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Mosh Pit Romance
5 reviewsSometimes the dark can be a good thing. One-shot. Read, review, rate and feel my love! :P
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Mosh Pit Romance
It starts with a question, one that Mikey Way has never been asked before and doubts he’ll ever be asked again but revels in none the less. Or rather, revels in the fact that it’s a tall, tanned man asking it. In the way the voice has a slightly Hispanic clip to it, the way the tone is somehow brimming with both nervousness and seduction all at once.
Gabe Saporta isn’t exactly shy when it comes to asking for what he wants, but tonight it’s different. Tonight he thinks that he actually stands a chance of getting what he wants, of what he knew he wanted from the second he asked the lanky boy with glasses if he had any Rizla paper or anything else to roll cigarettes with. The answer to that question had been negative, but Gabe’s confident that the answer to his next one will be positive. Why else would the younger boy be rubbing up tight against him and leaning into his touch at every possible second?
Before the older of the two can think twice about it, he taps Mikey on the shoulder and places a strong, dominating hand on the younger’s partially exposed hip bone. The action has the desired affect; a gasp, a blush and a smirk. And, of course, Mikey’s undivided attention.
Gabe just stares for a second, more like gazes, at the innocence on his new friend’s face. Mikey would like to think that he’s doing a pretty damn good job at fitting in with the bigger kid, what with his grinding and smiles and too-tight clothes, but to Gabe it’s obvious he’s out of place. He quickly shakes himself out of the gaze, well aware that he only has a matter of seconds before the band starts up again and his chance is lost.
“Hey, um, do you think I could maybe… get your number?”
It’s a miracle that Mikey doesn’t flat out flat-line at the question. Sure, the guy holding onto his hips hasn’t exactly tried to hide his attraction toward the younger teenager but they’ve only just met, are practically strangers. It’s not like Mikey thought he’d be getting eyed-up, then chatted-up and then damn-near groped (but in a good way) at his first ever gig. Damn, he thought he’d be remaining single until Hell freezes over.
But no, some guy started to talk to him, asked him for something to roll a cigarette with, and now here Mikey is; pressed up against someone a few years older than himself, being felt and doing his own fair share of feeling back, and really fucking enjoying it. Enjoying being wanted, desired even.
Mikey would give anything to be as cool and slick as Gabe appears to be but, well, as a fifteen-year-old with more hormones than sense, he simply isn’t.
“Nobody’s ever asked for my number before!” Comes his gushed reply, accompanied by an almost maniacal snort of giggling. “I don’t even have a fucking cell!”
Gabe is taken aback by both these things; firstly because the kid’s tight t-shirt and over-styled hair make him look like the sort who’d get asked for his number all the time, secondly because, let’s be honest here, what kind of teenager doesn’t even have a fucking phone?
It must be an excuse, Gabe decides, a get-out so that he doesn’t have to give his number out to the tanned Jersey boy. Feeling rather stupid and more than a little disappointed, Gabe lets his hands drop away from the waistband of the boy’s jeans.
Only to have them pinned back into place by the boy himself, a soft smile of reassurance plastered onto Mikey’s face due to the fact that he’s just realized how bad his response sounded.
“Seriously, I don’t have a phone.” Mikey thinks for a second, face-palming at how dorky he sounds. “But give me your number after the gig and I’ll use it whenever I can.”
Mikey churns with pride when Gabe beams back, neither of them caring that an entire mosh pit’s worth of people are watching the two of them practically touch each other up in public. Mikey’s never been a fan of the dark, but right now he can’t help but be hopelessly thankful for it.
“I’m just surprised that nobody’s ever asked for your number before. I think, to me I mean, you’re fucking stunning.”
And then the band starts up again, drowning out Gabe’s words and Mikey’s mindless giggles. Hands, however, cannot be drowned out by music.
Something that both boys are extremely grateful for.
**
The headlining band, some punk-pop group with an insanely skilled drummer, decide that to be more ‘rock and roll’ they need to cut all the lights for an entire song, thus shrouding the whole auditorium in complete darkness. Nothing but black, sweat and bodies.
Two of which belong to Mikey Way and Gabe Saporta.
Neither of them individually makes the conscious decision to move even closer, it just kind of happens simultaneously with the lights going out. Gabe’s hands tighten around Mikey’s hips, occasionally wandering up his tummy to his chest, and Mikey leans back further into Gabe’s warmth, dancing against the older boy like he was watching the smaller (female) members of the other couples dotted around doing before the lights were cut.
In all honesty, Mikey’s sad when the lights go up again. He thinks it means separation, standing a little away from each other so that their breaths aren’t mingled. After all, this is a first for Mikey; his first proper gig, his first time actually talking to a stranger, his first time being asked for a number and his first time doing any of, well, this kind of thing.
Gabe refuses to let go, though, refuses to let the embrace end.
Just like they both wish the night never will.
**
By the time that the headliners have finished it’s tipping down with rain and too murky in the sky for the stars to be visible, but that doesn’t stop Mikey from running around to the stage door with two followers hot on his Vans-clad heels. The first follower being his escort for the night, his big brother in other words, and the second being Gabe Saporta.
Gabe knows that he was meant to be getting a taxi to his best mate’s birthday party after the gig with a group of other guys, knows how dangerous it could potentially be for him to walk home in the dark instead, but at the same time he also knows how rare this is; how rare it is to find someone like Mikey Way in a crowd of strangers. Someone who his friends were checking out and making explicit comments about before one of them finally got up the balls to talk to Mikey. Admittedly and ashamedly, it wasn’t Gabe who first spoke to the kid but his boxing pal, asking what time the first band came on. When Gabe got a glimmer of Mikey’s voice and how his eyes fixated on his friend, he knew that he had to cut in before he lost his chance. And boy, is Gabe glad he did.
If he hadn’t, Gabe wouldn’t be here now in the pouring rain and holding hands with a grinning picture of naivety.
Mikey’s head is spinning, dizzy from the noise of his fist gig and the tingling of having someone hold his hand who isn’t his mother. Everything’s just so crazy; the talking to strangers, the sheer volume of people, the standing outside in the pissing rain.
“It’s cold.” Mikey remarks, trying to think of something to say that could possibly lead to more touching whilst his big brother is off looking for his car. “Fucking freezing.”
Gabe takes the hint, one that he’d been eagerly waiting for himself, and wraps an arm around the boy’s skinny shoulders, his hand coming to rest down on Mikey’s stomach, fingertips rubbing against the waistband of his jeans. Mikey nestles into the hold, head lolling happily onto Gabe’s chest, his hair tickling the older boy’s tanned skin.
“Better?”
Mikey nods at the vocal smirk of self-satisfaction in the other’s voice, pleased that he’s managed to please the older boy.
“So, you said nobody’s ever asked for your number before. Does that mean you’ve never had a boyfriend before either?” Gabe asks, trying to keep the disbelief out of his hell-deep voice. Mikey just shakes his head, too bashful and excited to properly respond. “How come? Do you like, live in a nunnery?” Mikey guffaws at this, thinking of how un-nunlike he really is, and then shakes his head once more. “Ever been kissed?”
Shy, shake of the head. Two pairs of glowing eyes, both knowing exactly where this is leading, where they both want this to lead.
“Can I kiss you?”
Mikey almost chokes on his breath; even if he had been expecting it, it still knocks him back a little. Before Gabe nobody had ever so much as winked at him, and now someone wants to taste him? Of course Mikey wants to kiss Gabe, the person who’s been protecting him all night, and of course they have to act quickly, lest they want his big brother to walk in on it.
“I-if you wa-want.”
Gabe smiles at the uncertainty in Mikey’s voice, at the way Mikey sounds like he half expects this to all be some sort of cruel joke or beautiful dream, and then stands to be directly opposite the shivering boy, leaving a hand on his shoulder.
“Of course I do.”
Leaving Mikey grinning like an idiot, Gabe leans in. He shuts his eyes, rubs his fingers over Mikey’s collar bone and lets his instincts take over. Only nothing happens. Mikey does nothing, just stands there like a lost puppy in the middle of a road. And then the lost puppy starts laughing, a kind of embarrassed but comfortable laugh, that makes Gabe pull back just a little.
“I’ve never kissed anyone before and I don’t know what to do.” Mikey laughs, surprised by his own honesty with this near-stranger. “Teach me?”
Gabe, breathing a sigh of relief, nods eagerly and presses his face forward once more.
“Well, uh, you just lean in…” Mikey does as is told until their lips are almost touching. “And then you just… y’know… like this.”
And then it happens; lips on lips, hands on skin, eyes shut and smiles wide. Mikey thought that his heart would accelerate like it always does in stories whenever a character gets kissed, but instead it stops. Everything stops. The feel of the rain, the sound of a group of teenagers cheering the two of them on, the threat of Gerard seeing; it all goes away.
Gabe’s kissed people before, of course he has, and he’s kissed people a lot better at it than Mikey Way is, but he’s never kissed a complete stranger in the pouring rain around the back of a gig venue. Never before has he had people watching his and his partner’s every move. He can feel how hard Mikey’s trying to keep up with even the slowest pace his lips can muster for the kiss, and it really is fucking adorable. Just like a little puppy; that’s how Gabe will think of Mikey.
They pull apart, Gabe doing his best to look cool and Mikey too bliss-drunk to even care about the fact he looks like all his birthdays have come at once.
“Sorry, I sucked, didn’t I?” Mikey mumbles after a few moments of silence, fear tangled into his voice. “I sucked, I knew I would. I’m sorry, it’s just I’ve never ki-“
“You did just fine, Mikey.” Gabe smiles at him, leaning forward again. “I’ll just have to teach you a little bit more.”
Mikey follows Gabe’s lead and… wow.
This time it’s completely different; he’s gotten over his initial fear and anxiety, over his panic that accompanies every first kiss. He’s just enjoying it, letting Gabe willingly do all the work while Mikey just takes it all in.
And then, when he thinks he understands how it all works, Mikey joins in. The addition of Mikey’s new-found confidence surprises Gabe in the same way that a Christmas present surprises a little kid; perfectly.
When they finally pull away they just stare at each other, Gabe once more wrapping an arm around Mikey so that he can rest a hand on his hip.
“Now that, that was a good one.” For the millionth time that night Mikey giggles and then it suddenly hits Gabe; he doesn’t know anything about the boy he just spent the past ten minutes kissing. “Hey, so, uh, how old are you exactly?”
Immediately Mikey frowns, knowing full well that he looks a lot older than he actually is.
“Fifteen. You?”
“Eighteen.”
Oh God, Gabe’s thinking. He’s just kissed a kid, snuggled and danced with a child, someone who’s not fucking legal. He could get arrested for this, for everything he’s been doing the entire fucking evening.
But Gabe can’t help but think it was worth it.
A/N: Just a little Gabekey. Please let me know what you think! :D
It starts with a question, one that Mikey Way has never been asked before and doubts he’ll ever be asked again but revels in none the less. Or rather, revels in the fact that it’s a tall, tanned man asking it. In the way the voice has a slightly Hispanic clip to it, the way the tone is somehow brimming with both nervousness and seduction all at once.
Gabe Saporta isn’t exactly shy when it comes to asking for what he wants, but tonight it’s different. Tonight he thinks that he actually stands a chance of getting what he wants, of what he knew he wanted from the second he asked the lanky boy with glasses if he had any Rizla paper or anything else to roll cigarettes with. The answer to that question had been negative, but Gabe’s confident that the answer to his next one will be positive. Why else would the younger boy be rubbing up tight against him and leaning into his touch at every possible second?
Before the older of the two can think twice about it, he taps Mikey on the shoulder and places a strong, dominating hand on the younger’s partially exposed hip bone. The action has the desired affect; a gasp, a blush and a smirk. And, of course, Mikey’s undivided attention.
Gabe just stares for a second, more like gazes, at the innocence on his new friend’s face. Mikey would like to think that he’s doing a pretty damn good job at fitting in with the bigger kid, what with his grinding and smiles and too-tight clothes, but to Gabe it’s obvious he’s out of place. He quickly shakes himself out of the gaze, well aware that he only has a matter of seconds before the band starts up again and his chance is lost.
“Hey, um, do you think I could maybe… get your number?”
It’s a miracle that Mikey doesn’t flat out flat-line at the question. Sure, the guy holding onto his hips hasn’t exactly tried to hide his attraction toward the younger teenager but they’ve only just met, are practically strangers. It’s not like Mikey thought he’d be getting eyed-up, then chatted-up and then damn-near groped (but in a good way) at his first ever gig. Damn, he thought he’d be remaining single until Hell freezes over.
But no, some guy started to talk to him, asked him for something to roll a cigarette with, and now here Mikey is; pressed up against someone a few years older than himself, being felt and doing his own fair share of feeling back, and really fucking enjoying it. Enjoying being wanted, desired even.
Mikey would give anything to be as cool and slick as Gabe appears to be but, well, as a fifteen-year-old with more hormones than sense, he simply isn’t.
“Nobody’s ever asked for my number before!” Comes his gushed reply, accompanied by an almost maniacal snort of giggling. “I don’t even have a fucking cell!”
Gabe is taken aback by both these things; firstly because the kid’s tight t-shirt and over-styled hair make him look like the sort who’d get asked for his number all the time, secondly because, let’s be honest here, what kind of teenager doesn’t even have a fucking phone?
It must be an excuse, Gabe decides, a get-out so that he doesn’t have to give his number out to the tanned Jersey boy. Feeling rather stupid and more than a little disappointed, Gabe lets his hands drop away from the waistband of the boy’s jeans.
Only to have them pinned back into place by the boy himself, a soft smile of reassurance plastered onto Mikey’s face due to the fact that he’s just realized how bad his response sounded.
“Seriously, I don’t have a phone.” Mikey thinks for a second, face-palming at how dorky he sounds. “But give me your number after the gig and I’ll use it whenever I can.”
Mikey churns with pride when Gabe beams back, neither of them caring that an entire mosh pit’s worth of people are watching the two of them practically touch each other up in public. Mikey’s never been a fan of the dark, but right now he can’t help but be hopelessly thankful for it.
“I’m just surprised that nobody’s ever asked for your number before. I think, to me I mean, you’re fucking stunning.”
And then the band starts up again, drowning out Gabe’s words and Mikey’s mindless giggles. Hands, however, cannot be drowned out by music.
Something that both boys are extremely grateful for.
**
The headlining band, some punk-pop group with an insanely skilled drummer, decide that to be more ‘rock and roll’ they need to cut all the lights for an entire song, thus shrouding the whole auditorium in complete darkness. Nothing but black, sweat and bodies.
Two of which belong to Mikey Way and Gabe Saporta.
Neither of them individually makes the conscious decision to move even closer, it just kind of happens simultaneously with the lights going out. Gabe’s hands tighten around Mikey’s hips, occasionally wandering up his tummy to his chest, and Mikey leans back further into Gabe’s warmth, dancing against the older boy like he was watching the smaller (female) members of the other couples dotted around doing before the lights were cut.
In all honesty, Mikey’s sad when the lights go up again. He thinks it means separation, standing a little away from each other so that their breaths aren’t mingled. After all, this is a first for Mikey; his first proper gig, his first time actually talking to a stranger, his first time being asked for a number and his first time doing any of, well, this kind of thing.
Gabe refuses to let go, though, refuses to let the embrace end.
Just like they both wish the night never will.
**
By the time that the headliners have finished it’s tipping down with rain and too murky in the sky for the stars to be visible, but that doesn’t stop Mikey from running around to the stage door with two followers hot on his Vans-clad heels. The first follower being his escort for the night, his big brother in other words, and the second being Gabe Saporta.
Gabe knows that he was meant to be getting a taxi to his best mate’s birthday party after the gig with a group of other guys, knows how dangerous it could potentially be for him to walk home in the dark instead, but at the same time he also knows how rare this is; how rare it is to find someone like Mikey Way in a crowd of strangers. Someone who his friends were checking out and making explicit comments about before one of them finally got up the balls to talk to Mikey. Admittedly and ashamedly, it wasn’t Gabe who first spoke to the kid but his boxing pal, asking what time the first band came on. When Gabe got a glimmer of Mikey’s voice and how his eyes fixated on his friend, he knew that he had to cut in before he lost his chance. And boy, is Gabe glad he did.
If he hadn’t, Gabe wouldn’t be here now in the pouring rain and holding hands with a grinning picture of naivety.
Mikey’s head is spinning, dizzy from the noise of his fist gig and the tingling of having someone hold his hand who isn’t his mother. Everything’s just so crazy; the talking to strangers, the sheer volume of people, the standing outside in the pissing rain.
“It’s cold.” Mikey remarks, trying to think of something to say that could possibly lead to more touching whilst his big brother is off looking for his car. “Fucking freezing.”
Gabe takes the hint, one that he’d been eagerly waiting for himself, and wraps an arm around the boy’s skinny shoulders, his hand coming to rest down on Mikey’s stomach, fingertips rubbing against the waistband of his jeans. Mikey nestles into the hold, head lolling happily onto Gabe’s chest, his hair tickling the older boy’s tanned skin.
“Better?”
Mikey nods at the vocal smirk of self-satisfaction in the other’s voice, pleased that he’s managed to please the older boy.
“So, you said nobody’s ever asked for your number before. Does that mean you’ve never had a boyfriend before either?” Gabe asks, trying to keep the disbelief out of his hell-deep voice. Mikey just shakes his head, too bashful and excited to properly respond. “How come? Do you like, live in a nunnery?” Mikey guffaws at this, thinking of how un-nunlike he really is, and then shakes his head once more. “Ever been kissed?”
Shy, shake of the head. Two pairs of glowing eyes, both knowing exactly where this is leading, where they both want this to lead.
“Can I kiss you?”
Mikey almost chokes on his breath; even if he had been expecting it, it still knocks him back a little. Before Gabe nobody had ever so much as winked at him, and now someone wants to taste him? Of course Mikey wants to kiss Gabe, the person who’s been protecting him all night, and of course they have to act quickly, lest they want his big brother to walk in on it.
“I-if you wa-want.”
Gabe smiles at the uncertainty in Mikey’s voice, at the way Mikey sounds like he half expects this to all be some sort of cruel joke or beautiful dream, and then stands to be directly opposite the shivering boy, leaving a hand on his shoulder.
“Of course I do.”
Leaving Mikey grinning like an idiot, Gabe leans in. He shuts his eyes, rubs his fingers over Mikey’s collar bone and lets his instincts take over. Only nothing happens. Mikey does nothing, just stands there like a lost puppy in the middle of a road. And then the lost puppy starts laughing, a kind of embarrassed but comfortable laugh, that makes Gabe pull back just a little.
“I’ve never kissed anyone before and I don’t know what to do.” Mikey laughs, surprised by his own honesty with this near-stranger. “Teach me?”
Gabe, breathing a sigh of relief, nods eagerly and presses his face forward once more.
“Well, uh, you just lean in…” Mikey does as is told until their lips are almost touching. “And then you just… y’know… like this.”
And then it happens; lips on lips, hands on skin, eyes shut and smiles wide. Mikey thought that his heart would accelerate like it always does in stories whenever a character gets kissed, but instead it stops. Everything stops. The feel of the rain, the sound of a group of teenagers cheering the two of them on, the threat of Gerard seeing; it all goes away.
Gabe’s kissed people before, of course he has, and he’s kissed people a lot better at it than Mikey Way is, but he’s never kissed a complete stranger in the pouring rain around the back of a gig venue. Never before has he had people watching his and his partner’s every move. He can feel how hard Mikey’s trying to keep up with even the slowest pace his lips can muster for the kiss, and it really is fucking adorable. Just like a little puppy; that’s how Gabe will think of Mikey.
They pull apart, Gabe doing his best to look cool and Mikey too bliss-drunk to even care about the fact he looks like all his birthdays have come at once.
“Sorry, I sucked, didn’t I?” Mikey mumbles after a few moments of silence, fear tangled into his voice. “I sucked, I knew I would. I’m sorry, it’s just I’ve never ki-“
“You did just fine, Mikey.” Gabe smiles at him, leaning forward again. “I’ll just have to teach you a little bit more.”
Mikey follows Gabe’s lead and… wow.
This time it’s completely different; he’s gotten over his initial fear and anxiety, over his panic that accompanies every first kiss. He’s just enjoying it, letting Gabe willingly do all the work while Mikey just takes it all in.
And then, when he thinks he understands how it all works, Mikey joins in. The addition of Mikey’s new-found confidence surprises Gabe in the same way that a Christmas present surprises a little kid; perfectly.
When they finally pull away they just stare at each other, Gabe once more wrapping an arm around Mikey so that he can rest a hand on his hip.
“Now that, that was a good one.” For the millionth time that night Mikey giggles and then it suddenly hits Gabe; he doesn’t know anything about the boy he just spent the past ten minutes kissing. “Hey, so, uh, how old are you exactly?”
Immediately Mikey frowns, knowing full well that he looks a lot older than he actually is.
“Fifteen. You?”
“Eighteen.”
Oh God, Gabe’s thinking. He’s just kissed a kid, snuggled and danced with a child, someone who’s not fucking legal. He could get arrested for this, for everything he’s been doing the entire fucking evening.
But Gabe can’t help but think it was worth it.
A/N: Just a little Gabekey. Please let me know what you think! :D
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