Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Cubicles
Outside
I beam happily to myself as I pull my old, rusted penknife out of the solid bark of the ancient oak tree. Our tree. The tree that’s mine and Mikey’s and no-one else’s. Especially now that I’ve branded it as our own; our own shelter from the society that has shunned us as much as we shun it. Or rather, as much as I shun it on my Mikey’s behalf seeing as he’s far too sweet and innocent to ever see any bad thing that happens to him as someone else’s fault. I think that’s why he’s such an easy target, my Mikey, because he’s just too benevolently benign to ever try to fight back or even get away before it’s too late. Not that he should ever have to; he’s far too perfectly adorable to ever have to put up with how other people treat him.
It’s hard to believe that just two months ago I was holed up in some grotty little dungeon, speaking to a spider to pass the time before the lunch bell. Now I spend all of my free time, including after school, under the tree at the far left of the school field, just hugging and cuddling and snuggling my Mikey; my boyfriend. We’ve been going out for the past month or so now, just being together and rebuilding one another’s spirit. He’s made me less of an anti-social weirdo and I’ve, well, I think that I’ve very nearly fixed the delicate porcelain doll that the world has been stupid enough to smash. For the first few weeks of me being his friend, of me being his personal bodyguard, he’d barely talk to me or even look me in the eye; turned out that whenever he spoke back to the bullies, a group of huge seniors picking on a lanky little lamb, they’d just kick him harder, until he couldn’t speak anymore. I soon fixed that though, soon showed him that I’m most certainly not the sort of person who’ll ever lay a finger on him in a violent manner. I love him too much for that.
We started eating lunch together, under our tree so that nobody else would find us, and that’s when I noticed it; my Mikey just doesn’t eat. Not at all. Not ever. And nobody ever even noticed until he practically passed-out against me in the vicious heat of the summer, causing me to force my own sandwiches into his mouth every day through absolute fear of him wasting away into the nothing that I’ll never let him become. After all, he’s my boyfriend and I’d rather be sent to purgatory than live a life without my sweet little angel. Just the thought of the starvation that he forced himself through in an effort to be “perfect” makes my insides melt into arsenic and flood into my corneas; I really do care about the boy, and just the idea of him being hurt in any way, let alone by his own hand, makes me feel like a horrible failure. Because it’s my job now to take care of him like he needs to be taken care of and, in return, he makes my life all the more liveable just by being in it.
I even have something of a social life now, thanks to Mikey’s big brother Gerard. At first I feared for my life whenever I was in a room alone with the guy; the looks he shot me when I first cuddled Mikes in front of him were enough to make even me, the arrogant oddball, quake in terror at the almost animalistic snarls he’d give to accompany the glares. But that’s fine, if anything it makes me like Gerard all the more because it means that he really does care about my Mikey, about my world. Eventually we got past the fact that he’ll slaughter anyone who dares to hurt his baby brother when he realised that I’ll never be one of those people. Now Gee and I are like partners in crime, always looking out for my Mikey and constantly keeping a, somewhat paranoid, eye on the other. But it works; in fact, Gee’s been known to tag along on a few of mine and Mikey’s dates, not in creepy way, rather in a way that we’re three best friends hanging out together.
“You like it, Sweetness?” I grin proudly to my boyfriend, pointing at the carving I’ve just made with all of the mannerisms of an overjoyed toddler showing his mommy his latest finger painting. “See, now whenever anyone looks at this tree, they’ll know that it’s ours; that it’s ‘Mikey W. and Frankie I. forever.’”
I giggle at his goofy smile, a smile that means so much more than anyone else’s purely because with I know that it actually means something; that it actually means that he’s been made happy through my actions.
“I love it, Frankie!” He whispers, his eyes welling up as he gazes at the tree’s new tattoo that will be there as long as we’re together; forever. “Not as much as I love you, though.” His words aren’t dripping with clichéd cheesiness like they would be coming from anyone else, they’re doused with the kind of sincerity that makes me fall to my knees next to him and pull him lightly into my chest.
He snuggles up tightly into me, his skinny frame slotting easily into my open arms like we were designed to fit together. Perhaps we were; perhaps there are such things as gods and angels, there must be for two people to be made so specifically for each other as Mikes and I are.
“I love you more.” I smirk down at him, wiping a puppy-dog lick up his nose for good measure; he likes it when I do that.
Fuck it, I like it when I do that; it makes him blush in the most heart-stoppingly cute way and he just tastes so damn perfect, like everything that I love about life rolled up into one stunning flavour.
I can remember the first and only time I licked Mikes in front of Gee. It was in the queue for the cinema and Mikey had slush-puppy splattered on his nose for some reason or other, the end result was me being a proper gentleman that I am by licking it off. Of course, Gerard looked like he was about to garrotte me with his straw because, let’s face it, who wants to see their ‘innocent’ baby brother having their face cleaned by the not-so-innocent tongue of a punk-kid who lets aforementioned tongue wander around a little too slowly? Besides, Gee isn’t a huge fan of seeing me being all romantic (if you can call licking someone’s face romantic) with his little brother through some sort of fear of me breaking the kid’s heart. Not that I ever would; even if he ever does stop loving me, I’ll never let my Mikey go.
“Nu-uh!” He yells back, sounding almost as childlike as someone as sweet as him should do.
Our eyes lock onto one another’s and I can see that stunning glint in his indulgent irises that tells me I’m doing a good job; that he’s feeling as good as he should always be feeling despite what other people may think.
But before that thought can infect my mind and ruin the moment I swoop my lips down swiftly onto his, the force of the action making him fall back in my arms so that I’m practically on top of him like a wild fire. I love the way he kisses back, making every part of me tingle with pleasure at the way we both fight for the dominance that we both know I will always have; I love the way he tastes, reminding me that the world really is a wonderful place if you just know where to look; I love the way that I can feel his heartbeat reflecting straight off of my ribcage, making me know that I’m not alone.
Not anymore.
Because Mikey Way bought me outside, showed me the light of love.
And I’ve never been happier.
A/N: Thank you very much for reading and I hope that it was alright. Sorry that it was kinda short and crappy. :)
I beam happily to myself as I pull my old, rusted penknife out of the solid bark of the ancient oak tree. Our tree. The tree that’s mine and Mikey’s and no-one else’s. Especially now that I’ve branded it as our own; our own shelter from the society that has shunned us as much as we shun it. Or rather, as much as I shun it on my Mikey’s behalf seeing as he’s far too sweet and innocent to ever see any bad thing that happens to him as someone else’s fault. I think that’s why he’s such an easy target, my Mikey, because he’s just too benevolently benign to ever try to fight back or even get away before it’s too late. Not that he should ever have to; he’s far too perfectly adorable to ever have to put up with how other people treat him.
It’s hard to believe that just two months ago I was holed up in some grotty little dungeon, speaking to a spider to pass the time before the lunch bell. Now I spend all of my free time, including after school, under the tree at the far left of the school field, just hugging and cuddling and snuggling my Mikey; my boyfriend. We’ve been going out for the past month or so now, just being together and rebuilding one another’s spirit. He’s made me less of an anti-social weirdo and I’ve, well, I think that I’ve very nearly fixed the delicate porcelain doll that the world has been stupid enough to smash. For the first few weeks of me being his friend, of me being his personal bodyguard, he’d barely talk to me or even look me in the eye; turned out that whenever he spoke back to the bullies, a group of huge seniors picking on a lanky little lamb, they’d just kick him harder, until he couldn’t speak anymore. I soon fixed that though, soon showed him that I’m most certainly not the sort of person who’ll ever lay a finger on him in a violent manner. I love him too much for that.
We started eating lunch together, under our tree so that nobody else would find us, and that’s when I noticed it; my Mikey just doesn’t eat. Not at all. Not ever. And nobody ever even noticed until he practically passed-out against me in the vicious heat of the summer, causing me to force my own sandwiches into his mouth every day through absolute fear of him wasting away into the nothing that I’ll never let him become. After all, he’s my boyfriend and I’d rather be sent to purgatory than live a life without my sweet little angel. Just the thought of the starvation that he forced himself through in an effort to be “perfect” makes my insides melt into arsenic and flood into my corneas; I really do care about the boy, and just the idea of him being hurt in any way, let alone by his own hand, makes me feel like a horrible failure. Because it’s my job now to take care of him like he needs to be taken care of and, in return, he makes my life all the more liveable just by being in it.
I even have something of a social life now, thanks to Mikey’s big brother Gerard. At first I feared for my life whenever I was in a room alone with the guy; the looks he shot me when I first cuddled Mikes in front of him were enough to make even me, the arrogant oddball, quake in terror at the almost animalistic snarls he’d give to accompany the glares. But that’s fine, if anything it makes me like Gerard all the more because it means that he really does care about my Mikey, about my world. Eventually we got past the fact that he’ll slaughter anyone who dares to hurt his baby brother when he realised that I’ll never be one of those people. Now Gee and I are like partners in crime, always looking out for my Mikey and constantly keeping a, somewhat paranoid, eye on the other. But it works; in fact, Gee’s been known to tag along on a few of mine and Mikey’s dates, not in creepy way, rather in a way that we’re three best friends hanging out together.
“You like it, Sweetness?” I grin proudly to my boyfriend, pointing at the carving I’ve just made with all of the mannerisms of an overjoyed toddler showing his mommy his latest finger painting. “See, now whenever anyone looks at this tree, they’ll know that it’s ours; that it’s ‘Mikey W. and Frankie I. forever.’”
I giggle at his goofy smile, a smile that means so much more than anyone else’s purely because with I know that it actually means something; that it actually means that he’s been made happy through my actions.
“I love it, Frankie!” He whispers, his eyes welling up as he gazes at the tree’s new tattoo that will be there as long as we’re together; forever. “Not as much as I love you, though.” His words aren’t dripping with clichéd cheesiness like they would be coming from anyone else, they’re doused with the kind of sincerity that makes me fall to my knees next to him and pull him lightly into my chest.
He snuggles up tightly into me, his skinny frame slotting easily into my open arms like we were designed to fit together. Perhaps we were; perhaps there are such things as gods and angels, there must be for two people to be made so specifically for each other as Mikes and I are.
“I love you more.” I smirk down at him, wiping a puppy-dog lick up his nose for good measure; he likes it when I do that.
Fuck it, I like it when I do that; it makes him blush in the most heart-stoppingly cute way and he just tastes so damn perfect, like everything that I love about life rolled up into one stunning flavour.
I can remember the first and only time I licked Mikes in front of Gee. It was in the queue for the cinema and Mikey had slush-puppy splattered on his nose for some reason or other, the end result was me being a proper gentleman that I am by licking it off. Of course, Gerard looked like he was about to garrotte me with his straw because, let’s face it, who wants to see their ‘innocent’ baby brother having their face cleaned by the not-so-innocent tongue of a punk-kid who lets aforementioned tongue wander around a little too slowly? Besides, Gee isn’t a huge fan of seeing me being all romantic (if you can call licking someone’s face romantic) with his little brother through some sort of fear of me breaking the kid’s heart. Not that I ever would; even if he ever does stop loving me, I’ll never let my Mikey go.
“Nu-uh!” He yells back, sounding almost as childlike as someone as sweet as him should do.
Our eyes lock onto one another’s and I can see that stunning glint in his indulgent irises that tells me I’m doing a good job; that he’s feeling as good as he should always be feeling despite what other people may think.
But before that thought can infect my mind and ruin the moment I swoop my lips down swiftly onto his, the force of the action making him fall back in my arms so that I’m practically on top of him like a wild fire. I love the way he kisses back, making every part of me tingle with pleasure at the way we both fight for the dominance that we both know I will always have; I love the way he tastes, reminding me that the world really is a wonderful place if you just know where to look; I love the way that I can feel his heartbeat reflecting straight off of my ribcage, making me know that I’m not alone.
Not anymore.
Because Mikey Way bought me outside, showed me the light of love.
And I’ve never been happier.
A/N: Thank you very much for reading and I hope that it was alright. Sorry that it was kinda short and crappy. :)
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