Gabe's tutoring Mikey, but what is he really teaching him? Short GABEKEY one-shot. Read, review, rate and feel my love! :P
“Repeat after me, Muñequita.” Intent nod. “Okay; yo soy tu puta sucia.”
“Yo soy tu puta sucia?”
“Close, Muñequita. But it’s a kinda ‘swue’ sound on sucia. Swue-cee-a.” I gesture to my tongue, sticking it out and rolling it for no other reason than enjoying the way it practically makes Mikey salivate. “Try again; yo soy tu puta sucia.”
He nods, eyes aglow with the kind of adorable determination that makes me think twice about contaminating his sweet innocence with everything about myself.
The poor thing really has no idea about what he’s saying.
“Yo soy tu puta sucia.”
“With conviction, Muñequita. Convince me you mean it!” I demand, a smirk dancing onto my face as he floods with a desperate want to do whatever it takes to please me. “Go!”
“Yo soy tu puta sucia!” He barks obediently, beam threatening to explode clean off his face when I give him the thumbs up; he really is coming on in leaps and bounds with this whole learning-Spanish-thing. “Uh, what am I actually saying, Gabanti?”
I clap an arm around his bony shoulder, pulling my Muñequita in close and nuzzling my nose into his tropical-scented hair. Hair that I frequently get to run my fingers ravenously through in order to glue it’s owner’s face onto my own.
He’s just like a little dolly, hence my nickname for him, and I don’t think I could have found a better kid to settle down with. You see, it’s a Friday night. The time of week when I used to go out getting high/laid/drunk/all of the above, but instead I’m tutoring him for his Spanish test next week and he’s helping me get my head around Pythagoras.
Of course, the getting laid part of my old Friday routine remains the same. Even if he isn’t strictly legal yet.
“You, Mikey Way, just introduced yourself in Spanish.” He looks at me, puzzlement gripping his pretty little face. “A rough translation is; I am your dirty whore.”
He rolls his eyes, trying his hardest not to laugh because he knows it’s true, and punches my shoulder lightly. Mikey shuffles down the king-sized bed, where we hold our little nightly tutoring sessions, pieces of school work falling over the edge in his wake of mock-huffiness.
“Ouch, Muñequita. That hurt.”
Mikey snorts, moving to nestle his head back into my chest just as quickly as it had gone away; he’s just too cute.
“”Don’t be silly, Gabanti. It was only a tap.” He giggles, a touch of tiredness filtering into his tone as he pulls his skinny little legs up into him. “Drama queen.”
“I meant my ego.” I sigh, forcing every bad memory I have to the forefront of my mind so that I can make this as convincing as possible, even if he does know I could never get mad at my little dolly. “And I thought you loved me, Muñequita, I thought you were my dirty little whore.”
He blinks up at me, torn between bursting into the uncontrollable fits of laughter that only I know how to bring on, even when he has a rough day, or actually feeling real, tangible guilt. Because, contrary to how he might seem when it’s just the two of us, Mikey’s actually extremely shy. Introverted, even. To the point where he has the tendency to be ever-so-slightly clingy when he’s around me because, understandably, he’s scared of me leaving him. Something that makes me want to cry and tear my heart apart so that it can’t break, but at the same time is agonizingly logical.
So logical, in fact, that it can be explained in one word; bullies.
Mikey Way, my Muñequita, is horribly bullied at school. To the point where, most mornings, he point-blank refuses to go. Unless I swing around his house first thing and give him a lift in my clapped out old Peugeot. Saying that though, most mornings I refuse to charm him into it anymore, as per Gerard’s request; I refuse to take him if I know that it’ll only upset him in the long run. Besides, it’s not like his grades are suffering from this. He can still teach me, a guy three years older than him, everything I need to know about algebra. And, in return, I keep him up to date with his Spanish work. Of course I defend him at school, fiercely so, to the point where only the truly stupid bastards dare to hurt him, but it just isn’t enough.
He still hears what they say about him. About his glasses. About his girly figure. About his eyeliner. About his taste in music. About his intelligence. About his quietness.
About everything that makes my Muñequita so wonderful and unique and mine. And it makes me sick that it’s still playing on his fractious little mind right now, when he should have enough sense in him to know that I’m just playing with him.
But then again, I should have had enough sense in me not to joke about something like him being mine; the one thing that gives him the strength to get up in the mornings.
Way to go, retrasar.
“Hey, Muñequita, I was only messing with ya.” I coo down to him, tickling my fingers up under his shirt and rubbing them over his ribs, kneading out the tension knotting in them from where Gerard forced me to force Mikes into going to school today. “I know you love me,” I sigh at the sincerity of my words, at the gravity of what was meant to simply be me messing around with my boyfriend, and plant a soft kiss onto his forehead. “And I love you too. Con todo mi corazón.”
“With all of my heart.” He mumbles up after a few seconds, a small smile starting to blossom on his face. “That’s right, isn’t it?”
I slip my hands down his torso until they rest on his hips, my thumbs working small circles onto where I can feel the bone jutting out in perfect definition. A small act of praise that makes him gasp happily, the fact that my fingers are working to reach under the waistband of his baggy boxers forcing his hips to buck in anticipation of the one thing I can do to make him smile no matter what happens to him.
“Very good, Muñequita. You’re getting very good indeed.” My voice is slurred with lust by now, the fact my hands have found my favourite part of my boyfriend doing nothing to help me sound like the kind of responsible tutor he needs. “Fuck, you’re sexy when you’re speaking Spanish.”
He laughs, a honey-sweet sound that forces my hands to grab onto him in such a way that makes his laugh tumble into a moan, and throws his head back to show me his huge smile of pure delight. Good. I’m doing my job alright.
“Yo soy tu puta sucia, Gabanti.” He growls, shocking me with the conviction he puts into the words he could barely get his tongue around ten minutes ago. ““Yo soy tu puta sucia.”
A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope this was alright. Please let me know what you think! :)
Yo soy tu puta sucia – I am your dirty whore
Muñequita – Little doll
Retrasar – Retard
Con todo mi corazón. – With all of my heart