Gerard's looking for a car.
"....it's not what I want when it's out of malice. That's a huge difference. Love to punish and love....to love someone. It's not love when it's used against you. I want love naturally and meaningfully. Why won't you understand? I'll take your toxic kisses and hope, pray they have a hidden meaning...." - desparation born from pain - Mikey
Mikey: It was a graveyard of brown, grey, blackened, twisted metal. Some contorted into useless heaps of junk barely classable as cars anymore.
Most of the scrapyard dealt in gearboxes or salvageable parts that were open to scavenging through and be re-purchased. It did sell 'project cars' - whole cars that needed a bit of TLC to be roadworthy again.
It was strange to be there so late. The only light being the dim streetlights dotted around the perimiter and the moon. In the back of the car-graveyard, behind stacks of crushed vehicles, stood the owners house-turned-shop, it's yellow light spilling onto the dirt.
We wandered around aimlessly. Hardly any cars seemed 'right' for him. I was starting to wonder why Gerard insisted I came and not Mom or Dad.
"Oh! Wow!" Gerard had spotted something, at long last. Something fit for him, more than a mere mortal. He wouldn't settle for just any car.
What did he find?
A dilapadated hearse. Coffin-car, funeral car, whichever words you fancy. He ran a leather-gloved hand up it's sleek frame. It was an old one too, and that only added to it's macabre presence.
The black, sombre paint had lost it's shine and had peeled right off at the front. It's front bumper was crumpled, making the hood jut open very slightly. It had a fitting, eerie presence to it.
"G, are you seriously considering this?" I couldn't contain a shudder, because of the cold and the sick joke of the car before me.
He licked his lips and nodded happily.
"Get in it." Gerard threw open the front door and got in. I got into the passenger seat.
"No, you can go in the back." Gerard pointed at the empty cavity behind us. It was still coffin-width with it's long-ago polished oak units at the sides.
"No. I can't..." I spoke softly, contemplating all about it's previous 'visitors'.
"Hey, I said get in!" I took no longer and crawled over my seat into the coffin's space and sat, holding my knees. It was freezing too, the cold air seeping through the cracks as well.
"Gerard, I don't like this one." I complained, examining the oak units beside me.
"Well." He crawled into the back with me, on all fours. "I do. Once you strip out these boxes, it's just a big estate car." the words didn't soothe me despite the soothing tone that he used.
"And, it'll be good to transport stuff in." Lousy excuse.
"But, don't you feel a bit... weird that this is where dead people have been?" Gee was crawling closer so I shuffled until I made contact with the back.
"No... It's unique, don't you like that?" Gerard looked puzzled. But if I know him, this could easily be a trap of some sort, to draw out something from me. Something he'd use to draw stupid conclusions on something. Our mounting close-ness was making me feel hot. It crept onto my cheeks, indicating a big giveaway.
"Um, yeah but... Still G. A hearse? A bit creepy, no?" He was looking suspicious of something now, eyes narrowing. But enjoying my nervousness, no doubt.
"It's only a car." He got one of my wrists.
"Just because it's a hearse doesn't mean it can't drive like any other car." I saw that distant look he obtained when he was in fury. His words sounded very deliberately chosen so I concentrated more.
He held my arm to the inside of trunk's door.
"So, as long as I like it, it's okay. As long as it's enjoyed." Gerard was not just talking about the car. It was a metaphore, I bet. I ahte when he's in those moods. Gerard looked too vacant to be talking normally.
"I can do whatever I want. If I own it. It's mine, even if I haven't payed." He yanked up my jacket sleeve and traced up and down my arm. It tickled but was intensely stimulating too. Here, he had me. I hoped in scared suspence of something from him. I can't take such things from Gerard. It's up to him wheather he wants to do things. I'm not the giver in these situations. I have to merely encourage it silently.
"You agree? I own it? Not a word now." It touched on me that G had been drinking, as I could smell something on him, only faintly.
I nodded. Do I only have him when he's angry, or pissed...?
He leaned in, his lips brushing my neck. The lips coursed up to my jawline. I was still. Would he hit me for some reason? Or was this what would happen when he didn't lash out?
"Don't dare move." he whispered. This was his ultimate dominance on me. He knows this is what I've wanted, but disallowed myself to give....
I was ashamed at the pleasure I got from my brother being this way. All of my body tells me not to give into this, not to allow myself to be thrown around. But everything else likes it. I like sitting on Gerard's lap, I like sharing beds. But then, that's a bit different to what we were doing now.
G fumbled to get a grasp on my other hand, then held that too behind me. His body swayed slightly while he advanced.
GERARD: Surely this was okay. I truly had Mikey now. No going back. It would change everything, and nothing at all. It was only confirming my thoughts of how great this humiliating but pleasureable dominance was. I mean, pleasureable for the both of us! This would not become the norm for us, but simply an experiment. Merely taunting him to become forever mine. A test if you will.
I kissed a line softly from the side of his glasses, to the corner of his mouth. I was liking this a lot. There was little thought to this. I didn't intend for us to make a big deal out of a simple kiss. But boy would I make it a good one!
I clasped his sweaty hands harder and crushed my chapped lips to his. This was less out of love than a show of ownership, trust me. I still reveled in the secret deliciousness of it though. God how good Mikey tastes.
To my surprise, Mikey was kissing back, and I was stuck for a second. I was in charge, I wasn't stopping, so we carried on for mere seconds.
I pulled back, pretending to hear someone approaching. He had... Passed the test I suppose.
I brushed the incident off, not caring to think much of how I liked his kiss. He staggered behind me, waiting for me to say something. Maybe I could pretend I had a little too much to drink? This was more embarassing than I'd predicted after all...
I just decided it was time we went home, just so there'd be Dad in the car to have a conversation with. If Mikey wanted to talk about our kiss... Well tough. He should know what it meant. He shouldn't think his lips mean more than Frank's. His mean different things.