Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Precious Things Smash
3 reviewsIt's all Gabe's fault. Not that Mikey would ever blame him. GABEKEY one-shot. Read, review, rate and feel my love! :P
1Ambiance
Precious Things Smash
“Shush there, Precioso. It’s alright.” I coo down at him, head cradled into my lap and my intricate fingers trickling through his hair like the blood is. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”
I shouldn’t have to be promising this. Not now, not ever and certainly not to my fifteen-year-old boyfriend in the middle of a motherfucking road. Then again, the drunken bastard who was clearly too far gone to be driving shouldn’t have zoomed off the second he realised he’d hit a kid. My kid. As in; he is Mikey Way, property of Gabe Saporta.
And I’m Gabe Saporta, property of Mikey Way. The eighteen-year-old owned by an underage child, but that doesn’t mar the pleasure of being his in any way possible. Even if it does have a tendency to get people to fix me with looks as though dating a younger boy is a cardinal sin. But none of that matters right now, not when my Mikey, my whole fucking everything, is squirming in my arms as pain wracks his fragile body.
All because some idiot was driving too fast and wildly for either of us to see him coming.
“G-gabe-abe!” The fragmented agony in his voice makes me wish I was the one waiting to be taken away in an ambulance purely because then I’d be too out of it to fully realise that my baby is in pain. “Hu-urts.”
The next thing that impacts me after his heart-decimating mewl is a scream. It’s not just a scream of pure terror, although that definitely plays a huge part in it, but one of unbridled excruciation. And just like that, guilt swamps me, suffocates me to the point where I’m numb to the tears dripping down my face.
Because it should be me.
I’m not just feeling bad because my boyfriend’s writhing in pain in the middle of a motherfucking road when I should have been able to push him out of the way, but because it really should be me facing a long battle with surgeons when the goddamn ambulance finally gets here; I was the one fooling around in the middle of the road, he’s the one who saved me by shoving me to safety.
I don’t care that Gerard’s going to slaughter me for this, in fact I welcome the punishment I know I deserve, nor that I’ll probably go to hell for letting an angel come to harm. All that I care about is Mikey.
My sweet, kind and stupidly brave Mikey.
“I know, Precioso. You just gotta hold on a little longer.” I snake a hand from his hair into his own clammed-up palm, wincing as I feel his precious life-liquid dribble down his arm and onto my fingers. My poor little Precioso. “You’re so fucking brave. Y’know that, right?”
He blinks up at me, eyes two huge moons of adulated hope despite the undeniable agony he must sure be in. But that’s just who is; always holds onto the good things, always hiding away the bad until they become too much and he explodes into a million tiny pieces. That’s okay though, because I’m always here to glue him together.
Apart from I can’t glue him back together now. Fuck, I can’t even make his pain fade away or properly soothe his worries. Because I honestly don’t know if he will be alright.
And that scares the living shit out of me.
“M’not brave.”
His modesty strikes a deep chord in me; even right now, with his left leg bent at a sickening angle and more blood than I thought such a small kid could even hold pouring from him, he’s still being the boy I fell in love with two summers ago.
He really is the nicest, most sincere person I have ever met.
And I’ve let him down. Not just tonight, but with letting him question his unquestionable bravery. He doesn’t ever complain about anything, always tries his hardest and never lets doubt bring him down. Not even when I’ve seen him getting beaten up at school has he ever shown any hint of fear, not until he dissolves into a shaking mess on my bed anyway. Even then though it’s the mental hurt that makes him cry, not fear.
Because he’s brave. Too brave for his own good.
“You, Precioso, are the bravest person I’ve ever met. Look at you, just been hit by a car and you’re no-“
“I’m not brave!” He cries out, making me squeeze his hand tenfold tighter as his back arches in agony. Agony that should be mine to bear, not his. “I’m terrified, Gabey.” He starts sobbing, my thumbs going at a sonic pace to catch each individual blood diamond. “W-what if I d-d-ie?”
“Don’t even think about that, Mikey J., because it ain’t gonna happen.” Tears are clinging to my words, interrupted by the welcome sound of sirens spiralling in the distance. “I won’t let it. I’m not letting you go, okay? So don’t you dare think about letting me go. Don’t you fucking dare.”
I smash my lips to his, taking extra care through worry of doing even more damage to my obliterated boyfriend, and a star of hope shoots through me as he kisses back, putting his all into it like he always does with everything. Especially with others; a trait that’s earned him numerous protectors and friends alike in his fifteen years.
Pete Wentz, Frank Iero, Patrick Stump, Brendon Urie, Adam Lazzara; hell, even Gerard’s girlfriend, Lindsey Ballato, has a soft spot for the kid. They’d never forgive me if I let my baby leave us all, not that he will. He’s strong. He’s a fighter.
When I pull away I offer him a soft smile, one that he just can’t return because the pain has taken control of his body.
But not of his voice.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He starts panting hard, gasping for the air that’s seemingly running away from him and in response my hands stroke every piece of undamaged skin they can find just to reassure myself that he is still here. “Si-sing to me?”
How can I deny him such a sweet request, even if tears are tearing at my voice?
I know what he wants to hear too; the song I wrote for him as some sort of fucked-up lullaby. He thinks it’s the greatest thing in the world. But that’s just Mikey being his adorable self.
I clear my throat, straining my eyes to see the ambulance hurtling towards us from the end of the road.
“We were in your basement hiding out,
Eating pills and falling in love.
There's only one thing I could never doubt,
It's in my arms right now.”
His sobbing fades to whimpers, head nuzzling into my hand, letting me know that I’m at least getting something right this horrific night.
“But you do what you gotta do;
Don't worry about what they say about you.
Is it true? Is it true?
You do what you gotta do;
Don't worry what they say about, us.”
A gust of wind announces that hope is nearly here; the ambulance’s sirens nearly drowning out my voice. So I sing louder, determined to please my baby before they take him away.
“So fold your hands child,
And walk straight now.
Go on and take your best shot!
They can never find our secret hiding spot,
Where we play all day;
We'll go on and on anyway.”
And then, through all of this agony, he smiles.
Because we’re together and nothing can change that, no matter what happens.
A/N: Just some pointless Gabekey fluff(?).Precioso is Spanish for “Precious” and the song Gabe sang is “Fold Your Hands Child” by Cobra Starship. Thanks for reading! :)
“Shush there, Precioso. It’s alright.” I coo down at him, head cradled into my lap and my intricate fingers trickling through his hair like the blood is. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”
I shouldn’t have to be promising this. Not now, not ever and certainly not to my fifteen-year-old boyfriend in the middle of a motherfucking road. Then again, the drunken bastard who was clearly too far gone to be driving shouldn’t have zoomed off the second he realised he’d hit a kid. My kid. As in; he is Mikey Way, property of Gabe Saporta.
And I’m Gabe Saporta, property of Mikey Way. The eighteen-year-old owned by an underage child, but that doesn’t mar the pleasure of being his in any way possible. Even if it does have a tendency to get people to fix me with looks as though dating a younger boy is a cardinal sin. But none of that matters right now, not when my Mikey, my whole fucking everything, is squirming in my arms as pain wracks his fragile body.
All because some idiot was driving too fast and wildly for either of us to see him coming.
“G-gabe-abe!” The fragmented agony in his voice makes me wish I was the one waiting to be taken away in an ambulance purely because then I’d be too out of it to fully realise that my baby is in pain. “Hu-urts.”
The next thing that impacts me after his heart-decimating mewl is a scream. It’s not just a scream of pure terror, although that definitely plays a huge part in it, but one of unbridled excruciation. And just like that, guilt swamps me, suffocates me to the point where I’m numb to the tears dripping down my face.
Because it should be me.
I’m not just feeling bad because my boyfriend’s writhing in pain in the middle of a motherfucking road when I should have been able to push him out of the way, but because it really should be me facing a long battle with surgeons when the goddamn ambulance finally gets here; I was the one fooling around in the middle of the road, he’s the one who saved me by shoving me to safety.
I don’t care that Gerard’s going to slaughter me for this, in fact I welcome the punishment I know I deserve, nor that I’ll probably go to hell for letting an angel come to harm. All that I care about is Mikey.
My sweet, kind and stupidly brave Mikey.
“I know, Precioso. You just gotta hold on a little longer.” I snake a hand from his hair into his own clammed-up palm, wincing as I feel his precious life-liquid dribble down his arm and onto my fingers. My poor little Precioso. “You’re so fucking brave. Y’know that, right?”
He blinks up at me, eyes two huge moons of adulated hope despite the undeniable agony he must sure be in. But that’s just who is; always holds onto the good things, always hiding away the bad until they become too much and he explodes into a million tiny pieces. That’s okay though, because I’m always here to glue him together.
Apart from I can’t glue him back together now. Fuck, I can’t even make his pain fade away or properly soothe his worries. Because I honestly don’t know if he will be alright.
And that scares the living shit out of me.
“M’not brave.”
His modesty strikes a deep chord in me; even right now, with his left leg bent at a sickening angle and more blood than I thought such a small kid could even hold pouring from him, he’s still being the boy I fell in love with two summers ago.
He really is the nicest, most sincere person I have ever met.
And I’ve let him down. Not just tonight, but with letting him question his unquestionable bravery. He doesn’t ever complain about anything, always tries his hardest and never lets doubt bring him down. Not even when I’ve seen him getting beaten up at school has he ever shown any hint of fear, not until he dissolves into a shaking mess on my bed anyway. Even then though it’s the mental hurt that makes him cry, not fear.
Because he’s brave. Too brave for his own good.
“You, Precioso, are the bravest person I’ve ever met. Look at you, just been hit by a car and you’re no-“
“I’m not brave!” He cries out, making me squeeze his hand tenfold tighter as his back arches in agony. Agony that should be mine to bear, not his. “I’m terrified, Gabey.” He starts sobbing, my thumbs going at a sonic pace to catch each individual blood diamond. “W-what if I d-d-ie?”
“Don’t even think about that, Mikey J., because it ain’t gonna happen.” Tears are clinging to my words, interrupted by the welcome sound of sirens spiralling in the distance. “I won’t let it. I’m not letting you go, okay? So don’t you dare think about letting me go. Don’t you fucking dare.”
I smash my lips to his, taking extra care through worry of doing even more damage to my obliterated boyfriend, and a star of hope shoots through me as he kisses back, putting his all into it like he always does with everything. Especially with others; a trait that’s earned him numerous protectors and friends alike in his fifteen years.
Pete Wentz, Frank Iero, Patrick Stump, Brendon Urie, Adam Lazzara; hell, even Gerard’s girlfriend, Lindsey Ballato, has a soft spot for the kid. They’d never forgive me if I let my baby leave us all, not that he will. He’s strong. He’s a fighter.
When I pull away I offer him a soft smile, one that he just can’t return because the pain has taken control of his body.
But not of his voice.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He starts panting hard, gasping for the air that’s seemingly running away from him and in response my hands stroke every piece of undamaged skin they can find just to reassure myself that he is still here. “Si-sing to me?”
How can I deny him such a sweet request, even if tears are tearing at my voice?
I know what he wants to hear too; the song I wrote for him as some sort of fucked-up lullaby. He thinks it’s the greatest thing in the world. But that’s just Mikey being his adorable self.
I clear my throat, straining my eyes to see the ambulance hurtling towards us from the end of the road.
“We were in your basement hiding out,
Eating pills and falling in love.
There's only one thing I could never doubt,
It's in my arms right now.”
His sobbing fades to whimpers, head nuzzling into my hand, letting me know that I’m at least getting something right this horrific night.
“But you do what you gotta do;
Don't worry about what they say about you.
Is it true? Is it true?
You do what you gotta do;
Don't worry what they say about, us.”
A gust of wind announces that hope is nearly here; the ambulance’s sirens nearly drowning out my voice. So I sing louder, determined to please my baby before they take him away.
“So fold your hands child,
And walk straight now.
Go on and take your best shot!
They can never find our secret hiding spot,
Where we play all day;
We'll go on and on anyway.”
And then, through all of this agony, he smiles.
Because we’re together and nothing can change that, no matter what happens.
A/N: Just some pointless Gabekey fluff(?).Precioso is Spanish for “Precious” and the song Gabe sang is “Fold Your Hands Child” by Cobra Starship. Thanks for reading! :)
Sign up to rate and review this story