right," Frank drones, pushing away from the car and crowding Gerard until he's the one pushed up against it, leaning up on his toes to kiss Gerard again. He tugs at the waist of Gerard's jeans and gets the button thumbed open, yanking at the zipper until Gerard's half-hard dick is hanging out. The lack of underwear doesn't even faze him anymore. He's come to expect it.
"I'm gonna suck you, okay?" He mouths the words against Gerard's neck while he palms Gerard's dick, feeling it growing hard in his hand.
"Fuck, Frank, yeah," Gerard breathes out, slumping a bit against the car and getting his hands in Frank's hair as soon as Frank's settled on his knees on the floor.
Frank feels so hot, his own dick's pressing tight against the soft denim of his jeans and his skin is practically vibrating when he rubs his lips against the head of Gerard's dick, slowly taking him in. He can't keep the needy groan from slipping out, but it gets drowned out in the noises that Gerard makes. He allows himself a moment to adjust to the feel of Gerard's dick, heavy on his tongue, before moving his head and sucking more of him in.
"Fuck, fuck, Frankie, your fucking mouth," Gerard hisses, his grip on Frank's hair tightening so much Frank lets out a noise of protest, squeezing the base of Gerard's dick. "Ugh, shit. Sorry," Gerard groans, letting go of Frank's hair and petting his head a little.
"No yanking," Frank warns him, sighing when Gerard's fingers slip under the neck of Frank's t-shirt instead.
"I know, I'm sorry," Gerard murmurs, fingers pressing in the tight of Frank's muscles, kneading them as he tries to explain himself. "I just -- I fucking love your mouth."
Frank grins, ducking down to lick at the underside of Gerard's dick and then sucking at the come pearling on the head. Gerard makes a hot noise when Frank takes him in again, fingers still working Frank's neck but slow and without any rhythm now.
Gerard keeps a low murmur of praises and little noises while Frank sucks him, and Frank thinks he might be able to come from just this, just Gerard's voice, and Gerard's hands, and Gerard's dick in his mouth, but when the head hits the back of Frank's throat and he has to swallow around Gerard, Gerard comes with a surprised cry, his hands holding Frank's head gently in place while he thrusts a few times into his mouth.
Frank closes his eyes and relaxes his throat, pressing the heel of his palm against the line of his own dick, trying to alleviate some of the pressure while he waits for Gerard to finish.
"Shit," Gerard breathes out when his dick's slipping out, and runs his knuckles gently down Frank's cheek. "Frank. Frankie."
Frank pushes Gerard's hands away and turns to spit the come at the car door, chuckling as it starts gliding down and taking some of the paint with it.
"Frank -- what?"
"That'll look nice on the close up shots," Frank grins, voice a little scratchy. He leans his head on Gerard's thigh and palms himself through his jeans, just needing to come already.
Gerard looks at him for a while like he's crazy, but then just starts laughing, shaking his head with amusement. "C'mere, then," he says, helping Frank up on his feet and turning him around, making him place his hands on the roof of the car. "Keep them there," he murmurs in Frank's ear, biting down and sucking the lobe into his mouth while he pushes Frank's jeans and boxers down around his thighs.
Frank makes a sharp noise and presses his head against the car window, concentrating on the feel of Gerard's hands caressing his ass and thighs before Gerard starts jacking him with quick, tight strokes.
"You're a dirty little thing, aren't you?" Gerard chuckles, twisting his hand and rubbing his thumb over the head of Frank's dick. "Making a mess of my car after I finally finished painting it."
"Gee, please." Frank shudders, balling his fists, his belly flipping. He's so close, so close he can practically taste it. He just needs--
"I don't think I'll be able to look at the car anymore without remembering this. You spread out on it, so desperate to come."
"Fuck." Frank's breath catches when Gerard's free hand slips between his thighs and cups his balls, softly rolling them, and he scratches his fingers on the roof, whining low in his throat.
"Come on, Frankie. Come for me," Gerard coaxes, licking a stripe up along the column of Frank's neck, then biting his shoulder. He tugs at Frank's dick once, twice, and then Frank's coming fast on the Trans Am, his come mixing in with Gerard's on the painted surface. "Shit, Gee," he breathes out, his voice sounding like a whine in his ears.
Gerard presses a kiss to the back of Frank's head, then one between his shoulder blades, still petting Frank's dick through the aftershocks. "So good, Frankie," he praises, bringing his hands on Frank's stomach when Frank's dick stops twitching, holding him in a warm, tight hug. "You have the best ideas, I swear to god."
Frank snorts, leaning back against Gerard's chest while he checks out the damage on the car. "Somehow I doubt this'll go well with Mikey and Ray, though," he says, smiling when Gerard's lips press against his cheek.
"Yeah, well, it's their own fault for not being here to paint the car."
Frank hums, amusing himself with the thought of Mikey and Ray finding out about them defacing the precious Trans Am. He can just imagine the horrified look on Mikey's face and it brings him into a fit of giggles. "Oh god, too much," he gets out, practically shaking with amusement.
Gerard squeezes his waist and then lets go of him, and his face is lit up with amusement.
"Maybe you're right." Gerard shrugs, then tucks his dick back into his jeans, zipping up. He studies Frank for a while like he's trying to decide what to do with him. Then he just grins and opens the car door, cocking his hip against it.
"Feel like going for a ride, Frankie?" he asks, his grin splitting his face in half. "We'll cover our tracks with dirt. They'll never notice anything. It'll be our little secret."
Frank can't help the smirk spreading out on his own face. He fucking loves Gerard, and he knows there's nothing Gerard could suggest that he wouldn't just go with. Gerard has the best ideas.
"God, you're such a freak," Frank chuckles while he pulls his pants back on and goes to get the garage door open.
"Hey, you're the one who had to ruin the paint job. Don't even start with me, Frankie. We both know whose fault this is."
"Fine, we're both freaks." Frank takes the shotgun seat and buckles up, waits for Gerard to do the same. "Let's go," he smirks, and Gerard matches his smile as he backs the car out on the driveway.
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The cars were totally what I was going for, not the weather!
And omg :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
So great. And fucking hot.
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2. oh god. this is a fic where... absolutely nothing happens, and i'm sorry about that too. i hope you still like it, though /o\
After spending so much time in LA where it's summer all the time, going back to Jersey feels like Christmas for everyone. Except that Christmas was over a month ago, and the four of them had spent it in their home in LA, curled up on the couch watching Christmas specials on TV and trying to distract Frank whenever he started complaining about the lack of snow and how everything sucked balls in California.
Now they're finally back in Jersey, settled in their second home, and Ray's finding it hard to remember why they ever moved away from here. He's spent most of the day reacquainting himself with the little studio space he and Frank put together on their last elongated visit here, sitting in a stripe of sunlight and playing new melodies on his guitars, suddenly really inspired. The tunes he strums come out grittier here, more and more of the Jersey-feel returning to him with every hour and erupting in new melodies.
Mikey knocks on the door and pokes his head in when Ray's just finished penciling in a line of notes. "'Sup, dude. You've been here all day," he says with an affectionate smile, stepping in the room and leaning his hip against the table with a huge stack of notes.
"I think I sort of… lost the track of time," Ray says, apologetic, placing his guitar in its holder. He rolls his shoulders and leans back in his chair, studying Mikey, his relaxed features and the smooth line of his brows: being in Jersey always looks good on him.
"I know," Mikey says around his smile. "You always do." It's not an accusing tone, but Ray remembers all the times when Mikey and Frank would have to drag him out of the studio, angry and exasperated at Ray for working so long that all the muscles in his body ached and he could barely keep himself awake. And Gerard would silently judge him from a distance, casting him meaningful looks that made Ray feel more guilty than Mikey and Frank's words ever could.
But now everything's good again, and Ray feels like he's found a balance, and he doesn't need others telling him when it's time to stop for the day.
He picks himself up from the chair and ruffles Mikey's hair a little, draping his arm around him.
"Frankie and Gee in the living room?" he asks. That's where he'd seen them when he was taking a break from his guitars, getting coffee from the pot that never really seemed to run out of fresh coffee. It's just one of the perks that comes from living with the Way brothers.
Mikey nods, sinking in Ray's hold for a while. "Gee was still drawing when I came upstairs. Frankie was playing with Mama under the window. They went out a while ago, and came back all muddy and gross."
Ray cringes, hoping Frank gave Mama a bath, or at least wiped her down with a towel. "I must have been here longer than I thought," he says. He checks the clock on the wall and it's already four in the afternoon, and wow, he really should be finishing up for the day.
"Come down then, let's go see what Gee and Frank are up to."
"Lead the way," Ray says, holding the door open for Mikey to exit.
--
The bright spring sunshine wakes Ray up the next morning at 8:15, sunlight drilling into the room from the haphazardly shut drapes and irritating his eyes. On his left Mikey and Frank are curled up together, their limbs tangled and Mikey's nose pressed in the crook of Frank's neck, but Gerard's not in the room anymore.
Ray leaves Frank and Mikey in the bed and pulls on a t-shirt, going to look for him.
He finds Gerard in the kitchen, talking to his phone, a huge mug of coffee in front of him on the table. Gerard greets him with a hand wave and a small smile, losing his train of thought for a second as he stumbles his way through the story he's reciting to whoever's on the line.
Ray picks up a mug for himself from the sink and rinses it out under the tab before filling it with coffee, listening to the conversation. It must be the radio interview that was scheduled for Gerard for today, although he doesn't remember Gerard mentioning it being so early.
The interview lasts another five minutes and then Gerard's saying his goodbyes to the listeners with a huge grin on his face.
"Man, I thought the guy would never stop talking," Gerard says, chugging the last of his coffee. "All the callers were real sweet kids, though, I hope I made somebody's day."
"I'm pretty certain you did."
Gerard smiles, looking at Ray. "What're you doing up so early? We're supposed to be resting, y'know, before the big tour and all."
"It's too bright in the room to sleep. Although, Frank and Mikey seemed to have no problem."
"Were they still all curled up together? It took a lot to get up from bed and take the phone call."
Ray nods, smiling into his mug. "I didn't realize the interview would be this early? Did it take long?"
Gerard shrugs, raking a hand through his hair. "Maybe fifteen minutes. They played Na Na in the middle, and Helena towards the end. I sort of just remembered the interview when you'd all gone to bed last night, I didn't wanna wake you up. God, you'd think after so much coffee, I wouldn't be so tired, and yet."
"You wanna go back to bed?" Ray suggests. He could still nap a while, or at least lie with his eyes closed and listen to Frank's snuffling breath if he couldn't fall back asleep."
Gerard grins and puts his mug in the sink, then folds his arm around Ray's neck and pulls him in for a kiss. "Or we could just let those two sleep and sprawl on the couch with the TV on. I've neglected watching Cartoon Network for way too long!"
"That sounds actually really nice," Ray says, and runs his hand through Gerard's yellow-orange hair, leaning in for another kiss.
Mikey and Frank wander down in the living room a couple of Casper episodes later. Frank slumps in Ray's lap and steals his bowl of cereal while Mikey takes the empty space between Ray and Gerard, leaning his back on Ray's side and propping his legs in Gerard's lap. "What're we watching?" he asks sleepily, blinking at the screen with bleary eyes.
Gerard shushes him, batting his hand in Mikey's direction but he's otherwise still completely absorbed in the cartoon. "Shut up, Mikey. This episode's my favorite."
--
It's getting late. The sun's set hours ago and it's pitch black, the living room dark apart from the light streaming in through the TV screen. Ray feels like he's finally reached his limit of random reality TV, which the brothers are still completely absorbed in. Frank'd already gotten bored after the first half of Jersey Shore, saying it wasn't nearly as entertaining to watch it here than back in California.
Ray walks around the house and looks out the window into the porch. Frank's sitting on the porch railing in just his hoodie and jeans, a plume of smoke drifting skywards from his cigarette.
Ray takes his jacket from the hook on the wall and pulls it on while he walks upstairs, getting his and Frank's acoustic guitars from the studio before going out to meet Frank outside.
"You want a jacket?" Ray asks as he hands Frank his guitar, closing the front door when Frank shakes his head and stubs his smoke on the railing, then chucks it in the jar by the wall.
"I'm good."
"You sure? You don't wanna get sick this close to the tour."
Frank rolls his eyes and fits his guitar in his lap, running his fingers down the strings once. "I'm sure, mom."
"Hey, I just don't want you starting the tour half dead, okay? It's not fun for any of us."
Frank sighs, looking up at Ray from his guitar. "I know, I know. I'll get my jacket if I start getting cold, okay?"
"That's all I'm asking," Ray says, perching on the railing next to Frank's outstretched leg. "I've been writing some stuff lately, but I can't seem to figure out this one part. It just doesn't sound right. Feel like helping me out?"
Frank grins big, nudging Ray's thigh with the tip of his shoe. "Always. Let's hear it."
"Okay," Ray ducks his head and grins down at his guitar, placing his fingers on the strings, then he starts to play.
They play for hours, making up new tunes and jamming the old ones. When they finally stumble into the bedroom, Gerard and Mikey are already asleep there, Mikey curled up behind Gerard with his arm draped around Gerard's waist. Frank tugs Ray in bed by his hand, and they fit themselves on the other side, mirroring the brothers with Frank pressed to Gerard's chest and Ray holding him from behind.
"Night, Ray," Frank sighs as Gerard nuzzles closer to him, and Ray smiles, pressing his face in the back of Frank's neck and squeezing his waist.
"Night, Frankie."
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Prompt wise. Could you spin off from that Way bros pj pic somehow?
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haha, i'll see what i can do with the prompt! it might take some time, i haven't started with turlough's fic yet!
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Gerard's not usually a light sleeper, but staying in the Paramour has put him on the edge. Every creek and crackle arouses him from sleep, and then he tosses and turns in his bed for ages before falling back asleep.
When someone knocks on the door, Gerard jumps, his heart hammering fast in his chest. He blinks at the door, trying to see better in the heavy darkness as the door creaks open and his brother's head pokes in. "Mikey?"
"Can, um, c-can I come in?"
Gerard frowns, confused. Mikey never asks him if he can do anything, he just does, and for a while Gerard's baffled into silence. When he finally finds his voice, Mikey's still in the doorway, looking small and scared, desperate to come in.
"You don't have to ask," Gerard says, shuffling on the bed to make room for Mikey. Mikey closes the door with careful, quiet motions and then just dives in the bed under the covers, pressing his face in the pillow while Gerard watches his body losing most of its tension.
"Mikey," Gerard says softly, wriggling on the bed until he's lying on his side close to Mikey, then touches Mikey's hair as he tries to turn his head to better see his face. "Is everything okay?"
"Fine," Mikey breathes out, his eyes closed. "Go back to sleep," he says, and then doesn't say anything else, already fast asleep.
--
"So what was that all about?" Gerard asks Mikey the next morning while they're both waiting for the water to boil. Mikey's turning the instant coffee tin in his hands, not looking up at Gerard when he tries to make eye contact.
"What do you mean?" he asks, measuring coffee powder in his vat of a mug with a teaspoon and then pouring water in, steam puffing out of the nozzle and curling out of the mug.
"Last night? I don't think you've slept in my bed since we were kids."
Mikey stays silent for a while as he stirs the coffee, spoon clinking against the edges of the cup. "It's nothing," he says finally, dropping the spoon in the sink. "Just forget about it."
--
But the next night Mikey's back in his room, curled up next to him when Gerard wakes up from an odd dream that felt disturbingly real, and he feels disoriented for a while, trying to remember where he is.
Mikey starts moaning in the pillow in distress, his brows furrowed, gripping the sheet tight in his fist.
"Mikey, wake up," Gerard whispers, shaking Mikey's shoulder. Mikey makes a loud noise, almost like a sob, before Gerard gets him awake.
"What--?"
"You were having a bad dream," Gerard says, only letting go of Mikey's shoulder when he's sure Mikey's completely awake and doesn't start freaking out.
"Shit, it was okay for a while. I felt safe, but then something happened--" Mikey rubs his face with his hand. "You were gone."
"Mikey -- what? Talk to me, I don't understand."
Mikey sighs, looking down at his knees like he's embarrassed. Then he gets up from the bed and looks around, grabbing Gerard's hoodie that's hanging from the back of a chair. "Go back to sleep, Gee. I'm okay, I just need to clear my head a little." He drapes the hoodie over his shoulders and leaves Gerard alone in the room.
--
Every night that Mikey spends in Gerard's room, Gerard sees the same dream. He's in a dark forest with Mikey, all around them pine trees that rise so far up to the black, stormy sky that they look like they go on forever. They walk down a mossy path with lanterns lighting their way, dark figures moving in the jungle of trees around them but not one dares to venture out to the narrow path. Gerard feels that they'll be safe for as long as they have the light.
Mikey stumbles on the same root every night and Gerard always catches his arm before Mikey gets thrown out of the path.
It feels like the path goes on forever, but Gerard still has a feeling that they don't walk without a purpose, that sooner or later they will come out on the other side of the forest, that they will get out if they just keep walking.
He confronts Mikey about it one afternoon when they're taking a break from recording. Ray and Bob are playing some game on Xbox in the living room, and Frank is sprawled out in a chair next to them, snickering whenever Bob's character gets swarmed by zombies and Ray has to come to his rescue.
"I've been having really weird dreams lately," Gerard says, studying Mikey's face. They're sitting on the floor in the kitchen, leaning against cupboards with coffee mugs warming their fingers.
Mikey cracks a smile that doesn't even come close to reaching his eyes. "What, you too?"
"Yeah, every night the same one. I'm walking in a forest with you--" that catches Mikey's attention, and he turns to look at Gerard, surprised. "We're in the pajamas we wore when we were little... remember? The ones with the sheep? And we have lanters--" Gerard sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "What do you think it means?"
Mikey blinks, then presses his head back down, looking at the mug resting on his knees. "I think it means I'm not going insane after all."
Gerard frowns, not understanding. "What do you mean? Talk to me."
Mikey takes a while before answering, but when he does, Gerard can tell Mikey's being completely honest with him.
"Every night since we got here I've been in that forest," Mikey confesses, placing the mug on the floor and burying his face in his hands. "Alone in the dark with all the monsters until you came along. You brought the light with you."
Gerard's at a loss. He knew Mikey was having bad dreams, but that they were both having the same dream? "I -- this is fucking surreal."
"I don't think anything in the forest can hurt me when you're there. It's still disturbing, but at least I don't wake up to monsters pulling me out of the path every night anymore. You always catch me before I fall."
"Always," Gerard says, his voice sounding fierce in his ears. "We'll get out of that forest together, okay?"
Mikey's worrying his lip, looking sad, at a loss. "I didn't know I'd be pulling you in the dream when I started sleeping next to you. I just thought being close to you helped me relax, turn the dream into something not so terrifying. I never would have come to your room if I'd known you'd start seeing the same nightmare."
"Mikey, listen. We're getting out of that place together, okay? Do you think I'm gonna let you sleep alone anymore? I'm not leaving you alone there."
"But--"
"Mikey, shut up. You're moving into my room and that's final. Don't even try to talk me out of this because you can't."
Mikey studies Gerard's face for a while, searching his eyes, and he sighs, burying his face in his knees. "This place freaks me out so much, Gee. I wish we'd never come here."
Gerard runs his hand down Mikey's back and smooths out Mikey's hood on his shoulders. "I know, I know. Everything's gonna be fine, though. You're not alone anymore. And our album's gonna be so great, and hey, at least we'll have cool stories to tell everyone when we're finally out of this place, right?"
Mikey snorts and shakes his head, but there's a small, genuine smile forming on his lips. "Yeah, real cool stories alright."
(and then in my head they get out of the forest on the last night they spend in the mansion, and perhaps bob, ray and frank are somehow involved too? like they're all lost in the forest and mikey and gerard have to find them before they all lose their miiiiiinds~)
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I love the direction you took, how dreams and the forest and fears were all meshing together, and how Gerard was there to keep Mikey safe always.
I love that as soon as Mikey realises they're sharing the same dream he says he's not going to share Gerard's bed, and of course Gerard says no to that.
I love Paramour stories and I love this. Thank you so much!
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