Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Who Needs Money?
2 reviewsTrue richness isn't found with dollars. For Billie Joe Armstrong, it's found with Mikey Way. MIKILLIE one-shot. Read, review, rate and feel my love! :P
0Unrated
Who Needs Money?
He didn’t have enough change for the bus home from school one day, that’s how it started. It was cold, in the middle of an unforgiving Jersey winter, and he’d left his coat at home. He was skinny, too skinny for him to have any natural protection against the practically arctic winds that were making the poor little thing shudder on his long walk home. At least a mile from the school. Thankfully I spotted him from the road, a kid taking steps too slow for him to be in any sort of comfort. So I pulled over, convinced him that I wasn’t going to rape him and then gave him a life home. Before slipping him a quick ten bucks to ensure that it didn’t happen again upon seeing the quality of his rundown family home. Home? More like a dungeon.
The next time I saw him was two days later, walking home again. This time in the freshly falling snow, without any kind of overcoat on to keep his willowy figure protected from the venomous bites of the cold. Once more, I pulled over and offered him a lift, asking why he didn’t have bus money again. Turned out his parents are gamblers; every cent that isn’t spent on the bills goes straight to the slots. His big brother works part time in Starbucks so the two of them don’t starve, but other than that they have nothing. He started crying when he told me this, sobbing into the shoulder of some kind stranger offering him a way to let out his desperation before it killed him inside. This time when I dropped him off, I left him with my cell number. My number and my name; Billie Joe Armstrong. In return, he gave me his. Mikey Way.
It wasn’t long before I got my first text from Mikey. A few hours after giving him my number, actually. It wasn’t that anything was wrong; I think he was just lonely and wanted someone to chat to whilst his parents had the mother of all rows downstairs. I told him about myself, that I’m twenty-one and I live alone, that I play guitar every spare second I have and that my parents give me pretty much any amount of cash I need. He told me about himself, that he’s only sixteen and might as well live alone for the amount of caring attention he gets outside of Gerard when his big brother isn’t working or at his boyfriend’s, that he plays bass and that the only thing his parents ever give him is a quick clip around the face. And then his credit ran out, so I ran to his house after nipping to the local convenience store to get him some. When I got there though, he was already asleep and his big brother opened the door. A guy by the name of Gerard; we clicked together immediately. He treated me like some sort of god for helping his baby brother out. Said that I was welcome in their home anytime. That Mikey needed a good friend to look out for him.
That Saturday I took Mikes out for dinner at the most expensive restaurant I could find in the Belleville area, eager to get some meat on those poverty-stricken bones of his. I don’t know what it was about him that made me desperate to help, perhaps it was his sweetly innocent naivety or maybe his genuine kindness; either way, I soon found myself with a best friend five years younger than me but with the same levels of maturity as my parents. I guess that comes with having a hard life, one that I was determined to make him forget for at least that one night. It was one of my parents’ favourite places to eat, some fancy French bistro where the drinks probably cost more than Mikey’s shoes. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat so much in one sitting; the poor mite was half-starved when we got there. Looked like he was about to throw up by the time he was done. He was so full in fact, that the sweetheart fell asleep in my car, with his head resting on my shoulder, drooling slightly and sucking on his thumb like a baby. I think that’s when I realised something that came to shape the rest of my life for the better; I love Michael James Way.
Our first kiss didn’t come for another fair few months; it was his birthday and I’d helped Gerard to arrange some presents for the kid. All three of us went to the cinema, my credit card paying for every snack and ice-cream and drink that Mikes could possibly want. We were watching some cutting-edge horror, the kind that made Mikey jump and flinch like an overwound Jack-in-the-box. Gerard found his little brother’s terror at the onscreen monsters absolutely hilarious, I would have done too if I couldn’t see the kid visibly shaking every time someone so much as screamed. So I grabbed his hand, my heart skipping too many beats for it to be healthy when he clutched mine back. But then it got really scary, scary enough to cork Gee’s giggles, and Mikey’s eyes actually started to glaze over with a film of tears. I knew I had to distract him before his entire birthday, the first one involving presents and cake since he turned eight, got ruined; so I kissed him. A gentle peck on the lips at first, testing the water to see if he liked it as much as I did, and then a full-on feast of his face. The kind that made Gerard give me that sly smirk of his the second the movie was over. Reckoned he knew we liked each other all along.
I can remember when we bought our first apartment together. Mikes was only eighteen and I was twenty-three, Mikey’s looks making him appear to be even younger than he was and earning me a few strange looks from the estate agents. But that didn’t mar the fact that we found the perfect little home for us, a five minute walk from Gerard’s abode. Personally, I didn’t think much of the place. If anything, I found it to be a little too cramped for my tastes, but Mikes liked it. And that’s all I’ve ever cared about. Besides, I guess the smallness of it could be taken as snugness, as Mikey so put it. Mikes liked it, so that’s what we bought.
Before I met Mikey I took advantage of my money, I guess I still do a little, but now I know what it can really do; instead of blowing it on pointless shit or drugs or alcohol, I can put it to good use. To making my boyfriend happy.
I don’t think I need money to do that though. Not really.
A/N: I hope this is alright; Mikillie is one of those rare pairings that I just can’t get enough of, so I sincerely hope this did the pairing justice. I was a little distracted though, given that I just go a new hamster! His name is Wentz (after the Fall Out Boy bassist/lyricist, Pete Wentz) and he is very cute. Maybe even cuter than his namesake. Anyway…. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :)
He didn’t have enough change for the bus home from school one day, that’s how it started. It was cold, in the middle of an unforgiving Jersey winter, and he’d left his coat at home. He was skinny, too skinny for him to have any natural protection against the practically arctic winds that were making the poor little thing shudder on his long walk home. At least a mile from the school. Thankfully I spotted him from the road, a kid taking steps too slow for him to be in any sort of comfort. So I pulled over, convinced him that I wasn’t going to rape him and then gave him a life home. Before slipping him a quick ten bucks to ensure that it didn’t happen again upon seeing the quality of his rundown family home. Home? More like a dungeon.
The next time I saw him was two days later, walking home again. This time in the freshly falling snow, without any kind of overcoat on to keep his willowy figure protected from the venomous bites of the cold. Once more, I pulled over and offered him a lift, asking why he didn’t have bus money again. Turned out his parents are gamblers; every cent that isn’t spent on the bills goes straight to the slots. His big brother works part time in Starbucks so the two of them don’t starve, but other than that they have nothing. He started crying when he told me this, sobbing into the shoulder of some kind stranger offering him a way to let out his desperation before it killed him inside. This time when I dropped him off, I left him with my cell number. My number and my name; Billie Joe Armstrong. In return, he gave me his. Mikey Way.
It wasn’t long before I got my first text from Mikey. A few hours after giving him my number, actually. It wasn’t that anything was wrong; I think he was just lonely and wanted someone to chat to whilst his parents had the mother of all rows downstairs. I told him about myself, that I’m twenty-one and I live alone, that I play guitar every spare second I have and that my parents give me pretty much any amount of cash I need. He told me about himself, that he’s only sixteen and might as well live alone for the amount of caring attention he gets outside of Gerard when his big brother isn’t working or at his boyfriend’s, that he plays bass and that the only thing his parents ever give him is a quick clip around the face. And then his credit ran out, so I ran to his house after nipping to the local convenience store to get him some. When I got there though, he was already asleep and his big brother opened the door. A guy by the name of Gerard; we clicked together immediately. He treated me like some sort of god for helping his baby brother out. Said that I was welcome in their home anytime. That Mikey needed a good friend to look out for him.
That Saturday I took Mikes out for dinner at the most expensive restaurant I could find in the Belleville area, eager to get some meat on those poverty-stricken bones of his. I don’t know what it was about him that made me desperate to help, perhaps it was his sweetly innocent naivety or maybe his genuine kindness; either way, I soon found myself with a best friend five years younger than me but with the same levels of maturity as my parents. I guess that comes with having a hard life, one that I was determined to make him forget for at least that one night. It was one of my parents’ favourite places to eat, some fancy French bistro where the drinks probably cost more than Mikey’s shoes. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat so much in one sitting; the poor mite was half-starved when we got there. Looked like he was about to throw up by the time he was done. He was so full in fact, that the sweetheart fell asleep in my car, with his head resting on my shoulder, drooling slightly and sucking on his thumb like a baby. I think that’s when I realised something that came to shape the rest of my life for the better; I love Michael James Way.
Our first kiss didn’t come for another fair few months; it was his birthday and I’d helped Gerard to arrange some presents for the kid. All three of us went to the cinema, my credit card paying for every snack and ice-cream and drink that Mikes could possibly want. We were watching some cutting-edge horror, the kind that made Mikey jump and flinch like an overwound Jack-in-the-box. Gerard found his little brother’s terror at the onscreen monsters absolutely hilarious, I would have done too if I couldn’t see the kid visibly shaking every time someone so much as screamed. So I grabbed his hand, my heart skipping too many beats for it to be healthy when he clutched mine back. But then it got really scary, scary enough to cork Gee’s giggles, and Mikey’s eyes actually started to glaze over with a film of tears. I knew I had to distract him before his entire birthday, the first one involving presents and cake since he turned eight, got ruined; so I kissed him. A gentle peck on the lips at first, testing the water to see if he liked it as much as I did, and then a full-on feast of his face. The kind that made Gerard give me that sly smirk of his the second the movie was over. Reckoned he knew we liked each other all along.
I can remember when we bought our first apartment together. Mikes was only eighteen and I was twenty-three, Mikey’s looks making him appear to be even younger than he was and earning me a few strange looks from the estate agents. But that didn’t mar the fact that we found the perfect little home for us, a five minute walk from Gerard’s abode. Personally, I didn’t think much of the place. If anything, I found it to be a little too cramped for my tastes, but Mikes liked it. And that’s all I’ve ever cared about. Besides, I guess the smallness of it could be taken as snugness, as Mikey so put it. Mikes liked it, so that’s what we bought.
Before I met Mikey I took advantage of my money, I guess I still do a little, but now I know what it can really do; instead of blowing it on pointless shit or drugs or alcohol, I can put it to good use. To making my boyfriend happy.
I don’t think I need money to do that though. Not really.
A/N: I hope this is alright; Mikillie is one of those rare pairings that I just can’t get enough of, so I sincerely hope this did the pairing justice. I was a little distracted though, given that I just go a new hamster! His name is Wentz (after the Fall Out Boy bassist/lyricist, Pete Wentz) and he is very cute. Maybe even cuter than his namesake. Anyway…. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :)
Sign up to rate and review this story