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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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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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