Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Rope Burn
Tuesday passed very similarly. So did Wednesday.
Mikey arrived home on Wednesday drunk, another after-work time-killing session in Terra under his belt.
Gerard was already home. Gerard was already drunk.
When Mikey fell through the front door again and stumbled into the living room, the first thing his eyes fell on was his brother sat on the couch with his body slumped and an almost empty bottle of Malibu on the coffee table. Had he been sober, Mikey would have been alarmed and concerned at Gerard's state. However, he wasn't, so instead the very sight of Gerard sent him into a burning rage.
That motherfucker thought he could fucking use Mikey and make him believe he cared when actually he was fucking around with some sleazeball crackhead and didn't give a shit? No. Hell no.
Mikey snarled and walked straight over, hands clenched at his sides.
As soon as he sensed movement and saw it was Mikey, Gerard stood up and walked forward, meeting his brother in the middle of the room, all set jaw and fighting glare. Mikey stared him down, anger and disgust curling his lips and mirrored the confrontation in his brother's eyes.
He grabbed Gerard by his shirt, fisting his hands in it and pulling him forward, nose to nose.
"You." he growled, shaking with rage, his knuckles burning for release and his eyes dark and dangerous.
Gerard tipped his head back a fraction, defiantly, cockily, still staring Mikey down.
"You fucking..." Mikey spat, then hit a block in his throat, unable to find a word strong and ugly enough for him. He glared at Gerard, his teeth bared, and his eyes flicked to Gerard's lips, before back up to his eyes.
But Gerard wasn't staring him down anymore. His lips were parted and he was panting lightly, his eyes focussed on Mikey's neck, on the rise and fall of his pulse. He felt the glare and looked back up to Mikey's eyes, the same burning intensity.
Mikey growled again, low and loud and brutal, and he grabbed at Gerard's belt, yanking it off and throwing it away then ripping open his jeans and pulling them down. Gerard had the same idea and tugged Mikey's shirt messily over his head then pulled open his button and zip, not once looking at his face. With a short fight for dominance, Mikey shoved Gerard backwards onto the couch then pushed his jeans down his thighs and roughly straddled him.
Nose to nose again, panting, Mikey growling and Gerard snarling, they spared each other one look in the eyes before Mikey rammed Gerard against the back of the couch and shoved into him.
And then everything was gritted teeth and violent thrusts and feral groans.
Immediately after he came, Mikey got off Gerard and pulled his trousers up. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he threw a cold glance at his brother, sweat-slick and choked for breath on the couch before he walked off to his room, leaving his shirt on the living room floor.
A/N: So these last two chapters (and the next few) have been quite short, definitely when compared to my usual ones, and that isn't through a writer's block or lax attitude. I want it to come across in the very narrative structure that Gerard is such a huge part of Mikey's life and so much depends on him that when he and Mikey are arguing and Gerard isn't a part of Mikey's life, it's very empty and monotonous and there's a huge hole and nothing means as much. So while they're not getting along, the story is slightly empty and monotonous, if you see what I mean.
Mikey arrived home on Wednesday drunk, another after-work time-killing session in Terra under his belt.
Gerard was already home. Gerard was already drunk.
When Mikey fell through the front door again and stumbled into the living room, the first thing his eyes fell on was his brother sat on the couch with his body slumped and an almost empty bottle of Malibu on the coffee table. Had he been sober, Mikey would have been alarmed and concerned at Gerard's state. However, he wasn't, so instead the very sight of Gerard sent him into a burning rage.
That motherfucker thought he could fucking use Mikey and make him believe he cared when actually he was fucking around with some sleazeball crackhead and didn't give a shit? No. Hell no.
Mikey snarled and walked straight over, hands clenched at his sides.
As soon as he sensed movement and saw it was Mikey, Gerard stood up and walked forward, meeting his brother in the middle of the room, all set jaw and fighting glare. Mikey stared him down, anger and disgust curling his lips and mirrored the confrontation in his brother's eyes.
He grabbed Gerard by his shirt, fisting his hands in it and pulling him forward, nose to nose.
"You." he growled, shaking with rage, his knuckles burning for release and his eyes dark and dangerous.
Gerard tipped his head back a fraction, defiantly, cockily, still staring Mikey down.
"You fucking..." Mikey spat, then hit a block in his throat, unable to find a word strong and ugly enough for him. He glared at Gerard, his teeth bared, and his eyes flicked to Gerard's lips, before back up to his eyes.
But Gerard wasn't staring him down anymore. His lips were parted and he was panting lightly, his eyes focussed on Mikey's neck, on the rise and fall of his pulse. He felt the glare and looked back up to Mikey's eyes, the same burning intensity.
Mikey growled again, low and loud and brutal, and he grabbed at Gerard's belt, yanking it off and throwing it away then ripping open his jeans and pulling them down. Gerard had the same idea and tugged Mikey's shirt messily over his head then pulled open his button and zip, not once looking at his face. With a short fight for dominance, Mikey shoved Gerard backwards onto the couch then pushed his jeans down his thighs and roughly straddled him.
Nose to nose again, panting, Mikey growling and Gerard snarling, they spared each other one look in the eyes before Mikey rammed Gerard against the back of the couch and shoved into him.
And then everything was gritted teeth and violent thrusts and feral groans.
Immediately after he came, Mikey got off Gerard and pulled his trousers up. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he threw a cold glance at his brother, sweat-slick and choked for breath on the couch before he walked off to his room, leaving his shirt on the living room floor.
A/N: So these last two chapters (and the next few) have been quite short, definitely when compared to my usual ones, and that isn't through a writer's block or lax attitude. I want it to come across in the very narrative structure that Gerard is such a huge part of Mikey's life and so much depends on him that when he and Mikey are arguing and Gerard isn't a part of Mikey's life, it's very empty and monotonous and there's a huge hole and nothing means as much. So while they're not getting along, the story is slightly empty and monotonous, if you see what I mean.
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