Anticipation, coffee shop prejudice, and cliffhanger endings.
When I woke up, I was alone. I rolled over to face the empty side of the bed, feeling a little disappointed. Maybe the whole thing was just some kind of sick dream. But I remembered the feel of his hand on my waist, and his warm breath against my neck, and I really hoped it wasn’t.
I sat up. Mikey’s bed was empty, too. It was barely ten o’clock.
Who the hell gets up early on a Saturday morning?
I shuffled off to the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. I'm a zombie before I get my morning dose of caffeine. Once I felt halfway human again, I put on a black-and-white striped shirt, a ragged sweater and my favorite jeans, and attempted to tame my raging bedhead in front of the mirror. After a minute, there was a quiet knock at the door.
“Come in,” I called. The door opened and Gerard poked his head in.
“Morning, sunshine,” he smiled sleepily. “Mind if I brush my teeth?”
“Sure. I mean, not at all. I don’t mind. You know what I mean,” I managed, feeling like a complete idiot.
But he didn’t laugh at me, he just padded over to the sink and started brushing his teeth.
“Thanks,” he said indistinctly, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. I watched him rinse out his mouth and stare at his reflection, wincing at the dark circles under his hazel eyes. He caught me looking and grinned.
“Your hair,” he said, “it looks like an animal.”
I bit my lip.
“No, no, I like it,” he reassured me quickly. “It looks good on you.”
I burst out laughing. “It looks like chaos theory at work, you mean.”
He raised his eyebrows at me. “D’you want me to fix it for you?”
Before I could manage an ‘okay’, he dried off his hands and stood behind me. “Hold still,” he murmured thoughtfully. I could feel his fingers brushing through my hair, fiddling with the brown-black strands. I shut my eyes and tried to breathe.
“Your hair’s so soft,” he marveled.
“It’s the mayonnaise,” I quipped automatically, blushing at the compliment. “And thanks. H-how was the movie last night?”
“Gory. Bob cried like a little girl whenever someone got their guts ripped out. I just sat there, laughing – I think I scared him.” When I cracked open one eye, he'd gotten ahold of some gel and was running a hand through my bangs, frowning as he experimented. I tried not to laugh at his ridiculously intense expression.
“It’s all the magic of Hollywood, anyway. Special effects, and makeup, and stuff like that. None of it's real.”
“It’s called ‘acting’ for a reason.” Gerard rolled his eyes affectionately, giving my hair one last ruffle. “Okay, you’re good.”
I checked myself out in the mirror. My hair no longer defied gravity against all odds; he’d done something to it so it looked all messy and cool. I shook my head and it hung in my eyes. “I could get used to this.”
“Come on,” he said, beckoning me down the hall. “Mikey’s probably annihilating the kitchen as we speak.”
Gerard folded his arms and leaned back against the counter, surveying the breakfast his brother had cooked. Plates of steaming French toast, scrambled eggs and fruit salad, orange juice, cereal, and best of all, a great big pot of coffee. “Quite the Iron Chef, aren’t we?” he smirked.
“Mikey, this looks amazing!”
“Thanks,” he grinned. “Living with Gee, I learned how to cook real fast. We make dinner based on what in the fridge is about to expire.”
“Oh shut up, I feed you.”
“Sometimes.” He laughed. “Enough talking about food. Let’s eat, I’m starving.”
We all sat down and dug in. Gerard poured the coffee and I gratefully accepted my mug, stirring in some milk. Mikey drowned his in sugar, while Gerard chugged down three cups, straight black.
“How can you do that?” I asked in amazement. He shrugged.
“Cast-iron stomach. I never get food poisoning or anything.”
“But you sound like a waterbed,” Mikey said. “Seriously, I can hear you sloshing around when you walk up to me.”
“Lemme know when they start making intravenous coffee, Mikes. I'd be happy to make the switch for you.”
We ate for a little while in contented silence. I watched Mikey dunk his French toast in syrup, and smiled. The sun streamed in through the windows.
“Frankie, I think we should go out sometime,” Gerard said conversationally. I choked on my Coco Puffs. Mikey lunged over and slapped me on the back until I could breathe again.
“What!?” I spluttered.
“You know, like on a date. Just you and me,” he continued, unfazed. “No offense, Mikes.”
“None taken.” Mikey grinned at me.
“Um, I don’t know, Gerard…”
“Come on.” He grinned. “Nothing fancy, I promise. You don’t have to get dressed up for me, you know that. We could – I don’t know – go for a walk in the park, get some coffee. I could show you around Fair Haven. Shit, you don’t even know where the record store is.”
“That sounds…really nice.” I smiled, feeling warm and happy. Nothing else mattered but his big hazel eyes, and his perfect lips. He brushed his hair out of his face and gazed back at me.
“Guys,” Mikey said, aggravated, “I’m right here. Y’know, normal people try to hide their personal lives from their brothers, not spell it out in neon letters.”
“Whoops, sorry,” Gerard giggled. “I mean, we share everything else, Mikes. And besides, when have we ever been normal?”
“Today’s Saturday, yes?” Gerard looked at me. “Shall we go out on Sunday?”
“Pick you up at four.” He smiled.
“What time is it?” Mikey asked idly. After we cleaned up breakfast and left Gerard to do the dishes (he’d insisted), we headed into the living room to catch up on our favorite cartoons. I looked away from the TV and checked my watch.
I glanced over at him.
“You sure?” he asked. I nodded. “Gerard!” he yelled.
A loud clatter and a string of muffled curses emanated from the kitchen. A moment later he appeared in the doorway, drying his hands on the front of his flowery apron. “What?” he growled.
“It’s almost noon, mom and dad are gonna be home soon,” Mikey said, none too calmly.
“Shit.” Gerard frowned. “Frankie, I’m sorry, but you gotta go home now.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing, except they don’t really like it when we have people over when they’re not home. They think we throw wild drug parties.” He looked at me pleadingly. I didn’t know if he was telling the truth, but I nodded anyway and went upstairs to pack my bag.
I came downstairs to find them tidying up frantically. Gerard walked me to the door and we stood outside on the porch in the sunshine. He put his hand on my shoulder.
“Hey,” he said gently. “Sorry about this whole arrangement; you know we’d love to have you again, anytime. Our parents just like to spend a little family time together, when they can’t see us during the week, you know? But I’ll be thinking about you.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before leaning in a little closer. “I know we didn’t get a chance to talk about what happened last night,” he breathed, “but we will, believe me.”
I stared at him. “You meant it? I wasn’t dreaming?”
“No,” he said. “And I meant every word.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him. I rested my cheek against his chest and breathed in the familiar smell of peppermint and cigarettes. His hair tickled my forehead, and we held onto each other for a moment too long. “See you tomorrow,” he grinned, running his thumb over my cheekbone. “You know how to get home?”
“Yeah. Bye, Gee.”
He waved until I was out of sight.
The doorbell rang at exactly four on Sunday. I was still in my room, hopping around on one foot while I desperately searched for my other sneaker. I dashed to the window and stuck my head out, flailing my arms until I caught his attention. Gerard blinked up at me, shielding his eyes against the sun.
“Hi,” I called, “hang on a sec, I can’t find my shoe.”
“It’s all right,” he shouted back. “Stop hyperventilating, Frank.”
My head was pounding, he was right. I finally found my matching high-top under a pile of random clothes, laced it up in record time, and sprinted down the stairs. Thank god my mom was at work, she would’ve been surprised to see me zipping by like a bat out of hell. I yanked the door open and just stood there for a minute, staring at him.
Gerard looked gorgeous in a black button-down shirt, tight jeans and a battered motorcycle jacket. He shook his hair out of his eyes and grinned brightly. “Frankie,” he said warmly, “you look amazing.”
I glanced down at my skinny jeans, band shirt and baggy hoodie, wondering if we were both looking at the same person. “I do?”
“Of course, you idiot. Cross my heart and hope to die. Do I need to swear a blood oath, or do you believe me?”
“I believe you.” I grinned and hugged him tightly. I could feel his hands on the small of my back, his skin warm through my shirt. I felt like I was going to explode.
Is this really happening?
“I missed you,” he laughed.
We walked through Fair Haven for a while, Gerard making good on his promise to show me the record store. We scanned the shelves for anything good; I found a Stooges reissue I’d been dying to have, and found him in the M aisle, the newest Misfits cd in his hand.
“I’ve got that one,” I said without thinking. “It’s great. I can lend it to you, if you want.”
“Awesome,” he smiled. When we went to get rung up, he grabbed my cd from me and paid for it, ignoring my protests. “Frankie,” he said, turning to me as we left the store, “if you’re lending me a cd, it’s the least I could do. No complaining, okay? You can even pay for my coffee if you want to, even though I asked you out.”
“You better order the biggest mocha-frap-whipped cream thing either of us has ever seen.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Who the hell drinks those things, anyway?” he laughed. “Can I get a cappuccino, is that acceptable?”
“If it’s absolutely massive.”
People looked at us weirdly in the coffee shop. From a distance, Gee’s skin seemed to glow against the dark of his clothes. Everything about him was sparkly and shiny and gorgeous. When he put his arm around my shoulders, I could almost feel it rubbing off on me. The air seemed clearer around him.
We got our drinks; Gerard looked around for the first time and seemed to register that we couldn’t talk in private here. An old lady was positively glaring at us.
“So much for the progressive worldview,” he muttered.
I looked right back at the lady. “He’s my brother, you sicko,” I spat as we walked out.
He laughed. “You wanna really freak her out?”
“Yeah, I hate people like that.”
He took my hand and pulled me right in front of the window. “Don’t spill your coffee,” he whispered, stepping in so we were toe-to-toe. He tipped my head back, his hand on my neck, and kissed me. His warm, soft lips ignited sparks deep in my chest; I gasped into his open mouth as my fingers wound their way into his black hair. The hand that cupped my face was incredibly gentle. I let myself lean into him, kissing him back, basking in the heat. It took a while for me to come to my senses and realize I was kissing Gerard Way in a public place, and that probably wasn’t a good idea.
“Let ‘em stare,” he laughed breathlessly. “Damn, Frankie, my heart’s about to explode. Where’d you learn to kiss like that?”
We both looked over to the door of the coffee shop as the old lady stomped out. Gee flipped her off with the hand that wasn’t clutching his coffee cup, sticking out his pink tongue at her. “Like hell we’re brothers,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Even if we were related, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
“That’s called incest, Gerard, and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal.” I took a great big gulp of coffee and burned my tongue. He blew gently on his before taking a cautious sip.
“Illegal things are so much fun, though.” He winked.
We walked through the old part of town towards the main square, where there was a park and a playground. I could feel him next to me, emanating calm, like a warm summer breeze against my face. His eyes were alight, and he smiled even more often than usual. When we got to the park, it was abandoned. The sun was hidden behind masses of gray clouds, and the air was chilly. He leaned back against a tree, stretching out his arms and pulling me in closer. I could see his breath in the air until I kissed him, closing my eyes and grazing his bottom lip with my teeth. He moaned softly and pressed his hips up against mine. I caught my breath, felt my heart skipping beats at the welcome friction.
“I’m so happy,” I said wonderingly as I touched his chest. “I don’t remember feeling this way, not for a long time.”
He let out a long, shuddering breath. “Frankie…”
So I was planning to write this on New Year’s, but I was distracted by MCR performing at Rockefeller Center (omg!). Much dancing and screaming ensued, and then school started. Long story short, my fanfic was the last thing on my mind. Sorry! I’m going to try my best to keep the posts coming thick and fast, but life gets in the way sometimes. Blame my school. So here it is, folks (finally)! Enjoy, and R & R if you want more (you guys have been great so far, you really make me want to write this)! Xo b_b