FicWad

It only takes a sentence to completely change two people.

"You know, most goth couples like this to spice up their relationship, if that's what you're into..."

The clerk at the counter held up an item made up of leather and chains. Frank's eyes grew wide as he realized just what it was. Mikey's mind was still reeling over the fact that they'd been mistaken for a couple. He didn't know whether to be offended or...what. Really, he just thought it was odd that anyone could think that Mikey was good enough for Frank, since Frank was such an obvious beauty that he needed someone gorgeous--and probably of a different gender--to be with. But as Mikey turned his attention away from the rack of spiked belts he was searching through to look at whatever the clerk was holding, he let out a little cough. What the hell did this guy think they did?

"A...um...leash?" Frank tilted his head to the side and loosened his grip on Mikey's arm. Perhaps that act of affection made people think they were a couple. They'd walked into the store, Frank latched onto Mikey's arm and talking animatedly about robot dragons with electricity breath. Even Mikey had offered a few words to this conversation that he actually seemed to enjoy. Mostly, though, he was content to listen to Frank's wild ramblings about whatever happened to pop into his mind and walk with an arm wrapped round his younger friend's shoulders. By now the touching was just for comfort, just to remind him constantly that Frank was still there. It was nice to have that luxury of knowing he had a friend who wanted to be around him.

Frank was a bit hesitant with his next few words. He didn't want to completely freak Mikey out and lose him, and his next statement threatened to do just that. He was tempted to just ignore the clerk like Mikey seemed to want to do, what with the way he was looking down at the floor in the shy way that he does when he prefers not to speak. That simple act of shyness and uncomfortable twitching did something to Frank. It was terribly endearing how Mikey was so awkward at times, how everything--down to the way he walked--belied his secret discomfort in his own skin. But it was also that very thing that broke Frank's heart, to see his friend hate himself. So Frank swallowed his apprehension and the words left his mouth somehow. He'd think, after all the blabbering that he did on a regular basis, that no words could get caught in his throat, but this was a very....different situation.

"Mikey, I think we should buy it," Frank said, grinning mischievously even though the smile glued on his lips was fake. He felt Mikey tense up beside him but didn't look up to check. He'd lose his nerve and become embarrassed if he had to see the look on Mikey's face, which he knew would be shocked. But what else did he expect? Why did they need a leash? Mikey didn't strike him as one to have hot and kinky boy sex.

Omigod, omigod, omigod, was the repetition coursing through Mikey's head, repeating itself over and over again and driving him crazy. What was Frank implying? Is he serious? No, this is going to be a joke. He'd say fine, and Frank would crack up and exclaim that he was just kidding, and why the hell would they want something like that! He was pretty sure both of them were straight. They sure as fuck weren't a couple, he knew that. Even if he did have that nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him of how fast his heart raced at the smallest sight of Frank's hips, and fuck, even his shoulders were alluring. It didn't matter if he wanted to run his hands over Frank's perfect body, he didn't want to fuck him. And certainly not when one of them was wearing a leash. That, for sure, would taint Frank's purity where noting else could. The make up, the clothes, not even being in a...well, whatever this place was, possibly a sex shop, took Frank's sweet innocence from him, but that certainly would. And Mikey wasn't up for that.

But here he was, being forced up to the counter by Frank's gentle pushes, toward the item he didn't even want to think about. Now that he was actually turned that way, he noticed that behind the clerk's counter, there was all sorts of painful-looking toys that were...not intended for good purposes. A metal pear caught his eye amongst all the other things and he started squirming in Frank's grasp until he reassured him.

"Don't worry, it's just to freak him out," Frank whispered softly into his ear. He hoped that helped Mikey out, because it was a lie at first. He didn't know why exactly he wanted the leash now, after seeing how timid Mikey got around it, but it only fueled his want even more.

After knowing that it was just a joke he was in on as well, Mikey warmed to the idea. Really, he just liked being part of something. It was like he was accepted on some basis as a human being. He finally got to be in on some stupid joke, finally wasn't the subject of one. He'd heard enough about himself, been called too many stupid names that only immature little boys come up with, like fuck-face, shit-face, or some other nasty noun followed by -face that didn't make any sense.

Before he could comprehend it all, Frank had the leash in his hands, running a finger across the leather collar tentatively. He traced the little square spikes all around, his smile getting wider. He wanted to feel the collar around his neck, the cool leather against his skin. He wanted even more for Mikey to be on the other end of the chains with the handle, leading him round the town, being completely in control for once. Frank knew he'd probably shy away from the idea, but really, he needed this. Mikey never takes initiative, he always just follows Frank around, providing input only when asked. But perhaps this little experiment will help him with his anti-social ways. Maybe if he is thrust into the spot of leader, he'll become more comfortable with himself and stop acting so robotic.

*

"I don't know about this, Frank..." Mikey fretfully picked at the handle held between his fingers. This was really too much for him to handle. There was no way he would be able to lead Frank around like some fucking dog on a leash, he was too afraid. What if he pulled too hard and choked Frank? Or, what if the collar gets stuck around his neck and he has to go through life like that? Geez, Frank knew he wouldn't be able to do this, why did he even consider it?

"Nah, it'll be fine, Mikey. All you have to do is hold that chain and walk. I'll be right beside you," Frank reassured the visibly nervous Mikey. He squeezed his arm and smiled, hoping the act would reassure him. "Just think of all the weird looks we'll get! It shall be epic. Now, help me with this." Frank handed Mikey the collar and turned around so he could put it on. This was the first test, to see if Mikey has the nerves to actually put a collar on Frank.

Mikey took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. He needed to gather his thoughts. This was terrifying for him. It made his stomach knot up into some weird-ass pattern and his heart to pound so hard he was afraid it'd jump straight up his esophagus and land on the sidewalk in a pretty vibrant red splatter, still pumping out the battery acid that now filled his veins, and staining the concrete.

With his eyes still closed, he ran a thumb along the edge of the collar and imagined the warm skin that this would soon be around. Frank's neck remained sans makeup, and was still that lovely olive shade that Mikey adored. Oh, god, he couldn't do it. If even Frank's shoulders made Mikey weak, he shuddered to think what touching his neck--his throat, the very passageway that guides air to his heart and keeps Frank living, keeps him with Mikey--would do.

He opened his eyes and immediately glanced over to the front of the store that they'd just been in. Chains 'n things. No shit, that's really what it was called. And it was a variable playground of chains, leather, and studs. He should have known better than to go in. It had the very foreboding 'step inside and get sucked into the depths of hell' feel to it.

He tore his eyes away from the sign hanging over the door and looked at Frank. Frank had stood there patiently, knowing that this was a big thing for Mikey to do. He wasn't that fond of touching people if he really didn't have to. Frank was anxious himself.. The way Mikey touched him was indescribable. It was so delicate, almost fearful, and rare. It sent shivers down his spine. He gasped when the cool leather encased his throat, Mikey's fingertips brushing lightly at the nape of his neck as he went to work lacing up the collar. Why it didn't just snap into place like a dog collar, he didn't know. Maybe it was designed so someone other than the wearer had to put it on, just to add to the intimacy of the act. But it was a sick intimacy, wasn't it? Just a sweet little moment of one lover putting the other in a collar before they fuck. cough

Mikey had to brush away a little of Frank's hair to gain access to his neck. As he threaded the stings through the metal holes in the collar, he let himself 'accidentally' make skin contact. Yes, of course it was all accidental. Why would he voluntarily do it when every touch from Frank seared his skin and fogged up his mind? No, he did not like it, thank you very much! He didn't enjoy feeling powerless, not in this way, not in control of his mind. His mind--his intelligence--was all he'd ever had. He'd always been in control, thought for himself, but now that damn lump of bloody mess nestled inside his chest was thinking for him.

Finally--despite several failed attempts due to his shaking hands--Mikey successfully secured the collar around Frank's neck and stepped back.

"There you go, Frank," he said, breathing a sigh of relief and loss. Now that he was faced with the loss of physical contact, he wondered if it was worth turning to mush with the consistency of play-doh to be able to touch his pretty skin like a normal person could. sigh Oh, how he wanted to be able to be normal right now. But he was balancing precariously on the edge of a panic attack from the hurricane of emotions that had ripped through his mind today. Just today alone, mind you! Yes, he had anticipated that Frank staying over at his house would be...quite an experience, but he didn't expect this onslaught of adoration pouring out of every crevice in his body, making him think differently of his only friend in a way that could possibly be destructive.

Frank turned back around to face Mikey, slightly saddened by the look of distress written plainly across his face. Frank knew that face. Mikey would mash his bottom and top lips together,making them look even more non-existent than they already did with all that powder he covers them up with, and his dark bushy eyebrows would disappear behind the rim of his glasses. His left hand was playing at the crease of his elbow on his right arm, lightly pinching the skin between his forefingers then releasing it. Frank wanted to teach out and still his hand, worrying that the little pinches hurt. But he realized that he was just being overprotective. So, instead, he held out the handle of the leash to Mikey. He took it hesitantly, and began to walk. Frank fell in step beside him and began racking his brain for any topic that would excite Mikey. After several long minutes filled with nothing but the sounds of their shoes scuffing on the floor and the occasional gasp from passers by, he popped off with this.

"Mmmm...Mikey? Do you play any instruments?"

"Nah. But I've always wanted to be in a band. I think being up on stage would be the best feeling in the world, to have people actually see you and care that you exist."

"Mikey," Frank said softly, moving his hand down to Mikey's free hand. "Do you still feel like no one cares? Because if you do, then obviously I'm not doing a good enough job of being your friend." He wanted to cuddle into Mikey's side like he would with Bob. He wanted to be able to stand on tip toe and kiss Mikey's cheek to make his point, that he was a huge part of Frank's life and he adored him. It hurt when he said shit like that, about how he doesn't exist to the world, when Frank tries so hard to make him feel important. All of his efforts seemed to be going to waste, and it was so fucking frustrating. It made him want to punch a wall or kick a person's ass or something.

Mikey noticed Frank's slight agitation at his words. So, against his better judgment (which was telling him to keep his fucking hands to himself), he slid his free hand out of Frank's and put it instead around his waist. Frank responded by slowly sliding his arms around Mikey's waist and leaning his head on his shoulder so they were walking and hugging all at once.

"Frank, you're a really good friend. You're my only friend, so I can't draw from experience, but you..." Mikey couldn't finish. What did he want to say? He was lost for words.

"I care, Mikey. That's all. And," Frank removed his face from where it had been pressed against Mikey's arm to stare at his face. "I don't like it when you are sad. Don't be sad."

"But I can't help it! I always feel so alone, even at school. I mean, I get to see you during 5th and lunch, but that's all, and no one else will talk to me because they're afraid I'll...mutilate them with the shards from my glasses! Ugh! Even at my last school people wouldn't talk to me! ...Did you know that you're the only friend I've ever had in my life? That's how pathetic I am, Frank." The emotion slowly ebbed out of his voice, leaving it flat and heartbroken by his years of tragedy that he was all of a sudden forced to revisit in his mind. Ah, the angst of highschool outcasts!

"You're not pathetic," Frank insisted. "You're misunderstood. And I know that if people would just pull their heads out of their asses and had an actual conversation with you, they'll love you." But they'll have to go through me first, he thought. Oh great, he was becoming a jealous boyfriend with someone who definitely doesn't want him as a boyfriend.

*

Mikey's mom, Donna, just stared at the two boys standing in her kitchen. She really never wanted Mikey to turn goth like Gerard did. It wasn't a good way for her baby boy to go. But he did seem slightly happier now, after switching schools, so she wasn't going to be anal about it. He even had a friend stay over! That never happened before, and she couldn't help feeling a little pride for him. But this was too much. That boy, Frank, looked so adorable when Mikey introduced them earlier today, so sweet and short and hyper, but now his face was covered in make up, he was wearing all black, and her son was leading him on a leash. Like a common dog, mind you!

"Um...hello. Mikey, Frank, dears, do either of you want anything to eat? I could fix some sandwiches," she offered.

"Nah, thanks Mom. We're gonna go up to my room and read comics." Mikey waved at his mom even as he was leading Frank up the stairs to his room. They spent the rest of the day and well into the night lounging around Mikey's room reading comics, then arguing about which hero was the best, forgetting the argument, then repeating the whole process at random intervals of time. It was comfortable, just two dorks hanging out, having fun and acting like they were normal. Right now, nothing--no superficial words like goth or gay--mattered. They were afforded the luxury of being equals with everyone else for a few hours.

Unfortunately, it eventually became so late that Frank began nodding off in his comfortable position laying in the crook of Mikey's arm. His eyes drooped under the thick coat of purple eyeliner and his head lolled to the side, occasionally bumping Mikey's chin. He shook his head and squinted his eyes open, his head swimming with thoughts of how enticing falling asleep beside Mikey would be.

"Mikey, I'm sleepy," he mumbled. He yawned cutely and tried to snuggle into his love interest's chest to get more comfortable, but was halted in his plans.

"Go wash off your face, Frank. I don't want you to get make up all over the bed," Mikey said, giving Frank a little push off of the bed. Frank pouted. He stood up and grabbed Mikey's hand, trying to pull him up with him.

"Come with me, Mikey..." He yawned again. Wait, aren't yawns contagious? Then why wasn't Mikey yawning as well? Pft, he was too tired to marvel at his friend right now. And Mikey was now slowly pushing himself off the bed, allowing himself to be led to the bathroom. Mikey didn't realize how tired he was until he was standing, swaying on his feet. He latched onto Frank's arm as they both stumbled down the hallway, probably waking his parents and the neighbors in the process. They reached the bathroom and Mikey flipped on the light, making them both squint at the attack on their eyes. Mikey opened the cabinet over the sink and got his makeup remover. It was sad, really, that he needed makeup remover on a daily basis. He was turning into his brother! shocked gasp

Since Frank didn't know much about the removal of makeup, he just went to scrubbing his face vigorously until it felt chapped and burning. The purple residue still remained when he examined himself, so he let out an exasperated sigh and turned to Mikey, who was slowly and carefully wiping his own face. Frank felt a little jolt of excitement when he realized he would get to see Mikey without makeup! But now to the task at hand:

"Mikey, help..."

Mikey glanced down at his helpless friend, smirking. Did all boys have this much trouble with makeup? He never did, he's always had Gerard to hang around and teach him (against his will) about this shit. He remembered one day, a few years ago before Gerard left for school, they were both sitting at the kitchen table. Mikey was eating breakfast, and his brother was crouching down in his seat in front of a little hand mirror propped up against his books with a stick of eyeliner in his hand, looking eerily like a girl with his long hair and slender fingers.

"Geez, that's so gay. I hope you poke your eye out, Gee," Mikey had said. So Gerard stopped in his attempt to draw thick black lines under his eyes to jump at Mikey. They ended up on the floor, Gerard holding his brother down while he applied makeup to his eyes. And Mikey had to go to school like that, because he didn't know how to get it off. Oh, he got beaten up severely for that. He never told Gerard about it, though. Mikey didn't want him to feel responsible.

He finished his own face before directing Frank to sit on the edge of his tub. He got out one of the wipes that had make up remover fused into it (oh so convenient for goth people like himself), and began wiping at Frank's face gently. He found himself repeating words his brother had said to him before. "Don't scrub at it or you'll rub your face raw and it'll be sore."

"Mkay..." Frank mumbled. He just wanted to be able to open his eyes and look at Mikey. He had his eyes squeezed shut while Mikey was helping him take off the make up, and he was starting to get anxious. It was just makeup, not a big deal, but he was finally going to see Mikey's face without it! What did he look like? What color was his skin really? More importantly, what color are his lips? The black nothing-ness of his eyelids was about to drive him mad.

"Alright, we're done," Mikey announced. Frank breathed a sigh of relief and fluttered his eyes open up to look at Mikey, who was still leaning over him. And damn...he was beautiful. He had a tan. A fucking tan! Mind you, it wasn't particularly dark, but it gave him a look of...not being one of the undead monsters who lurked around graveyards at night. It was weird to see Mikey look alive. He liked it very much. He wanted to reach out and touch Mikey's cheek, just to make sure it was real. It couldn't be real. It wasn't supposed to be like this, Mikey should be that unattractive beauty, one you had to look closely to find. It shouldn't be on display like this for the world to see some dumb GIRL could come along, realize how beautiful Mikey was, and steal him away. Frank just wanted to be selfish and keep Mikey all to himself.

Mikey shifted his eyes nervously. Frank was outright staring at him, and it was making him very uncomfortable. He didn't like to be looked at, especially without a layer of white powder and enough eyeliner to choke a fish. Frank leaned up to slide Mikey's glasses off of his nose and ears. He set the glasses down beside him on the side of the tub with a clink, and examined Mikey's eyes. Man, he had pretty eyes. He'd already said it once, and it was never more true than now, where the gorgeous dark eyes in question were surrounded by lightly tanned, unblemished golden skin. Frank's eyes darted down to Mikey's mouth. His pretty pale pink lips that always seemed to be turned down in a sweet pout.

"Mikey, you're pretty," Frank said, sounding like a child in awe. He ran his fingers along Mikey's jaw, making him shiver. Mikey reached up to still his hand against his cheek. He found that he liked the feather-light touch way too much to let Frank continue with his curious wandering.

"No I'm not, Frank. I can't stand the way I look without makeup. I just look so...human."

He didn't feel human. Far from it, actually. Aren't humans supposed to be able to converse with one another? Or be able to touch each other without the awful sensation of their flesh coming alive and trying to rip away from the rest of their body? He was a fucking freak. What kind of person can't touch someone else? How is he supposed to go through life like that! Who the hell would ever want him? No one had that patience. He was just waiting for the day when Frank gets sick of his skittish ways and leaves. That would kill him. He'd never really felt heartbreak--he never thought he'd be in a relationship in order to get his heart broken--but losing Frank would be very close. No, it would be worse. Now that he'd met Frank, he wasn't willing to let him go. But he still wanted to keep him at a safe distance. Just so Frank wouldn't see what he's really like.

Frank slowly put Mikey's glasses back on his face. He was starting to feel drowsy again, even though Mikey's words had hurt him…again. Why can't he make Mikey happy? He sighed, knowing it would be impossible for him to be happy while Mikey was depressed. Oh the joys of one-sided love!

…was love too strong of a term for what he felt? It's not like he's ever been in a relationship where he'd actually been in love. He was one to throw the term around loosely. It was just words. What right do they have to hurt people? And that 's all they did, really. It hurt when Bob said it. It hurt that Frank couldn't say it to Mikey. But he would NEVER say it to Mikey, not even if by some chance of fate Mikey likes him, because he's used the term so loosely, so many un-loved people had heard it from him, that it would be meaningless to say it to Mikey. He was too good to hear Frank spew shit about his feelings, even if he did love Mikey. And he did love Mikey. He decided, right there, that he loved Mikey.

Mikey looked down at Frank. He was starting to get worried. Frank had been staring off into space blankly for nearly two minutes, and Mikey couldn't look away. What is he so melancholy about? Mikey didn't like this. Frank is the only reason Mikey is ever happy, and he's supposed to always be happy.

Isn't he?

Because if the happiness of this friendship rests on his skinny little shoulders…well, they were going to be two morbid bitches. But he'll try anyway, for Frank's sake. He put a hand on Frank's arm.

"What's wrong, Frankie?"

"Frankie?" Frank giggled. "Aw, I like that."

It was what Bob called him.

Hm, was this the second test? The first being the leash, of course, but now a nickname? Ah, Frank loves it. No, strike that. He adored it, since love didn't mean anything. He stood up and threw his arms around Mikey.

"I'm just tired, that's all Mikey. I might just fall asleep in the tub. Unless you would like to give me a piggy-back ride to your room so I can sleep in a bed…hint hint…" He added a playful poke to Mikey's ribs as he said this. Mikey smiled and turned around so Frank could hop on his back. He wound his arms around Mikey and rested his chin on his shoulder as he was carried back to the room. When they reached the bed, Frank suddenly found himself upside down. He let out a high-pitched girlish squeak and then grunted as he hit the bed. Mikey smirked down at his dazed friend.

"That," he stated, "was for tackling me at Sonic."

"Ah, but that was your fault, Mikey! You laughed at me and my poor delicate psyche couldn't handle that, so I had to retaliate!" Frank couldn't keep from grinning. He liked the playful Mikey.

"And did losing help your fragile little psyche?" Mikey asked. He reached down to run a hand affectionately through Frank's bangs without realizing what he was doing. Frank closed his eyes and leaned into the comfortable caress.

"Ah, shuddup. You cheated. Pft, cheater," Frank grumbled. He crawled further up the bed so his head was reclining against the soft black pillows. Mikey followed him to the top of the bed, sinking under the covers beside Frank. But he wasn't done talking, which was highly unusual for him. He never wanted to talk. He was just thrust into the position of having to talk. But right now, while he and Frank were in the sanctity of his room and playing around, acting like the teenage boys that they are, he wanted to strike up a conversation.

"You're the cheater, Frank. You jumped me without any warning. See, I'm the victim."

Frank giggled and scooted a little closer to Mikey. He really wanted to cuddle, but would that be pushing his limits? Mikey was being a little touchy, so maybe he could get away with it. Mm, he'll just ease into it.

"Pft, you're a foot taller than me! You have a natural advantage! And I'm cute, so no one will think I'm capable of jumping you. You look SCARY with all that makeup," Frank said sarcastically. He poked Mikey on the tip of his nose, evoking a little snarl from Mikey and getting his hand batted away.

"If I'm scary, why do you hang out with me?" Mikey asked smartly. He was actually hoping to annoy Frank for once. He just wanted a little playful banter like any normal person would enjoy. It was nice spending time with Frank like this.

"Because I like scary things. They're very intriguing, y'know? I like to see scary things, because there's a conflict in them," Frank said. "See, I think that if you look close enough, you can find beauty in anything. Not simply the things that everyone thinks are beautiful, or are classified as having great beauty. Even scary things have beauty. Often, it's a conflict of tastes and senses, having horror and beauty all rolled into one." Not like Mikey, though. He was simply gorgeous, he didn't have that horrible undertone about him. He held a different fascination for Frank, something not readily known yet. All Frank knew--all he wanted and needed to know--was that Mikey is simply perfect. He was completely content to just live in the now, comfortable and in love and close to his adored one, joking around and near-cuddling.

A light film of dullness to the world covered him, lulling him into a warm and fuzzy state of being. He yawned, and was entirely ready to drift off, but Mikey stopped him.

"Frank, you're still wearing the corset…" Mikey mumbled. He was really only worried that it would cause discomfort for Frank while he tried to sleep. The corset was pretty tight, and Frank had complained about it earlier, exclaiming that it was going to cut off his circulation and cause him to lose his legs.

Mikey liked the corset on Frank, though. It was so…attractive on him. It cinched right around his narrow little waist, then flared out a bit, creating wondrous curves on a normally boy-ish frame. He wanted to reach out and trace the dipped line that Frank's body made laid out like that, but when has Mikey ever done anything like that when he wanted to?

Frank groaned and lifted himself up off the bed. Without warning, he peeled both the corset and tanktop off, offering Mikey an overwhelming view of the lovely hips he so admired, as well as the rest of his pretty olive-coloured body. Mikey blushed and looked down quickly, trying to ignore the urge to twist his head around and gawk all he wanted to at the beautiful boy. Geez, he wanted to look so bad, but his brain would surely explode if he did. The image was already burned in his mind, making him want to bang his head up against the wall until it just floats away.

"Do you sleep fully dressed?" Frank asked. He was about to pull his pants off so he would be left in only his boxers, but he didn't want to be half-naked while Mikey is fully clothed. That would be a little awkward, even for him.

"No. Usually I sleep in boxers and a tanktop, but…" Mikey trailed off, shrugging. There was a lot behind that shrug. It said, 'but my body is no where near as perfect as you and I can't bare for you to see my ugliness'.

"Well, change so I don't feel like such an exhibitionist," Frank said, unbuttoning his jeans.

Mikey wanted to protest, but he found himself going through the act of changing. He slipped his tight black T-shirt off (DANZIG, with a horned skull) off and replaced it with the gray tanktop he always wore to bed. Frank stared, he outright gawked when Mikey wasn't looking. How could he pass up this opportunity?

That's right, he couldn't.

Of course, he only saw Mikey's back since he was turned around out of modesty, but it was still nice. Frank hurried into bed and crawled under the covers a split second before Mikey turned around and would have caught him staring. Mikey got into bed beside Frank, sinking deep into the cozy little dip in the bed. As he began sorting out the covers around himself, he heard Frank gasp.

"Shit! Mikey!" His hand flew to Mikey's shoulder, over the sore bruise Bob had left.

Fuck, how did Mikey forget about them? Why didn't he just look down, realize Frank would worry, and find a T-shirt to wear?

...because he wanted Frank to worry. He wanted Frank to make a fuss over him again, to get madder at Bob so he wouldn't leave. He wanted to feel someone care. What a selfish asshole.

"Does it still hurt?" Frank asked softly. He let his fingers trail over the blue and yellow patch lightly. Mikey put his hand over Frank's and moved it away.

"No, don't worry, Frank. It's fine. It just looks bad," he answered, ignoring the throbbing pain. No, he didn't want to worry Frank. Forget what he said before. He felt cared about. Frank slipped his arm around Mikey's waist and they both fell asleep like that. Skin touching skin, completely comfortable in each other's arms.