FicWad

It was the end of the day, right after the final bell had rung, and a sea of people crowded the halls. Mikey hated the halls, hated the way everyone bumped up against each other. It was claustrophobic and hot and sweaty. Chaos at its worst. Mikey wove his way around all the other students, keeping a look out for Frank's red jacket. He saw the boy leaning over a water fountain, once again leaving a piece of skin right above the waist of his jeans visible. Mikey stood next to him and waited to be noticed.

Frank saw from the corner of his eye the mass of black he knew to be Mikey. He raised up fully and wiped his mouth on Mikey's sleeve. "Oh, hello there my goth napkin. How was your day?" Frank asked. He delighted in the laugh he got from Mikey.

"Just fine, Frank. By the way, I have upgraded you to ultra-dork," he said. Frank scoffed and bent down to pick his bag from where he'd deposited it. As he was down there, he noticed a long chain hanging from Mikey's pants. He pulled on the chain but got his hands batted away, "C'mon, Frank. Are you ready to go?"

"Yup!" Frank jumped to his feet. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowds to get to the door, with Mikey following closely behind. They let out identical sighs of relief when they reached the parking lot. Frank felt his excitement increase when he recognized Mikey's black car, and bolted for it. He reached out his arm to pull the door handle. He jerked back, but nothing happened.

"Mikey!" he whimpered, trying again to open the door. Mikey sighed and pushed Frank away from the door gently. He got his keys out to unlock the door. He opened it and went around to the driver's side and got in. "Y'know, this doesn't make you smarter than me, Mikey. It just means you're better with cars. But you're not supposed to know shit about cars, so you are ruining the stereotype!"

Mikey rolled his eyes at Frank's outburst. He'd been like this all day, talking non-stop even if Mikey didn't say anything. He had the ability to have conversations with himself. A skill he showed off when he realized, once again, that Mikey didn't want to talk. He waited until Mikey had already started up the car and they were on the road before speaking, just in case Mikey felt the need to leave his ass at school.

"Ah, the sky. Radio, my dear, do you like the sky? You see, Mikey doesn't wanna talk because the aliens have scrambled his brain, but you'll talk to me, right? Right? Yeah, well fuck you too!" Frank crossed his arms and glared at the radio. It was playing a song he didn't know, and that was just another strike against it. He pushed one of the buttons on the radio, the one he knew skipped channels, until he found a song worth listening to. The Unwinding Cable Car by Anberlin. Mikey smiled at the song choice. It was secretly one of his favorites. Hey, it was fucking beautiful, and Mikey didn't have to listen to metal like everyone seems to believe.

"Don't you believe that you've been deceived, that you're no better than...the hair in your eyes, it never disguised what you're really thinking of," Frank sang softly. He looked over over at Mikey and wanted to push the black bangs covering his eyes to the side. But he'd probably get pushed away...not to mention that Mikey was trying to drive. So he kept on singing to himself. "This is the correlation of salvation and love. Don't drop your arms. I'll guard you're heart with quiet words I'll lead you in. You're so brilliant. Don't soon forget. You're so brilliant. Grace marked your heart." Frank sighed and laid his head back on the headrest. This song must have been written specifically for Mikey. How else could it be so perfect, so fucking true? He glanced up at Mikey and saw him mouthing the words.

"You like this song too?" Frank asked, raising his eyebrows. Mikey nodded, and that was it. That's all the communication Frank got for the rest of the way to Belleville, an occasional nod. He didn't get it, was Mikey unhappy? How can Frank fix it?

Mikey was still disturbed by the way he was starting to think about Frank. When he'd heard Frank sing, although softly and to himself, it was lovely. He was entranced with the slightly low timbre of his voice. He could almost feel Frank's vocal chords throughout the car, bouncing off the window shield and bathing Mikey in warmth that made him shiver. If he could speak (which he couldn't, he was utterly blown away), he probably would have blurted out that Frank was beautiful.

*

"Wow...your room is...like a vampire's!" Frank exclaimed, clearly in awe as he stood in the center of Mikey's room. It was...plain but extravagant. Yes, that is a contradiction upon itself, but Mikey's room was a sight to be held. The walls were hospital waiting-room white with the occasional splash of (what he hoped) was red paint meant to look like blood. Towards the top of the wall, black paint had been allowed to drip down, making it look like the ceiling was melting. The plush carpet was thick and red and just begged to be laid on. The bed was just a mattress and a box board with a black comforter and pillows. There really wasn't much furniture except for a book case full of comics, a stand with a radio on it, and a vanity. Oh, how the vanity drew Frank's fascinated attention!

It had a huge mirror with circular lights on either side of it. Either the lights were turned off or didn't work, because no light was emanating from them. It was romantic, almost like a movie star vanity, if not for the contents strewn out on the table top. Eyeliner in three different colors-red, purple, and black- white face powder, black lipstick, and a hair straightener.

Frank moved to the wall behind the vanity. Tons of drawings were taped on the wall, and all of them were horrifying but beautifully done. In the bottom right corner was a signature. Gerard Way was written in scribbly script with a little bat drawn underneath it.

"Wow. Is Gerard your brother?" Frank asked, simply guessing because of the last name. Mikey nodded, slightly disappointed that Frank seemed so impressed with Gerard. "He's quite good. Hm...you know what? Your room is amazing. I think I'll live here from now on," Frank said. He put his hands on his hips and spun around to get one more look about the room. Once he was sufficiently overloaded with the aesthetics of the room, he turned to Mikey and hugged him. He thought it might help with his sudden bout of anti-social behavior.

"What's wrong, Mikey?" Frank asked. He laid his head on Mikey's chest, right over his heart as he waited for an answer. He already knew what it was going to be. He knew he was being a little too clingy today, and that Mikey didn't like that. But he couldn't help it. Mikey needed to be cuddled, even if he detests it.

"Nothing, I'm fine," came Mikey's answer. Frank nodded, but didn't care so much about the answer as how delightful his vocal chords felt. It was almost like Mikey wasn't human, because all the most minuscule things amazed Frank. It was too amazing. He couldn't be made of the same organs as Frank. No way.

"Oh, okay. Hey, Mikey..." Frank started. He'd just had a thought. Maybe part of the wonder of Mikey the goth thing. What if being goth makes you more beautiful than humanly possible, it elevates you to a higher plane entirely? "Can I be goth too?"

"...What?" Mikey asked blankly. Surely, please god, he'd heard wrong. Frank didn't want to disrupt his innocent beauty to become goth! He couldn't! Mikey only used it as a last resort to escape the beatings, but everyone loves Frank...wait. If everyone turns their back on Frank, he'll be all Mikey's...

"No, Frank. You're too cute to be goth. Aren't you happy the way you are?"

"Yes. But I want to see how it feels, just for today. Please, Mikey? I've always been the cute one, the baby. Just once, I want people to...fear me, or look me in disgust. I want to matter."

You do matter... "Look in my closet for something to wear, then. Just pick through things, I don't know what's all in there. Most of it is Gerard's stuff." Mikey instructed. Frank smiled and stepped into the small closet. In one corner was a whole pile of black clothes. One in particular stood out to Frank.

"Mikey! Look it, I wanna wear this!" Frank exclaimed, holding the questionable item against his chest. Mikey laughed. Frank was holding a black corset with purple stitching. It looked like something a stripper would wear.

"Oh yeah, wear that," Mikey said sarcastically. Frank picked up on the sarcasm, but began unzipping his jacket anyway. He shrugged it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He slid the corset on over his black tank top so it wasn't too whore-ish, and looked in the mirror. He turned from side to side, his grin getting wider as he realized how much he loved it.

Mikey gulped. Frank was...just, goddamn, he's too fucking pretty to look at directly, especially dressed in a corset. Which he fully planned on wearing! He could see it in Frank's expression. This was the outfit. Except the pants and makeup, of course. But if Mikey had to watch Frank change pants, he's going to die.

"How does it look, Mikey? I love it," Frank said, hoping for Mikey's approval.

"Yeah, I like it too. But I can't believe that's what you picked out of everything in there. I don't even know why my brother had it. Probably used it for some sick sex fantasy. He's like that."

"Is he?"

"No. He's not social. Kind of like me. But he had a purpose, his life has meaning. He doesn't need a lover, he has his art. It fills his life, and I guess he's happy with it. Personally, I haven't a clue what I want to do for a living." Mikey shrugged sheepishly. He felt a little bad about it. This was his senior year, he had no job, no plans for the future. Gerard always knew he wanted to do something artistic, but Mikey...well, unless he could get a job as a professional goth, he was fucked.

"Hm..you know what I wanna do? It's really dumb, but I want to...own a castle. It'd be nice if it floated in the sky, as well. That could be my job. I guess you could help me with the castle as well, cause I bet it gets damn lonely there. And I could raise dragons. Purple dragons with orange mohawks. Oh, wouldn't it be awesome?" Frank sighed. "Too bad none of that shit exists. Oh well. Hm, now, on with the goth-ification!" he exclaimed. He dove back into the closet, rooting around in the massive pile of black clothes until he pulled out his next questionable items. He slipped black, elbow-high, fingerless gloves on his arms. He wiggled his fingers around, testing how comfortable they were. He stepped in front of the vanity again and held out his arms.

Frank looked over to Mikey, waiting to see his reaction. Did he like it, or was it just a little too burlesque for his tastes? Frank liked the look, personally. It was romantic, like the vanity. Mikey nodded appreciatively and looked at the gloves. He ran a hand delicately down the fabric. The touch sent shivers down Frank's back. Just the thought that Mikey did that voluntarily, that he was comfortable enough to touch Frank thrilled him.

"Hm..this works, Frank. I don't know how, but it does. I like it," Mikey said. He smiled at the way Frank just perked up after the statement. He jumped up and hugged Mikey. His shoes barely scraped the floor when they hugged since Mikey was basically holding Frank because of the height difference. He sat Frank down on his bed and grabbed his makeup off the vanity.

Frank got jittery, This is what he was waiting for, the makeup. He wanted his face to be flawless, for his eyes to be rimmed in black just like Mikey's. Mikey put his hand under Frank's chin and tilted his face up, discerning what the best way to go about this would be. He couldn't simply go all around Frank's eyes in black. His eyelids were too heavy for that. He held up the three sticks of eyeliner he held. Hm...purple, maybe. It would go well with Frank's eyes, at least.

"Aw, I don't get black?" Frank pouted.

"Nope. Now close your eyes," Mikey commanded. Frank's eyes fluttered closed and at once he felt the cool tip of the eyeliner. He wasn't thrilled about the purple, but he trusted Mikey.

Mikey bit down on his lip in concentration and got to work outlining Frank's eyes in purple. Once he had a thick coat all the way around, he began coloring in his eyelids. After that, Mikey branched lines out from the corners of his eyes. Satisfied with the cat eyes he'd made, Mikey picked up his white face powder and lightly dusted it over Frank's face. It was a shame to cover up the rich olive color of his skin, or the beautiful dark pink tint of his lips, but Mikey did it. Then he stepped back and examined Frank.

He was still so beautiful. The makeup didn't cover the strong line of his jaw or the fullness of his bottom lip.

"Okay, open your eyes now, Frank," Mikey instructed. Frank went over to the vanity and looked at himself. He gasped.

"Wow...Mikey, you're really good at this. Maybe you should be a makeup artist..." Frank said. He turned his head from side to side. He still wanted a little black. He picked up the black lipstick. "I want to use this too." He held the tube out to Mikey, because he knew he'd end up messing up if he tried to put it on himself.

*

Frank and Mikey walked down the street in town fully gothed out and extracting tons of stares, Their hands were linked together and swinging between their bodies. Right now they were just wandering around Belleville, talking about nothing like usual. They had a way of doing that, talking about video games or books that they liked, never really getting into the personal shit. It was just easier that way.

People passing them on the street thought the two looked like a fucked up couple. Gay and goth, that was two strikes against them. Though Frank did look quite feminine at the moment with the way he was practically clinging to Mikey's arm as they walked, sneaking loving little glances when he could. As much as he hated to admit it, this whole 'love' business was completely one-sided and he knew it. Sometimes he wondered if he should have dated Bob, just to feel love from someone. Because with Mikey, he was giving all of his concern, love, and protection and basically getting nothing back. It was scary knowing there was no one to hold him, give him kisses and assure him that life will be okay when he can't take it. Which does happen a lot. Frank has tons of breakdowns because he's just a billion different emotions trying to exist peacefully in one small human body. He feels things so strongly. When he's sad, the whole world loses its luster and feels like it will never get any better, it's just a series of movements without purpose. When he's happy, it's in an exuberant and over bearing way that spills out on to those around him, showering them with affection. And, perhaps worst of all, he falls so quickly and pathetically in love that it ends up disastrous. He pours extensive attention-maybe to the point of being over-protective and smothering--to whoever has managed to grab his attention.

But with Mikey, it was despairingly different. Frank was forced to cut down on the cuddling, the flirting, even the simple touching, because Mikey was anti-social. That was okay, though. Frank was content with this. Just walking down the street holding hands with Mikey. It was such an innocently couple thing to do and the lack of real physical contact made Frank appreciate just being in Mikey's presence.

Frank was lost in his thoughts, so was thoroughly startled when he heard Mikey speak.

"Hey, Frank, do you want to stop here and get something to eat?" Mikey asked, pointing across the street to a Sonic, which must have been their official fast food place. But Frank appreciated the stability of it, now that he was unprotected. He nodded, and pulled Mikey across the road.

*

"Aw, come on, Frank, don't turn all angsty and goth like me." Mikey poked Frank in the arm hesitantly after saying that. They were sitting on one of the benches that Sonic had conveniently placed outside for those unfortunate souls who didn't have a car. It would have been a nice place to people watch if Mikey didn't have reservations about that very thing. He didn't like to watch people because it seemed an invasion of privacy to him, not to mention that he didn't find people all that interesting. Just Frank. And, gasp, Frank had barely said two words the whole ten minutes they had been there, absent-mindedly nibbling on some of the french fries in Mikey's plate. His own chicken sandwich was left untouched in his plate.

"Hm?" Frank mumbled. He'd fallen into a stupor some time back, once again surprised by Mikey's voice when it rang out among the usual unimportant sounds of birds, cars, and people yelling their orders into the boxes. He looked up at Mikey, who seemed to be studying him intently. Almost worriedly. His eyebrows were scrunched up in the middle of his forehead and his mouth was sealed tightly. Frank could tell he was biting the inside of his jaw. The last thing Frank wanted was for Mikey to be worried about him. "Sorry, I just got caught into one of those long stares where you're not really looking at anything. It was pretty interesting, if I do say so myself. That leaf changed colors," Frank said, pointing to a random leaf that caught his eye. He nodded when Mikey looked to where he was pointing, then back at him.

"Okay. For a moment I thought the goth-ness had taken you over," Mikey said, being completely serious but playing it off as a joke. He sighed and looked down at the table they were sitting at. This whole experiment--the goth-ification of Frank--was making him on edge. It had worked too well. The clothes and makeup looked natural on Frank. He was stunning in the burlesque and dark attire, and Mikey didn't like it. He didn't want Frank to be goth. He's supposed to be that little ball of sunshine in Mikey's life, while he is the downer, the broken one. If Frank breaks...he doesn't know how to fix him.

Frank didn't want that silence to go on, not when he knew Mikey was worried. He tried to strike up a conversation, so he said, "Mikey, do you read manga?"

Mikey smiled slightly and nodded. "Ch, they are my one true love. I like Trigun, Dragon Ball, DBZ, Yu Yu Hakusho, G Gundam, and Zoids," he said, holding up a finger for each one he named off. Sometimes he took pride in being a nerd, like right now. He loved manga, there was no way to hide it. Frank noticed that this was a topic that Mikey could get excited about, so that meant they could actually have a conversation for once instead of Frank doing all the talking while Mikey nodded when he needed to.

"I like Loveless and Chibi Vampire," Frank said proudly, knowing he was about to get shit for it. At least, he always got shit from Bob and Ray for it, since they were the kind of mangas one could find in Shojo Beat!, which was the feminine version of Shonen Jump.

"Hmmm...Loveless..." Mikey broke out in a little grin. Of course Frank would like the cute mangas. He was cute. "I'm not surprised, really." He shifted a little in his seat, resting his chin in his hand. Frank picked up one of Mikey's french fries and flicked it at him.

"Grr, what's that supposed to mean? I have excellent taste in manga, thank you very much, Michael," he said indignantly, using Mikey's full name because he knew it would annoy him. He found that now he and Mikey were talking, his appetite had returned in full. He picked up the chicken sandwich from his plate and greedily went to devouring it. "Mmmm....hey Mikey.." he began with a mouth full of food.

"Frank, chew your food or you'll choke." Mikey assumed the protective role, which made Frank re-think his previous theories about their friendship. Mikey cared enough to make sure that Frank didn't choke. The very thought made him smile, that Mikey cares a little bit about him. He still wondered how it got to this point, how he lost his two best friends but gained...something more. Someone who he needs and who needs him back, otherwise they would both be alone in the world. He'd never really been in a give/take relationship like this before. It took a lot of careful thinking, unfortunately, because he had to worry whether he was being too cuddly, whether Mikey was happy, and all these other thoughts that threatened to annihilate his over-used brain.

When Frank had chewed his food, leaving no remnants of his chicken sandwich, he opened his mouth to show Mikey. Mikey wrinkled his nose in a way that Frank found cute. "There. Now, as I was saying, if I get a Sonic Blast, will you help me eat it? Of course, if you don't I'll force-feed you anyway, but I thought I'd be nice and ask." He grabbed another french fry and hit Mikey's shoulder with it. When Mikey narrowed his eyes in a weak attempt to look angry with Frank--something that was impossible, really--Frank offered him a sweet smile.

Only Frank could look so perfectly innocent, so untouched by all the evil things that inhabit this earth, while sitting there in complete black and slightly provocative clothes with his face painted stark white and dark purple. His hands were clasped loosely in front of his face in a prayer-like stance with his chin resting on his knuckles. That sweet little smile remained on his black lips even after Mikey's scowl disappeared. Without it, he had a completely blank face. Like a mask, Frank noted. It's like his face was coated in porcelain to keep its eerily beautiful flawlessness.

"Well....I'm gonna go get a Sonic Blast. Which kind do you think I should get? How 'bout Reese's? Those are good, right?" Frank asked. He pushed himself to his feet even as he was speaking. Mikey nodded, not really interested in what kind of ice cream Frank got. That wasn't the important part anyway. He watched Frank get up and prance over to the order box a few feet away, smiling slightly at his behavior. Frank poked the button in an overly childish way, and when the voice came over the speaker asking what he wanted, he put his chin in his hands and made a 'hmmm' sound. Like he hadn't just two seconds ago decided what he wanted.

"Um...well, which is better, M&Ms or Reese's?" Frank asked the box. At least it wasn't as bad as when he tries to talk to Mikey's radio. He gave a little squeak of excitement when the box answered.

"Well, personally I like the Reese's, but it's up to you sir."

Frank nodded. "Okay. I want a Reese's Sonic Blast, then please. Wait...how'd you know I was a boy? Can you see me?"

Mikey began to crack up. Frank obviously didn't get the fact that he had a rather deep voice, or maybe he just underestimated everyone's ability to hear. Frank cocked an eyebrow back at Mikey, who was bent over the table trying to control his laughter. It felt like he was going to go into one of his fits of insane laughter over something that wasn't that funny.

"Hey, don't laugh at me, Mikey! You arse..." Frank let go of the button to hurtle himself at his friend, which ended with both of them sprawled out on the hard concrete of the sitting area. Frank threw his arms triumphantly in the air at his thrilling ability to take down someone a foot taller than him. Okay, not really a foot, but he likes to exaggerate to make himself feel important. (And it works brilliantly). "Yeah, teach you to laugh at me," Frank muttered menacingly, but his thunder was taken away by the fact that Mikey's frail body was still trembling with his silent laughter. "Hey," he protested, his fingers wrapping around Mikey's wrists.

Mikey looked up at Frank, who was trying to pin him down, and gave him a cheesy grin. "You impossible little dork!"

Frank wrinkled his nose. "Oh, now he talks. And it's only to call me a dork. You're mean. Maybe I won't share my ice cream with you, and you'll starve!" Frank exclaimed, finally able to slam Mikey's wrists down on the ground above his head. He gave a cry of triumph. "Booyah, Mikey, I'm stronger than you!"

Mikey smirked underneath him, and in the blink of an eye their positions switched. Frank was squirming under Mikey's firm hold.

"Oh! Stronger than mwah! Pft, obviously," Mikey said, chock full of sarcasm. He was exuding confidence at successfully flipping Frank until reality came flooding back to him and he realised, gasp, he was on top of Frank! It as times like this he adored the white face powder that successfully masked his pint-tinted cheeks.

He slid off of Frank's body and stood up, absent-mindedly brushing off his clothes to hide his nerves. Frank was undoubtedly disappointed when Mikey stood up. He took the hand Mikey extended to help him up, and decided to make a joke to play off how much he missed the body weight (all 90 pounds) that his friend crushed him with.

"Pft, dude, we would pwn at robo-fighting."

"Robo what?" What the hell did that have to do with anything? Sure, Mikey was obsessed with robots, but still...

"It's a sport where all you have to do is sit on your lazy bum and play with a controller. And since I'm obviously a dork, and you wold break if you played a real sport, we'd be good at robo-fighting. Duh Mikey. Geez, I thought you were supposed to be smart," Frank said, shaking his head sadly.