Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Do You Love Me?
4 reviewsIt would've been perfect. If it weren't for Them. Short PIKEY one-shot. Read, review, rate and feel my love! :P
1Ambiance
They tease him. I know they do. And I’m not just talking the odd giggle about the time he tripped over his own feet in the hallway. I’m talking relentless, day-in-day-out tormenting, the kind that leaves a kid thinking that he’s worthless.
No, not thinking it. Believing it.
To the point where he won’t believe me whenever I tell him otherwise.
He doesn’t outright say that he thinks I’m talking a load of bullshit whenever I tell him just how much I love him and how perfect he is, but he doesn’t need to; it’s in his eyes, shimmering below the surface a flock of daggers flying through the sky and straight into my heart. No matter how many times I cuddle him close and whisper nice things to him, no matter how often I explain to him that they are the worthless ones for feeling like they need to make him cry in order to feel better about themselves, he will never believe me. Because I’m just one person trying to change the direction of the tide of hatred that too many kids have forced into motion.
Which is why moments like these, like this one right now, are so important.
We’re lying under our tree, my arm around his broad shoulders and his head nestled into my chest, the sun glinting off of us like we’re diamonds. If only my Mikey could see that though, could see that he’s worth more than any stupid little stone. Maybe not to everyone else, but to me at least.
I trickle my fingers through the feathery down of his chocolate hair, doing the affectionate gesture slowly so that I can relish the way it feels like gold dust against my skin, and then start trailing whimsical patterns on his tummy. Tummy. That’s what he says. Never stomach or gut or waist, just tummy. Like a little kid. Because that’s what he is; a little kid with the innocence to match. Definitely not the sort of person who deserves to come over to me in the parking lot every day after school with tears trailing down his cheeks and a new fragment torn out of his self-esteem, leaving me to try to calm him down as I drive him home.
That’s why we’re out here under out tree. I decided that he needed a day off, as yesterday had been particularly rough on him, and that we should bunk off together. Of course he’d taken some convincing, what with him being the sensible little genius that he is, but eventually the allure of a day without being laughed and simply being cuddled instead won out over the idea of living through the hell of school again.
“Peterpanda?”
I look down at his quiet little mewl, surprising me slightly because I half expected him to be asleep by now, what with the way he was texting me all night after having a horrible nightmare. Something that I blame on the bullies because, before they started on him, he used to be a perfectly happy kid without a worry in the world. In fact, I wish he was asleep. At least then he’d be getting some rest in a place where he feels safe as opposed to having to wait until tonight for another nightmare to claim his fractious little head.
“Yeah, Sweetness, I’m listening.” I reply softly, my hand still drawing little figures of eight on his scrawny little tummy.
“Do you love me?”
If it wasn’t for the fact that he sounds deadly serious and close to tears, I’d laugh at the ridiculousness of his question. Apart from he does sound serious, something that breaks my heart with the fact that he even has to ask me something I thought I’d made clear to him too many times to doubt.
“Mikey, Sweetness, I love you more than anything else in this life. Even more than Gerard loves comic books, even more Patrick loves hats; even more than anyone has ever loved anything.” My words are strong but my voice is shaking with sorrow because I shouldn’t have to be saying this honest statement of sincerity. He should just know. “I love you more than even I can put into words.”
I nuzzle into the back of his head, knowing that words simply aren’t strong enough anymore to get through to him, and trail my hand up his chest until it’s resting over his heart. Over the precious organ that I have to keep beating because it’s synonymous with my own ticker.
“I love you, Mikey Way. Don’t you ever doubt it.”
A few moments of silence drift on past us, filled with nothing but me nipping gently at Mikey’s neck with my mouth and relishing the soft little sighs that fly from his mouth every time I do it just right. I adore days like these, where nothing can hurt him and the only bruises he’ll be going home with are from where I occasionally nip or suck too hard on his tender skin. He says he likes it though, it says they make him feel like he’s important and that they show people that at least one person in the world loves him.
Apart from he’s questioning that. And I don’t know why.
“Why d’you ask, Sweetness?” I whisper quietly, just in case he’s managed to snuggle himself to sleep against my chest like he has so many wondrous times before.
He simply shrugs against me, making my heart drop because I need to know. How else am I meant to make sure he never asks something so heartbreakingly hurtful ever again?
“No, tell me, Sweetness. I need to know.” I bury my lips into the feathery jungle of his hair and press a soft kiss down, my usual way of getting what I want from him. “I promise I won’t get mad or laugh or anything like that. Just, please, Mikey, tell me.”
“Th-they told me you don’t. Said you’re gonna realise who I am and leave me.” He rushes the words out as though ashamed that people pick on him and immediate fury scorches it’s relentless way into my heart; how fucking dare they?
There’s childhood teasing and then there’s this. Victimizing, pure and unbridled cruelty towards someone who sure as hell doesn’t deserve it. Yet he thinks he does, because they’ve made him believe that. Like they’ve almost made him believe that I’m going to leave him at any given second. As if I ever could, even if he didn’t want me anymore nothing could ever stop from wanting my lanky little bassist.
“I’m never leaving you, Mikey. I love you way too much for that. Don’t ever listen to a word they say, Sweetness. They’re just some stupid liars who’ll grow up to be douche-bags and drug addicts who are never happy with what they got.” I pause, trying to defuse the anger bubbling inside of me before I start shouting and scaring Mikes like I did last time someone picked on him too much. “Because they’ll never be loved as much as I love you. And I only love you more and more each day because every day I wake up happy to be alive because I know that being alive means I get to be with you.”
There’s a prolonged silence, the kind that makes my heart explode like a firecracker because it’s full of nothing but Mikey’s disbelieving beam of bliss.
“God, you’re sexy when you smile.” I let the comment slip out, knowing that it’ll make him blush like the little kid he is.
He giggles a little, showing no indication of all of the doubt that was causing chaos inside his pretty little head just minutes ago. Good.
“I love you, Peterpanda.” He sighs, reaching up to stroke my face like he always does whenever he wants to feel the skin of his own personal teddy bear. “I’m lucky to have you.”
“Right back at ya, Sweetness.”
A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope that this is alright. Sorry if it’s not all that great; I spent yesterday sleeping, puking and watching old Rugrats DVDs so my mind is still pretty scrambled. Anyway, please let me know what you think! :)
No, not thinking it. Believing it.
To the point where he won’t believe me whenever I tell him otherwise.
He doesn’t outright say that he thinks I’m talking a load of bullshit whenever I tell him just how much I love him and how perfect he is, but he doesn’t need to; it’s in his eyes, shimmering below the surface a flock of daggers flying through the sky and straight into my heart. No matter how many times I cuddle him close and whisper nice things to him, no matter how often I explain to him that they are the worthless ones for feeling like they need to make him cry in order to feel better about themselves, he will never believe me. Because I’m just one person trying to change the direction of the tide of hatred that too many kids have forced into motion.
Which is why moments like these, like this one right now, are so important.
We’re lying under our tree, my arm around his broad shoulders and his head nestled into my chest, the sun glinting off of us like we’re diamonds. If only my Mikey could see that though, could see that he’s worth more than any stupid little stone. Maybe not to everyone else, but to me at least.
I trickle my fingers through the feathery down of his chocolate hair, doing the affectionate gesture slowly so that I can relish the way it feels like gold dust against my skin, and then start trailing whimsical patterns on his tummy. Tummy. That’s what he says. Never stomach or gut or waist, just tummy. Like a little kid. Because that’s what he is; a little kid with the innocence to match. Definitely not the sort of person who deserves to come over to me in the parking lot every day after school with tears trailing down his cheeks and a new fragment torn out of his self-esteem, leaving me to try to calm him down as I drive him home.
That’s why we’re out here under out tree. I decided that he needed a day off, as yesterday had been particularly rough on him, and that we should bunk off together. Of course he’d taken some convincing, what with him being the sensible little genius that he is, but eventually the allure of a day without being laughed and simply being cuddled instead won out over the idea of living through the hell of school again.
“Peterpanda?”
I look down at his quiet little mewl, surprising me slightly because I half expected him to be asleep by now, what with the way he was texting me all night after having a horrible nightmare. Something that I blame on the bullies because, before they started on him, he used to be a perfectly happy kid without a worry in the world. In fact, I wish he was asleep. At least then he’d be getting some rest in a place where he feels safe as opposed to having to wait until tonight for another nightmare to claim his fractious little head.
“Yeah, Sweetness, I’m listening.” I reply softly, my hand still drawing little figures of eight on his scrawny little tummy.
“Do you love me?”
If it wasn’t for the fact that he sounds deadly serious and close to tears, I’d laugh at the ridiculousness of his question. Apart from he does sound serious, something that breaks my heart with the fact that he even has to ask me something I thought I’d made clear to him too many times to doubt.
“Mikey, Sweetness, I love you more than anything else in this life. Even more than Gerard loves comic books, even more Patrick loves hats; even more than anyone has ever loved anything.” My words are strong but my voice is shaking with sorrow because I shouldn’t have to be saying this honest statement of sincerity. He should just know. “I love you more than even I can put into words.”
I nuzzle into the back of his head, knowing that words simply aren’t strong enough anymore to get through to him, and trail my hand up his chest until it’s resting over his heart. Over the precious organ that I have to keep beating because it’s synonymous with my own ticker.
“I love you, Mikey Way. Don’t you ever doubt it.”
A few moments of silence drift on past us, filled with nothing but me nipping gently at Mikey’s neck with my mouth and relishing the soft little sighs that fly from his mouth every time I do it just right. I adore days like these, where nothing can hurt him and the only bruises he’ll be going home with are from where I occasionally nip or suck too hard on his tender skin. He says he likes it though, it says they make him feel like he’s important and that they show people that at least one person in the world loves him.
Apart from he’s questioning that. And I don’t know why.
“Why d’you ask, Sweetness?” I whisper quietly, just in case he’s managed to snuggle himself to sleep against my chest like he has so many wondrous times before.
He simply shrugs against me, making my heart drop because I need to know. How else am I meant to make sure he never asks something so heartbreakingly hurtful ever again?
“No, tell me, Sweetness. I need to know.” I bury my lips into the feathery jungle of his hair and press a soft kiss down, my usual way of getting what I want from him. “I promise I won’t get mad or laugh or anything like that. Just, please, Mikey, tell me.”
“Th-they told me you don’t. Said you’re gonna realise who I am and leave me.” He rushes the words out as though ashamed that people pick on him and immediate fury scorches it’s relentless way into my heart; how fucking dare they?
There’s childhood teasing and then there’s this. Victimizing, pure and unbridled cruelty towards someone who sure as hell doesn’t deserve it. Yet he thinks he does, because they’ve made him believe that. Like they’ve almost made him believe that I’m going to leave him at any given second. As if I ever could, even if he didn’t want me anymore nothing could ever stop from wanting my lanky little bassist.
“I’m never leaving you, Mikey. I love you way too much for that. Don’t ever listen to a word they say, Sweetness. They’re just some stupid liars who’ll grow up to be douche-bags and drug addicts who are never happy with what they got.” I pause, trying to defuse the anger bubbling inside of me before I start shouting and scaring Mikes like I did last time someone picked on him too much. “Because they’ll never be loved as much as I love you. And I only love you more and more each day because every day I wake up happy to be alive because I know that being alive means I get to be with you.”
There’s a prolonged silence, the kind that makes my heart explode like a firecracker because it’s full of nothing but Mikey’s disbelieving beam of bliss.
“God, you’re sexy when you smile.” I let the comment slip out, knowing that it’ll make him blush like the little kid he is.
He giggles a little, showing no indication of all of the doubt that was causing chaos inside his pretty little head just minutes ago. Good.
“I love you, Peterpanda.” He sighs, reaching up to stroke my face like he always does whenever he wants to feel the skin of his own personal teddy bear. “I’m lucky to have you.”
“Right back at ya, Sweetness.”
A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope that this is alright. Sorry if it’s not all that great; I spent yesterday sleeping, puking and watching old Rugrats DVDs so my mind is still pretty scrambled. Anyway, please let me know what you think! :)
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