FicWad

When Mikey woke up and felt the warm, sticky moisture between his thighs, he realised he was very good at lucid dreaming. He stretched his neck then let his head fall back on the pillow, eyes closing for a moment as he sighed. He opened them and stared at a nondescript section of ceiling in his eyeline, unsure as yet how to feel.

He felt different. That was the most noticeable thing. His physical closeness to Gerard after alcohol had always been base fucking and that was it. And that was usually after a significant amount of alcohol, not just a couple of beers with dinner. But routine didn't replay last night, the physical closeness had been sweet and caring and necessary and emotional, it was just what Mikey needed from Gerard but never thought Gerard needed from him.
Normal brothers hang out and watch Star Wars. Normal brothers don't hold hands and curl themselves around the other and fall in sync with their breathing while watching Star Wars. This time it wasn't just Mikey's extremely powerful imagination - there was no brotherly explanation for the extreme closeness of last night. And Gerard wasn't drunk - he may have been slightly tipsy, sure, so was Mikey, but he wasn't drunk enough for his behaviour to be out of his control. They were both adults and completely conscious of their actions. Therefore there was no excuse for Gerard's loving behaviour, no rational explanation, coincidence or banal cover-up, he knew exactly what he was doing and what he was doing wasn't brotherly. That had to mean something, right? There had to be something there, it couldn't all be in Mikey's head. Not this time.

It was just coming light outside the window, twilight, probably, and Mikey decided that was quite enough thinking for this time of day. It wasn't a matter he could easily find an answer to and be at peace with, and the more he thought about it the more it would hurt his brain, so for now he sat up a little bit in his bed, leaning against the headboard, and picked up his book, reading as the sun came up and slowly filled his room.

Mikey turned his page and squinted up over the top of his book, looking at the window that was streaming in bright light now and made a mental note to buy some curtains. He turned back to his book then heard a noise at his door and the squeaking of the handle as it opened. He glanced up and saw Gerard hovering in the doorway wearing just a faded grey Cure tshirt and plaid boxers, with mussed up hair and a sleepy smile, holding two cups of coffee. Mikey smiled up at him, his heart rate increasing. He hadn't had time to make sense of the previous night so had no idea how to act around Gerard, and the fact that he looked so beautiful and fucking tempting right then didn't help Mikey to rationalise.

Gerard closed the door behind him with his foot and padded over to the bed, putting one cup down on the closest dresser then resting his knee on the bed to lean across Mikey and put the other mug on the dresser next to him. He then pulled the sheet back and climbed into Mikey's bed, curling up next to him with his head by his chest and a happy grin on his face. Mikey automatically made room for him, opening his arm out and draping it around Gerard's shoulders, letting him get closer. He did a quick check down at his crotch and saw, thank fuck, that there wasn't a stain from his dream that he would have to try and hide.

"What are you reading?" Gerard asked, peering curiously at the book in Mikey's hands.

"O-oh, uh, it's, City of Spades." Mikey stuttered, completely on the spot but strangely comfortable. Having Gerard lying next to him in his bed on Sunday morning felt right.

"What's it about?" Gerard mumbled, getting comfy, his eyes flicked up briefly to Mikey's then back to his book.

"It's set in the fifties in London, about the underground scene and the people in it." Mikey explained, eyes flicking down to Gerard's face then back to his book.

"Read some?" Gerard asked.

"Uh, I was?" Mikey replied.

Gerard just laughed. "Out loud?" he clarified.

"Oh right." Mikey laughed under his breath and shook his head. "Aren't we a bit old for bedtime stories?"

"It's morning." Gerard pointed out, grinning up at Mikey.

He paused for a minute then laughed at himself and shrugged, giving in.

Mikey picked up where he left off and started reading aloud, his voice stabilising after the first two lines. Gerard curled his legs up and snuggled his head into the side of Mikey's chest - his hair sending ticklish electric shocks through Mikey's body even through his tshirt - and followed the page as Mikey read.

They stayed like that for a while, lying in bed in the bright morning between the soft sheets, Mikey reading to Gerard in a half-embrace that felt incredibly safe and more than anything natural.

"'"Theodora, I don't wish to be unkind, but you're pathetic. Why not admit you love him?"
"'She looked at me long and hard. "Because I'm ashamed to." she said at last. "Not ashamed because he's coloured, or, as you say, animal, or anything else, but because it's a feeling so strong I can't control it. I'm not used to that and I can't cope."'"

That hit a little too close to home for Mikey. It was luckily the end of the chapter and he closed the book, looking thoughtful and tortured. He snapped out of it and put the book on his dresser and turned to Gerard. Gerard looked back up at him.

"Last night was really fun, y'know - hanging out again. We don't do it enough anymore." he said. His eyes were a little more than brotherly and Mikey looked back at him, begging him to say something more.

When he didn't seem like he was going to, Mikey replied, "Yeah, we let Saturday-Star-Wars slip for way too long."

"We won't let it go again." Gerard said.

"No."

They looked at each other for a while then, neither saying anything, both wishing for the other to bring it up - whatever 'it' was -, the atmosphere teetering dangerously between awkward silence and sexual tension, between not wanting to say anything and wanting to say everything.
The opening chords of Knight Rider cut through the room like a mallet, and Mikey flicked his head around and leant back to get his phone off the dresser, accidentally moving Gerard slightly off his chest in the process. He lay back down and opened the message, it was from Jamia.

"How did the fucking of your hoe go? Tell me you showed the bitch where to get off?"

Mikey's stomach clenched and twisted as Gerard was lying next to him: Gerard, the 'hoe' that had caused such heartbreak and his friends had said he would be better off without. Gerard was lying next to him -on him: because Mikey'd done exactly the opposite of Jamia's advice. He thought of the heartbreak Gerard had caused him, of the purgatory they were in - things happening, nothing being said, nothing changing. No gratification, redemption or closure. And yet he was lying in bed with Gerard and he felt no regret. No shame. Nothing to make him believe he should give his brother up.

Mikey locked the screen and tossed it back on the dresser. When he rolled back onto his side he'd slipped down the bed and was at a level with Gerard, and he suddenly wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight. Gerard laughed a little in surprise, a genuinely happy smile on his face and hugged him back.

Mikey didn't say anything, but Gerard sensed a sort of desperation in him so held him tight. Mikey doesn't usually do vulnerable displays of affection, so Gerard didn't question it for his sake, just tried to give him whatever he needed and be there for him.

For Mikey, it was everything he wanted to say but couldn't, everything he wanted to do but couldn't; the strength of his need and love conveyed through physically clinging onto his brother. He would have felt embarrassed or self-conscious had Gerard not held him so close and just as tight, pressing his nose in Mikey's hair so Mikey could hear his rhythmic breathing, and stroked his back with warm, gentle hands.

After a silent but intensely communicative period of time, Mikey pulled away and sniffed, reaching for his coffee.

Gerard understood and lay on his side watching Mikey with adoring eyes, biting his lip and clearly keeping something back, but Mikey just looked at his knees and didn't notice any of that, self-consciousness and vulnerability returning.

Gerard tried to make him feel more comfortable, bringing the conversation to something more brotherly. "Hey, I'm going out for lunch with Bert today - you wanna come?"

Mikey looked round at him blankly, a little confused by the sudden change. "Bert?"

"Yeah, I did some sleeve artwork for his band a while ago, don't you remember? He was really cool, we all went out together a few times...." he prompted.

"Oh." Mikey remembered. "Bert." It wasn't so much a repetition in recognition as a repetition in resentment. It's fair to say that Mikey spat the name.

Bert the Slut was the guy that had thrown himself at Gerard every time they went out, in clear view of Mikey, his bandmates and the rest of their friends. What was worse was that Gerard hadn't pushed him away.

No, Mikey didn't particularly like Bert, or feel like having a reunion with him.

"Why are you going out with him?" he asked, covering up the jealousy and sipping casually at his coffee.

"He rang me the other day and said they'd finished their next album and wanted to talk to me about doing some more artwork for it." Gerard sounded genuinely excited about the job, and it made Mikey feel a little guilty. "So he asked if we could meet - and asked if you would come too 'cause it's been so long since we all hung out and he thought it'd be fun to do it again."

Mikey nodded distantly. Hanging out with Bert was really the last thing he would describe as fun, he would sooner sweep the streets of Detroit with his tongue or cut his balls off with hot irons.

"The other guys are going too..." Gerard tried. Mikey looked at him and chewed on his bottom lip. "Please Mikes? It'll be more fun if you're there. Please, for me?" He looked up at Mikey with wide innocent eyes that Bambi would be jealous of and Mikey just cracked.

"Okay, I'll go." Mikey would do anything for those eyes. "But you owe me a favour." he added with a challenging smirk.

Gerard met his gaze and his eyes narrowed, lips cracking into a grin. "Alright, deal."

"Good."

Gerard stared at his brother and his grin widened, then he laughed and shook his head, sitting up. He leant over and patted Mikey's cheek twice then jumped out of bed and headed to the door.

"Gee-" Mikey called.

Gerard paused in the doorway, turning to look at him with more hope in his eyes than would usually be present at the sound of his name. "Yeah?"

Mikey had no idea what he wanted to say. He just wanted Gerard to stay longer, he didn't want him to go and leave him, that was the only reason he called his name. Of course he couldn't say that though. He panicked. He improvised. "Thank you for the coffee."

Gerard smiled, looking slightly let down. "You're welcome." Then he walked out and shut the door behind him.

Great. So Mikey had lost the picture perfect morning after bed scene, lost the moment of deep understanding that very possibly could have gone somewhere, and would probably now lose Gerard to a smackhead slutfaced layabout. Back to normality.

But then normality's a very strange concept when you have an on/off sexual and/or emotional intoxication-triggered relationship with your brother.