Let Me Love You
“Gee thinks we’ve done It, y’know?”
I can’t help but snort incredulously at my boyfriend’s sudden chirp of vocalisation, his giggled words breaking through that strange near-awkward silence that always occurs at the end of a truly awful movie. But it’s the kind of silence that has long stopped being awkward between us; Mikey always just curls up into my side, head tightly pressed to be in my lap and I simply snake my arms around my cute little baby. Sometimes we’ll kiss and make-out in a tangle of hot, sweaty limbs; other times we’ll purely snuggle up together, taking the time to enjoy being with our most loved one in the world.
The idea just put forward of his big brother, a guy who I’m happy to call my best friend and near-brother-in-law, thinking that I’ve gone as far as to take away his baby brother’s naively adorable innocence, though, is absolutely ridiculous. I may be sixteen, and a pretty dirty sixteen-year-old at that, but not even I, Gabe Saporta, could lead such a sweet little angel into being so impure. Don’t get me wrong; I’ll grope, grab and bite, but I want his first time to be special. Not to mention legal; he’s only thirteen, after all.
“Doesn’t surprise me if I’m honest, Mymi.” He glows blood-bright at the nickname, abbreviated from him being ‘My Mikey’, which he is. Always will be. “I am well aware of my own reputation, Baby.”
My reputation. The one thing that very nearly made Mrs Way kick me out of her house the second she saw me practically molesting her youngest son atop the family dining table. I think that was the closest I came to stealing his innocence, something that I’m sincerely glad didn’t happen because he’s still too young to fully be able to understand what it entails and embodies. Also too young for him to be able to cope with the pain that I’d most likely inflict upon his cute little ass.
Back to the original anecdote; I’d been in a rather incriminating position, to put it lightly, and his mom walked in. Followed by his big brother, who looked to be torn between bursting with pride, erupting into giggles or throwing up his half-eaten fluffernutter sandwich. His mother, however, wasn’t any of those things. Just pure furious. Largely because of the rumour that had been flying around at the time that I’d managed to get six separate girls pregnant, all within three days of each other. A rumour that, whilst extremely believable, was utter bullshit. So she grabbed me by the scruff of my hair, shirt long-since removed, and dragged me to the front door, yelling curse-words at me all the while. Until Gerard cursed at her, made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t taking advantage of Mikey and that I was, in actual fact, perfect for her son. She let me go and I ran to Mikes, who was shaking and whimpering in shock, in shame. In fear.
You see, Mikey Way gets beaten up at school. Horribly so. To the point where the poor little lamb has to come to me for my special massages that rub out all of the agony and tension his muscles, erase the aching in his limbs like only my hands are allowed to. It’s been going on for so long now, longer than even Gerard can remember, and it’s really taken a toll on my pretty little angel’s mentality. It’s not only a huge contributing factor to the Depression that he has to take medication for every day, the kind that Gee and I monitor closely to make sure he doesn’t take one too many like he tried to when he was first diagnosed, but it has also made him extremely jumpy. Meaning that when his mom completely lost it in front of him, almost acting violent toward me, the poor thing was absolutely petrified. Something that very nearly made me punch his mom as hard as I possibly could, but I didn’t because I, unlike the woman who raised him, understand what to do to keep him safe and happy and everything else that my baby always deserves to be.
But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that we’re chilling together, having fun being two kids in love. So in love that, as clichéd as it may sound, it hurts whenever we’re not together. Like half of my heart has been ripped away and hidden in the other, rougher part of town.
“I know, I know, but… Well, he does kind of have a point.”
I snap my head down to my boyfriend, glasses slightly askew at the tip of his nose from where his face was nestled into my side. I just gawp; it’s the most I can bring myself to do. What with the confusion and complete, utter shock at what my sweet, innocent baby might possibly be suggesting.
“Whatcha mean, Mymi?” I coo, my voice wavering with the strain of trying to sound nonchalant.
How can I sound nonchalant when having a conversation with someone whose pants are calling to my dick every time I’m within a meter of my boy, but whose calls I can’t answer through pure, self-respecting decency? Wow. I think I just confused myself. But the point still stands; Mikey’s a little kid and I’m almost an adult. And I love him, making it my responsibility to make sure that he’s happy and that his first time is something that he truly wants and will never regret. No matter how much I wanted to fuck him the second I saw him; in the queue at the local charity shop, where all the old people in Belleville would see.
He smirks at me, that dirty little smirk that he puts on whenever he wants to prove to me that he isn’t as innocent as I stupidly see him as. It’s the smirk that always makes me come dangerously close to losing control of my infamous wandering hands and lust-drunk body.
“I mean, Gabey-Baby, why haven’t you fucked me yet? We’ve been together for over five months now.” His tone is obviously meant to sound seductive, and it really fucking does, but it also sounds ever so slightly nervous. Like he’s scared of the answer that could only ever be full of love-conjured care. “Is… Is there something wrong with me?”
Before I can even actually tell myself to do it, my lips are pressed tightly against his. No tongues, no nipping, no grabbing with sex-starved hands; just lips on lips. Love on love. Hope on desperation.
“Don’t you ever think that there’s something wrong with you, Mikey J. Way.” I whisper once I know my lips have done all they can for my insecure little baby. “You’re perfect just the way you are.” I sigh, letting my thoughts regroup at the sight of his blatantly disbelieving eyes. Eyes that usually make my heart burst, not break. “I just wanna take this nice and slow, Mikey. You’re still real young; you’ve got to be sure you’re ready before I let us go further. It’s not that I don’t want to, I really do, I just want it to be special. I want you to not regret it.”
There’s a pained silence. It tells me all I need to know; I haven’t said the right thing. I’ve fucked up where I really can’t afford to.
“It’s because I’m Depressed, isn’t it?” The hideously heartfelt question comes out as a biting whisper, a statement not of spite but what he honestly believes to be fact. “You don’t wanna be responsible for fucking me up even more, right? It’s fine if that’s it, you don’t have to lie to me, Gabe.”
With that a tiny tear trickles down his face like a crack splitting down the middle of a diamond; that’s what he is. A broken jewel. A jewel that I let get broken. A jewel that’s broken pieces are gouging out my heart in a prolonged way, as though making it hurt all the more. So I scoop him up into my chest, my hands rubbing small circles on his bony back.
I’ve got to make him see sense. It’s my job. I, Gabe Saporta, took a vow when I asked him to be my boyfriend; to never let him cry when I can make it all better. And even when I can’t.
“No, Mikey.” I’m not all that surprised to find my voice is shaking, slithering around in my throat to climb around the lump fast building in it, and I try to swallow past the shakes; the last thing he needs is a guilt-trip from hearing me cry. “You being Depressed doesn’t make you any less lovable, Baby. Nor does it make you any less human; it just means that you’re a little different. It just makes you even more you.” I smile down at him when he dares to poke his head out of the nest he’s formed in my Misfits t-shirt. “And it’s you I love. Love enough to want to wait before I take you to places you never even knew existed. Before I make you sweat and scream and beg.” His eyes shine in pleasure at the idea, little hands gripping me all the more tightly in lustful longing for something that, at three years older than his thirteen-year-old self, I shouldn’t even be suggesting to him. “Trust me, Baby; I’ll make it happen for you. But you also gotta trust me when I say you aren’t ready. You’re still only a baby, Baby. I know you think it’s just sex and that’s all it would be with anyone else.” He blinks up at me, sleepy and confused, reminding me that he really does need me to look after him. “But with us it’s going to be so much more than that. You’re going to be ready and I’m going to know exactly how to please you. I only want what’s best for you; trust me on this, Mikey.”
I feel something dig into my side, making me look down to see that it’s Mikes, nuzzling into me in the cutest act of affection that I’ve ever experienced. It makes my heart flutter and race, knowing that I’m having this sort of intimacy with such a special little angel.
My special little angel.
“I trust you, Gabe. With everything.”
A/N: Well, that was… fluffy? Depressing? Pointless? Depressingly pointless fluff? Well, whatever it was, I hope you liked it and please let me know what you think! :)
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