FicWad

Bob was breaking down without Frank. Everyone around him could see it. He was still in love, it still hurt just as bad after two weeks. He regretted beating up Mikey, he really did. And not just because it made Frank hate him. Mikey didn't deserve it. It wasn't his fault that Frank liked him, as much as Bob wanted to blame him. It was so hard to blame yourself for losing someone you love, it was almost as bad as the initial heartbreak. Because this was a continuous ache deep inside his head, inside his chest that wouldn't let him be. It called out to him, blamed him, reminded him everyday that he was not loved. He wanted to mutilate and destroy that voice in the most vicious way possible.

He saw them--Frank and Mikey--walking in the halls side-by-side. Not even talking. Neither of them looked happy. Frank seemed to have lost his effervescent infectious joy that Bob loved. Now THAT, he can blame on Mikey. Being around a goth all the time had to suck the light out of life.

They parted, Mikey going down the senior hallway and Frank down the junior. Mikey went to his locker, fully aware that Bob was staring sat him. Bob went to stand behind Mikey. Mikey braced himself to be shoved/pushed/assaulted like he'd come to expect from Bob.

"Hey, Mikey," Bob started. "I'm sorry."

Mikey spun around quickly, eyebrows raised in belief. "What?"

Bob sighed and ran a hand fretfully through his hair. Geez, wasn't this already excruciating enough?

"I. Am. Sorry. I shouldn't have started those fights," he said mechanically. He really wasn't expecting to be forgiven. He really was merciless in the fight. But, to his shock and surprise, Mikey smiled.

"Okay, I forgive you, Bob."

"Really? Just like that?" When Mikey nodded, he went on. "Good. Now...you broke Frank!! Why isn't he happy?" he demanded, putting his hand on his hip in an overly feminine gesture. But then again, fighting for the boy he was in love with could be deemed feminine as well.

Mikey floundered for an answer. He noticed Frank's lack of...Frank-ness, but how could he know why? "I...um...I don't know..." Mikey said timidly. He scratched nervously at his arm. What was he supposed to say? Hell, he wishes he knew what was wrong with Frank.

Bob frowned. "Well, find out. I don't want him to be sad, alright? I would ask, but he hates me. So it's up to you," Bob poked Mikey in the chest, "to fix him. And I am assuming that you can do that." He leaned against the lockers and stared Mikey down for a moment, placing silent threats between them.

Mikey nodded, sighing. He hated it when Bob is right. But they both want what was best for Frank, so…they had to end their fight.

Bob played at the bottom of his shirt nervously. "What are you to Frank, anyway?" he blurted out. "Are you, like, going out?" Please say no, he thought. It's very possible that he'll savagely rip Mikey limb from limb if he says yes.

Mikey was taken back by the question. HELL NO, they weren't dating. He would never date Frank! Not from lack of desire to--he was starting to believe that he liked Frank in that way--but he just wouldn't. He was happier than he'd ever been just being friends with Frank, and dating would just get in the way of things, like it always did. So no. Never. Not in a million years. Not when hell freezes over (because he believed that would happen soon after Bob's apology).

"No, I'm not gay."

Bob sighed out of relief. Frank didn't have a boyfriend. Thank god. Mikey wasn't gay. He wasn’t going to steal Frank. He had nothing to worry about in the first fucking place! Dammit, he made Frank hate him for no reason!

*

Frank and Mikey piled up under their tree in their usual spots at lunch. Mikey with his back against the rough back of the tree, and Frank leaning on him. Most of the time they didn't bother actually eating lunch--just fueling more gossip for Mikey's obvious serious case of anorexia--but today they had chicken sandwiches, so Frank bought one. He leaned his head back to rest on Mikey's shoulder and sighed. He'd been doing that a lot lately. He just wasn't happy. Well, he was happy with Mikey most of the time, but that wasn't enough. He didn't know what was the matter with him. He glared down at the grass and took a vicious bite out of his sandwich. He may have even growled while he was doing it, he wasn't sure.

"Frank?" He yelped as Mikey's voice suddenly came out of nowhere. "Frank, what's wrong?"

He craned his neck up to look at Mikey. Oh shit, now I've worried Mikey...

"Nothing, I'm fine," he chirped, putting on a fake smile. Mikey smiled back sadly.

"How can I make it better if I don't know what's wrong?" he asked sweetly. Frank shrugged childishly and turned around a little bit so he could properly see Mikey. "Do you miss Bob?"

That stopped Frank's mind. All the gears winding intricately inside his brain fucked up and went away. Of course he missed Bob! He missed every fucking thing about him excluding his temper! He couldn't stop aching over the loss of Bob. Every time he saw him, he felt like screaming and banging his head against the floor until Bob came over to help him. Bob was the only person who knew how to fix him.

But he didn't like Bob right now. He hurt Mikey, and Frank wasn't going to just forget about it. He left bruises on Mikey, and who knows how far he would have gone if Frank hadn't stepped in.

"He apologized today. About the fight, I mean," Mikey said in the same sweet voice. He didn't really want Frank to forgive Bob, he wanted Frank all to himself. He didn't want Frank to sit on the jungle gym at lunch like he used to, he wanted him right here resting in the crook of his arm. He didn't want Frank to pick Bob as his partner in fifth period, leaving Mikey to be paired up with that kid with the afro who always hangs around Bob like a shadow. Most of all, he didn't want Bob to yell at Frank like he saw him do when they were fighting. But he knew that he needed help keeping Frank happy.

"I don't know if I want to speak with him. You're not the first boy that he's beaten up just for talking to me, I just didn't care so much about the others. He's got to realize he can't do that. And how do I know that he won't try to hurt you again if I hugged you in the hallway? Or if I'd rather hang out with you after school than him?"

Mikey cocked his head to the side. "Would you pick me over him?" Mikey wondered outloud. He meant it more as a rhetorical question than an actual one. He didn't think Frank would pick him over Bob, so he didn't need an answer. But the look of disbelief that crossed over Frank's face made him think he'd said the wrong thing. This is why he avoids speaking, he always fucks his words up and makes a fool of himself. But after a moment, Frank smiled.

"Mikey, I've already picked you. You don't see me talking with Bob, do you?" Frank sighed and rested his head back on Mikey's shoulder. "Why are you always so insecure? Do you honestly not see how perfect you are, Mikey?" Frank asked lowly. He didn't dare look up at Mikey's face, at least not yet. You can't just say those things to Mikey, and Frank knew that. He knew Mikey was going to act harshly.

"Frank, don't do that," Mikey growled. Frank had to be joking. He had to be taking the piss out of him, there's no other explanation why anyone would consider Mikey anywhere near perfect. He knew this 'friend' business was a pile of shit, no one wants him. No one can stand him for this long!

"Do what? Call you perfect?" Frank asked, frowning.

"Don't lie to me. Don't try to trick me, I know that I'm a nuisance to you. Right now, I'm frustrating you! And you were a lot happier when you were talking to Bob! How can you think I'm perfect? I've just ruined things for you."

Frank sighed, wondering how he could get the fact through Mikey's stubborn mind that he cares so much it hurts. Mikey was perfect, whether he accepted it or not, no matter what anyone has told him in the past. And Frank had a sneaking suspicion that people in Mikey's life have called him worthless, have beaten him down countless times until he was left like this. Untrusting and full of hate. If Frank ever found out who hurt his Mikey--yes, Mikey fucking belonged to him, he'd like to see someone try to take him away--then he would rip them limb from limb while they were still alive, still conscious to feel all of the vengeful pain.

"Mikey, do you trust me?" Frank asked. He glanced over at Mikey as he spoke. Mikey's sorrowful look told him all he needed to know. No, Mikey did not trust him. He expected Frank to hurt him at some point in his life just like everyone else had. Shit, Frank was almost out of ideas, except to just blurt out to Mikey that he loved him, but that would cause more problems.

"Mikey...you know, you're the only friend I have now. I can't be friends with Bob after he hurt you like that. I just want you to know even if you don't believe me, I will never hurt you. And I'll try my fucking hardest not to let anyone else ever hurt you, but it would be a lot easier if you just trusted me. Have I ever done anything bad to you?"

Mikey felt like he was being spoken to like a child, but he took Frank's words to heart. No, he's never done anything to hurt him,. But that doesn't mean he never will. Just because he says it now, that doesn't mean Frank will always be there, or will never hurt him in the future.

"No, Frank," Mikey breathed, resting his head back against the tree. The bark dug into the back of his head but he wasn't bothered it enough to raise up. Frank's next question was more important than the last one by a long shot. Not only did it imply that they would stay together for a long time--not together as in dating, but as friendship--but it answered the bigger question of whether Mikey was really as cold and distant as Frank feared.

"Do you think I'll ever hurt you on purpose?"

Mikey put an arm over his eyes and sighed. "I...don't know. Frank, I don't wanna talk about this-"

"Mikey please. Just...why don't you trust anyone? Why can't you trust me?"

"Frank-"

"Mikey," Frank cut him off. He'd never been like this with Mikey. Usually, if he didn't want to talk about something--like the ocean, that was always a touchy subject--then Frank would find something else to talk about. Often times, he just wound up repeating himself, going back over the things he knew Mikey liked to talk about. That's how far Frank went to keep Mikey comfortable, but this was serious. This wasn't some random shit he popped off with just so he could talk with Mikey. This wasn't like the ocean, or manga, or flowers. He glanced up at Mikey's face upturned toward the sky. His eyes were getting watery, and all Frank wanted to do was gather Mikey up in his arms and kiss all the tears away, but he couldn't. So he waited patiently for Mikey's answer.

"Frank, it's so much easier for you to hurt me. Everyone else...they think the nasty glares, the immature names and rude hand gestures hurt me. How dumb is that!" He stopped for a moment to wipe his eyes. He probably just smudged his eyeliner, but oh well. "Not even the beatings hurt anymore, not after I've been through so many. I've built up a wall against all of that shit, so it doesn't bother me. You wouldn't believe how many bones I've broken over the years from fights. But through it all, you've been my only friend. You're the only person who cares. Imagine how it feels to know that people are scowling at you when we walk down the hall together! That hurts, knowing you're getting judged because of me. It sure as hell hurts me more than Bob did. You have the power to hurt me more than anyone else does. How can I trust you? It's a death sentence. It's mental suicide." Mikey finished and left an uncomfortable silence between the two. He'd just bared his soul as much as possible, more than he'd ever done before to Frank, and it rattled him.

That honesty...no one in the world was that honest. He said exactly what was on his mind without pausing to think how it would affect Frank. And Frank was definitely affected. He never imagined he meant so much to Mikey. He loved to hear that, but at the same time it killed him. He wanted to know that Mikey cared, that he was important to him, but h didn't expect it to be to this extent. Plus, hearing that Mikey couldn't trust him for that reason made it bittersweet. It poisoned that little scrap of good news so that Frank didn't know how to feel. Should he be happy that Mikey cares about him, or distraught over the fact that the only person he's ever loved can never trust him? He decided that he could feel both emotions at once, even if it was an overload on his senses, threatening to overflow his mind and send him into fits of erratic behavior.

Frank wrapped his arms around Mikey's shoulders and gave him a hug. At first he was met with a little hesitation, which was often the way Mikey reacted, then usually he would slowly melt and hug Frank back, but this time Mikey remained immobile. It's not that he didn't want to hug Frank, because he loved to feel Frank near him touching him. It was a safe feeling normally. But now he just wondered what the motive behind it was. He wanted to let his suspicions go--he wanted to be a good friend for Frank, not the fuck up that he really was--but he was afraid.

That's all.

He let his fear get the better of him, and it made his friend suffer. It just made him hate himself more. It wasn't a good feeling.

"I'm sorry, Frank..." He felt like he had to say something to make it better. Finally, he made himself hug Frank back tightly and repeat that he was sorry. He leaned down and rested his forehead on Frank's shoulder hesitantly. He waited until Frank responded to get more comfortable.

Frank scooted until his back was against the tree and sat straight so Mikey would fit in his arms better. It was a bit of an awkward embrace at first until Mikey decided to put his arms around Frank's waist and snuggle into his chest. Frank rested his chin on top of Mikey's head and ran both of his hands through his black hair. He noticed with a little smirk that Mikey's light brown roots were coming in. He wondered what Mikey looked like before he became goth. Of course he was beautiful, that much Frank was sure of. It was impossible for Mikey to be anything other than that.

The two didn't know it but their thoughts ran similar courses as they cuddled up with each other. While Frank was thinking about Mikey, Mikey was replaying in his head the afternoon when Frank bent over to get some water and his shirt rose up. He knew, he's seen Frank without a shirt before, but at the water fountain he was getting a glimpse of something he necessarily wasn't supposed to see. It was better accidental, he supposed.

...sometimes, he dreamed about Frank. That sounds very stalker-ish, like maybe Mikey was obsessed with Frank. Hell, maybe he is obsessed with him. All he wants anymore is to be near Frank, no matter what time it is or where he was at the moment. He could be wanking off at 4 am--not that he actually DID that--and be thinking about Frank. Sick, isn't it? And even worse is how he was thinking about Frank. He would wonder how Frank's hips would feel under his fingertips, how his mouth tastes--Mikey was guessing ice cream, what with the way he was always eating it--and be disgusted with himself afterwards. He wanted to talk to someone about it, but he was afraid of being called a sick little queer. Because that's just not what he was. He just liked Frank so much, and only Frank. He didn't fancy boys over girls or vice-versa. There was only Frank that he wanted in his life.

*

Bob watched Frank and Mikey across the road from his spot on the jungle gym that was tainted with memories. Whatever Mikey had just said made Frank feel the need to cuddle him. Not that Mikey would have to say much for that to happen, since Frank likes him so fucking much. Bob clutched the bars of the monkey bars until his knuckles turned pure white with the force he was exerting on the unfortunate metal poles. He felt that need again--the need to make Mikey gone. To make him bleed all over the grass he was cuddling with Frank on. Surely that would make the ache in his heart go away?

Ray...basically knew how everyone felt now. Bob hates Mikey, Frank loves Mikey, Mikey was indifferent to Bob, and he was fond of Frank. How did he know this? Because he wasn't a fucktard! He remained the only one in the square of...friends that were smart enough to piece everything together. Gah, it was frustrating. He just wanted to go around and state the obvious. He wanted to grab Bob and scream at him that Frank hates him, then he wanted to play matchmaker with the other two, just to get this shit to stop! But he won't. Just for the sake of seeing how this plays out. Besides, it's too early in the story, right? No, he was resigning to sit back and watch as simply a spectator.

"Ray, I want to kill him," Bob stated, hoping Ray would be the nice guy that he always is and talk him down. Again. But after five years of Ray following Bob around like his mother, calming him down and keeping him out of fights, he was tired.

"Do it."

*

"Hey, how about we get out of here?" Frank asked softly, his fingers still combing through Mikey's hair slowly. The bell for sixth period--signaling the end of lunch and the end of their time together-- was about to ring and Frank wanted to spend the rest of the day with Mikey. He wasn't sure if Mikey would be up for it, with him being the excellent student that he was and all, but if he wasn't then Frank would just have to persuade him.

Mikey's eyes had been drooping ever since he found this comfortable spot nestled in Frank's arms, dozing slightly as Frank petted him. He felt like he could go to sleep like this, outside and in front of the world but not caring. He felt rather than heard Frank's voice, only knowing he had spoken be the vibrations in his throat. Mikey tried to understand the words Frank had said, but his mind was too fogged up to be of any use right now. He let out a barely audible 'Hm?' before finding himself a more comfortable place to rest his head on Frank's shoulder. After much fidgeting, he decided the crook of Frank's neck was the best and moved the rest of his body a little bit so he wasn't crushing the boy under him.

Frank couldn't help but grin at Mikey as he curled himself up in his arms with his eyes closed. It was fucking adorable how Mikey could think this was an acceptable place to nap, out here with all the students and teachers. Not that anyone was paying mind to the two boys, they had their own lives to occupy themselves with.

Although he didn't want to--he was perfectly content to sit here and watch his love sleep peacefully in his arms--Frank gave Mikey's arm a little push to wake him up.

"Mikey, wake up. Lunch is almost over." He'd hunched down close to Mikey's ear to divulge this piece of information, almost close enough for his lips to touch his ear. He could probably sneak a kiss if he had the guts.

This time the words registered in Mikey's ears and he let out a groan. Even though his brain was mucked up from the physical contact that he was experiencing, Mikey knew Frank was right. He couldn't stay like this. Plus, it was probably uncomfortable for Frank, with all the cuddling Mikey was forcing on him. He pulled himself out of Frank's arms and sat up straight. His hands flew to his hair, trying to smooth it down because he knew it looked like shit even though he couldn't see it. He was really starting to get annoyed with having long-ish hair. Maybe he'll get it cut.

"Sorry about that..." Mikey mumbled as he struggled to get himself sorted. Frank smiled and batted Mikey's hands away from his hair. He went to work smoothing down the hair that he'd messed up by playing with it.

"About what?" Frank asked absent-mindedly. He knew Mikey was apologizing about sleeping on him, but what was there to be sorry about? It's not like he was unwelcome in Frank's arms.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," Mikey sputtered, eyes glued to the ground. Now that he was fully awake the reality of the situation snapped into his mind, propelled by Frank's small ministrations to smooth down his hair and the awake feeling he had. It was like when the teacher was lazy and let the class watch a movie. All the students emerge from that class better rested than before and awake. And they'd each have a red line on their face or arm where they laid their heads down, marking then as the lucky few who got the hung over teacher who sat at her desk and sipped black coffee while the TV did her job for her.

"It's okay, Mikey." Frank, satisfied that Mikey's hair was as smooth as he was going to get it, let his hand drop to Mikey's face. He swiped his thumb under Mikey's eye gently, ridding it of the last of the smudged eyeliner.

"Do you wanna skip the rest of the day? We can go back to my house and nap if you want." The prospect of having Mikey in bed with him brought up loverly scrumptious visions for Frank. He knew that none of them would happen, of course. No one would be pushing anyone up against the walls in his room, the posters making crackling sounds as body weight was applied to them. The faces of Henry Rollins and Danzig thumbtacked high above his bed would not be seeing free porn any time soon. Not from Frank and Mikey, at least.

Mikey had no idea whether Frank was being serious or not. He wanted him to be serious so bad. The thought that he could waste the rest of the day curled up in Frank's embrace was heaven to him. He hated his next two classes something fierce, and if he had a choice, hell yes he was spending the day with Frank! It made him giddy. It made him want to lean over and press soft kisses to Frank's dark pink lips, made him want to hug him and never let go. But of course he didn't do these things. He couldn't.

"You mean it?" Mikey asked.

Frank grinned as wide as he ever had in his life. He knew he must look like such a desperate tool, grinning like that and nodding his head vigorously, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered other than the fact that he was getting Mikey all to himself.

*

Frank smiled down at the mess of a boy curled up in his arms. Yeah, Mikey had fallen asleep again. This time it was during a movie that Frank had popped into the VCR player in his living room. The movie was over, the screen just showing that static-y jumble of black, white, and gray dots battling it out for dominance of the screen, but Frank stayed put. He could care less about the movie, hadn't paid attention to one scene despite it being one of his favorites. How could he be expected to care about Christian Bale's desire to chop up Jared Leto with an axe when Mikey chastely laid his head on Frank's shoulder, looking up for permission just in case Frank didn't want him doing it? Or when Mikey had squirmed around in his seat so much that Frank had to put both of his arms around his waist and pull Mikey into his lap, the other boy molding to his body without complaint and so perfectly that it couldn't be coincidental.

No, Mikey was much more interesting to watch than a movie. When his glasses slid down his nose to hang precariously at the end, threatening to fall off, Frank gently slid them from his face and placed them on the coffee table beside the couch. When Frank's mom came through the door loudly, he shushed her and glanced down to make sure Mikey was undisturbed.

He was a little worried about what his mom would think after she saw him cuddled up with Mikey. Would she figure out that he liked a boy? It was pretty obvious. How would she react to that? He really didn't want his mom to hate him just because the person he likes happens to not be a girl.

Maybe she would like Mikey if she mets him and saw how happy he made Frank. Then again, she might be sickened at the thought of her son being gay and never speak to him again. Frank hears about it all the time on TV, about how no one likes gay boys. But gay girls are alright as long as they aren't ugly and let straight boys watch. It's a double standard.

Frank decided not to worry about it right now, since his mom just said 'sorry' quietly and went into the kitchen, not seeming to mind the boys.

She thought just as long as Frankie was happy, it wasn't a big deal that he liked to hold Mikey like that, like her husband used to before his music took him away from her. It was actually very sweet the way he watched over the sleeping boy protectively, both arms curled around his waist snugly like he was afraid someone would take him away.

*

Frank deicded that he should wake Mikey up when he looked at the clock hanging on the wall and realised that it was almost 4. They'd wasted the whole afternoon sleeping.

Frank glanced down at Mikey, still soundly asleep with his fingers grasping at the front of Frank's shirt and his nose pressed up against Frank's collar, his slow breath tickling his neck. His pale pink mouth was slightly open and his thick dark brows were relaxed for once, not furrowed in frustration behind glasses that magnified his dark, needy eyes.

Frank leaned down and pressed his lips to Mikey's temple, knowing this was the only chance he would get. He half-wished that Mikey's eyes would flutter open, startled, catching Frank in the act just to see what he would say.

It didn't work that way, Frank couldn't rely on Fate to bring Mikey and him together. This was something that he was going to have to work out on his own, no act of Serendipity or Destiny was at work anywhere in the world. The movies and the books are all lies, just useless tools we use to help us believe that something will help us when we fall. Why can't humanity as a whole help itself? Is it fear that if something doesn't work out, there's no one to blame but yourself? Is it lack of any real desire?

It must be.

But Frank was scared. So he gently shook Mikey awake and just watched his pretty boy blink his eyes sleepily and gaze up at Frank with dreamy doe eyes.

Mikey loved waking up like this, limbs entangled with Frank's and their bodies melded together with their body heat like metal wires sautered together in intricate twists to make the works of art you can see on the streets in upscale New York.

"Mmmm..hello, Frankie," Mikey breathed against Frank's collar, his breath hot and muggy and sending shivers throughout Frank's body. "I suppose I fell asleep again...I'm sorry."

Frank chuckled as he reached a hand out to retrieve Mikey's glasses from the table. He slid them up Mikey's nose to rest where he always saw Mikey wear them.

"It's okay, Mikey. It's just like getting a really long hug, and you know I'm a hug whore."

Mikey laughed and let his head drop to the comfortable area in the crook of Frank's neck. A sigh escaped his lips sofly and his hands busied themselves playing with a few stray locks of Frank's hair as it curled up from underneath the beanie he was wearing.

"You're too comfy. I don't want to get up now...and I'm sorry if I'm crushing you, just tell me and I'll move."

"You're too skinny to crush me, Mikey," Frank said with a smile on his lips. He nuzzled his face into Mikey's hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. He had no idea what it was but he adored it. It certainly wasn't the Axe crap that Frank and every other guy in the world wore. It was all those dumb commercials about girls hanging all over you and trying to get at you that made most guys want it. But Frank wasn't interested in getting action from any girls. He wondered if there was some sort of reverse Axe...

Axe for gay men. Hmmm...

"What's a good name for reverse Axe?"

"Exa," Mikey answered without skipping a beat. He hadn't been anticipating that question at all, but he did expect Frank to ask something. He always does during those pregnant silences where normal people would fret over what to say, while he just pops off with whatever he wants.

Mikey lifted his head to grin at Frank after answering. Frank giggled at Mikey's smart-ass comment and his cheesy but oh-so-fucking-adorable grin that showcased his unusually pointy canine teeth.

His hands wound their way to the back of Mikey's neck, twirling a strand of his glossy black hair around his index finger. Frank rested his forehead against Mikey's so that their noses were touching and their lips were so close.

"Pft, you're such a weirdo, Michael," Frank said, giggling again at the mock-hurt face that Mikey pulled. Frank stuck out his botom lip and dropped his arms to where they were circling Mikey's waist in a hug. "Aw, I'm sorry, Mikey. But it's the truth."

Mikey snorted and gave Frank a mean face that just set him off into another fit of giggles.

"Hey, I don't have to take this, Frankie, I could just leave," Mikey threatened. It was a threat that he really didn't want to go through with. He was too happy like this, being with Frank and kidding around with him, not worrying about anything in the world. He didn't give a shit that he missed a Chemistry test, didn't care that he would get home late and would have to explain where he'd been, he wasn't even worried that Frank didn't like him like this. In fact, Frank seemed perfectly happy like this. As soon as his threat of leaving passed through his lips, Frank gave a little cry of protest and tightened his arms around Mikey.

"Nooo, don't leave..."

"But I have to."

Frank grumbled as Mikey slid off of Frank's lap and stood up. Like before, as soon as he was away from Frank's arms, the reality of how he had been acting horrified Mikey. His judgement was marred every fucking time he got near Frank! Why can't he control himself around him, why do his limbs turn to jello, why is he completely comfortable and happy?

Frank stood up and walked Mikey to the door somberly. He was seriously considering just holding Mikey hostage forever in his room. From what he gathered of Mikey's family, they wouldn't miss him. At the door, Frank steped forward and hugged Mikey once more. He buried his head in Mikey's chest and hoped they could stay like this forever.

Mikey completely melted in Frank's arms just like before. He found himself seeking out the warmth and the smells and the sounds and everything that Frank offered. If he had a choice, he would live in Frank's arms. But he regained his composure and just smiled and returned the hug warmly.

"Another hug, Frank?" he asked softly, lowly, close to Frank's ear. Close enough to notice that he had them gaged when he didn't notice before.

"Mikey, if you walk out that door and get stampeded by a herd of buffalo and die, I want to know that I hugged you, and it had damn well better be a good one. So I always mean it when I hug you," Frank murmured.

The smile stayed on Mikey's lips as he snatched Frank's beanie off of his head and ran his hands through his hair. Frank was practically purring from the touch that sent shivers down his neck and spine, down to the floor where he was surprised it didn't trigger an earthquake, and he curled his fingers tightly into the back of Mikey's shirt.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Frank," Mikey said.

And just like that, he was one, out the door, leaving Frank behind on the other side of the door. Dejected and needy.