"I’ve got fruit over here and I’m not afraid to use it.” Read, review, rate and feel my love! :P
“Mikey and Pete, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Frank’s freakishly high-pitched voice trills into my ears as the two aforementioned bassists slink off for a cigarette break.
Pete shrugging off his white jacket and placing it around Mikey’s shoulder’s when he sees my baby brother shivering.
But that’s just what friends do, right? Help each other out, keep each other warm when it’s cold out. Yeah. That’s all it is, Pete thinking about someone other than himself for once. Yeah. Completely innocent because that’s what my baby brother is; innocent.
“Shut up, Iero.” I growl at my short companion, not liking the way he’s got that teasing gleam in his eyes again. The kind that means I’m about to hear exactly the kind of things I don’t want to about my poor little baby brother. “I mean it. I’ve got fruit over here and I’m not afraid to use it.”
I dig my hand into the fruit bowl and fish out an orange, tossing it menacingly up in the air as I relish his terrified expression. After what happened last time when I was armed with one of my five-a-day I think he might have finally learnt his lesson. Thank fuck.
“C’mon, Gee, you gotta face the music sooner or later.”
Or maybe not.
“I think they’re kinda cute together.” Frank smiles happily at himself, straining to look out of the window to see what the two bassists are getting up to outside and bursting into giggles at the sight. “Look, Gee, I think they’re dancing!”
I really do think that Frank has finally lost his marbles, not that he was far off of that in the first place. Firstly, the idea of Pete getting it on with my baby brother is about as far from cute as his Waycest prank was from funny. Anything involving that arrogant douche bag is evil, twisted and sick; definitely not cute. Secondly, Mikey doesn’t dance, even on stage he refuses to, so the idea of him dancing with Pete? Impossible.
And I’m not going to look out of the window because that’s what Frankie wants so then he can just yell “I made you look!” like the joker that he is.
“Ha-ha, Frankie, very funny.” I roll my eyes at him sarcastically, letting him know that I’m not falling for another one of his tricks. “Now stop staring at my little brother.”
He turns away from the window with a dissatisfied groan, arms crossed across his chest like a grouchy toddler and the pout to match. Before we feel a bang that makes the whole bus shake and Frankie shoot back to the window, eyes wide and a beam spreading across his face like wild fire.
“Jesus, Gee! They’re going at it against the bus!” He laughs, leaning right up close to get a better look at whatever it is he’s going on about now. “Wow. Never expected that from Mikey. I guess he’s your brother alright.”
The pure shock in his smirking voice makes me want to look, to see if there’s any shred of truth in his words; he’s convincing, I’ll give him that. But only for a second, because I can spot exactly when Frank’s kidding around and right now that’s precisely what he’s doing. I doubt Mikey’s ever gone at it with anyone, let alone would go at it at against the side of a bus where the likes of Frank Iero can get a free show from it.
Mikey’s practically asexual.
Or sexually oblivious anyway.
I don’t think he ever even had The Talk from our parents. That would explain why he thought condoms where some sort of sock made for light-weight luggage until he had his sex-ed class in tenth grade when the majority of his classmates were already using them themselves.
“Whatever, Frank.” I mumble tiredly as I start peeling the orange, groaning as it spits some of it’s juice right at my face and making my eyeliner run. “Grow up.”
All of a sudden he looks away from the window, just as there is a series of wall-shuddering bangs from against the outside of the bus, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Like he’s just seen some sort of monster.
Well, it’s shut him up at least.
I carry on peeling my orange, doing my best to ignore the worst of the banging that’s most likely being caused by the endless flow of stray cats that we’ve seen in the parking lot since our arrival at six o’clock this morning, only to see that Frank’s still in the same position by the time I’ve managed to liberate the first segment of my juicy fruit.
It’s kind of unnerving actually, the way he’s just staring blindly into space as though he’s just looked into the depths of hell and only just survived to tell the tale.
“Frank? You okay, Buddy?” I call out to him, receiving nothing but a shudder in response. “Frankie, what’s wrong?”
“Your brother and Pete have serious problems, Gerard. I’m surprised Mikey can still walk.” His voice is toneless, his eyes as haunted as his words are confusing. “I’ll never look at Mikey the same way again.”
I just raise an eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he’s going on about now, when none other than my brother walks in with Pete right by his side like some sort of guard dog with a huge smirk on his smug-looking face. Their hair is all messed up, sticking up every which way as though someone’s been pulling at it. Apart from the only two people out there were Mikey and Pete themselves.
I guess it must be really windy outside.
“Hey, what’s wrong with Frank?” Mikey asks innocently, just like the concerned best friend that he is, gesturing towards the shaking mess of guitarist who can’t tear his disbelieving eyes away from the pair.
I just shrug.
Frank jumps to his feet all of a sudden and heads for the bathroom as though the ground is burning up beneath him.
“Where’re you going?”
“To find some soap. I need to wash my eyes.”
A/N: Thanks for reading, this is my (failed) attempt at being humorous. Please let me know what you think/how to improve! :)