Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Imperfect Boys With Their Perfect Ploys

Imperfect Boys With Their Perfect Ploys

by RAWRsaysRabidMissile 0 reviews

A Pikey fic co-written with Mikeyunicornrawr.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres:  - Published: 2012-10-18 - Updated: 2012-10-20 - 1339 words

Pete's Point of view: Mikeyunicornrawr
Mikey's Point of view: Me


I’m so thrilled to be going on tour with these guys again. I’ve missed it more than any measure of explanation. While we did our own thing, I was mostly separated from my best friend, and it got pretty awful at times. Another plus with this tour is that we’re touring alongside Mychem, which means I get to see Mikey again. I mean, them again. The last time Mikey-Mychem and FOB toured together, Mikey and I had a bit of a fling. It was all a show, honestly. Frerard was driving us both nuts, so we decided to introduce a new pairing. I think the name fans chose for it was “Pikey”, not that I’ve looked it up or anything. It wasn’t much, honestly. Mikey and I would just get a bit cuddly in public, but the truth is we’re only friends. Good friends. He’s right up there with Patrick, even though it’s been over a year since I’ve seen him. We’ve talked a little, but both of our lives have been so busy recently. I’m glad we’ll have this tour to catch up.

“Oh God, you’re thinking about him aren’t you?” Patrick raises an eyebrow as he sits in my bunk.

“Thinking about who?” I tilt my head.

“Miiiiikey.” He grins, “Don’t try to lie, the look on your face just proves it.”

I roll my eyes, “Watch it Stump, or I’ll kick you onto the floor.”

“Touchy for someone who isn’t thinking about Mikey.” His grin widens, “So I guess your previous thing with him will continue?”

“Patrick, I’ve told you at least a million times. Nothing happened. It was fake. Mikes and I are just buds.”

“Sure thing, Wentz.” Patrick walks over to his bunk and puts on his headphones, “Wake me when we meet up with MCR.”

I nod and check to make sure he’s closed his eyes before getting out my phone to text Mikey, “Hey, on the bus. Want to go for coffee when we meet up?”


I'm sitting at the table sipping Coke and checking my phone every few minutes. Not waiting for a certain text, of course not. I'm basically glued to my phone. Especially when on tour. I'm also stalking the internet, to see what fans are saying about our upcoming tour. I'm surprised it didn't implode when Fall Out Boy announced they were ending their hiatus. I shudder at the thought of the word, as if it's a curse. I'll admit, I'm a huge fan of theirs. Why not be? They're an amazing band. It was amazing getting to play with them. Getting to know them. Getting to know Pete...
Gerard walks up behind me and taps my shoulder. I startle and turn around in the booth.

"Hey, Mikey. You do know that your phone won't explode if you're not holding it at all times, right?

"Yeah... 'course I do."

Gerard shakes his head and sits down across form me, pointing to my fingers. They're red from squeezing the phone too tight. I put it down.

"Okay, what's going on? Are you aware you're shaking?"

"N-No..." I clear my throat and try to speak again. "I'm just excited."

"Yeah man, touring with Patrick and them again is gonna be awesome. I loved Warped."

"Mhm, same here."

"And you loved Pete."

I choke on my soda.

"Wh-What? No I d-didn't."

"Save the stutters, baby bro. We saw how you were with him. L-O-V-E."

I swat at his arm, annoyed.

"Seriously, what would you call that shit if not love?"

"What do you call you and Frank?" I retort, glaring.

"Stage gay that become so much more,"


"But at first it was just for show. To make people scream. In anger or lust, we didn't care which."

"There's your answer."

"Wait, what?

As I lean back and roll my eyes, my phone vibrates on the table. I reach out a little too hastily to grab it, but Gerard snatches it up first.

"Gerard, give me my phone!"


"At least tell me what it says!"

"Fine, fine. 'Hey, on the bus. Want to go for coffee when we meet up?' Oooh."

I blink, surprised. "Who's it from?"

Gerard taps out a text and sends it before passing the phone across the table and getting up to leave. I look up at him, eyes wide and slightly fearful.

"Wentz," he says before walking away.

I pick up my phone and look at the text Gerard sent.

"Sounds good, meet me at Starbucks."

I curse and drop my phone.


I bite my lip, waiting for him to reply. Mikey’s always got his phone glued to his hand, so what’s the hold up? Maybe my text didn’t send? I sigh and lie back in my bunk. So what if he doesn’t text back? I’ll live. It’s not like I’ll die if he doesn’t want to get coffee with me. But, Mikey turning down coffee is a bit odd. My phone vibrates in my pocket, causing me to stuff my hand into my pocket quickly and read the text.

“Sounds good, meet me at Starbucks.”

I smirk and quickly type out a reply, “Knew you wouldn’t say no to coffee, addict.”

I glance over to Patrick, already snoring in his bunk before allowing myself to grin. What’s wrong with being happy? It’s not like I’m in love with the guy, it’s normal to be excited to see a friend. All through recording the new album, Patrick and I have been inseparable. I don’t see why he’s teasing me about Mikey. I stare at my phone, waiting on Mikey’s next reply. I hope we get there soon. I hope we don’t get there before the Mychem bus, then I’d have to wait there for him! I decide to go through my clothes and get changed, not that I’m trying to impress anyone. I pull on my tightest jeans and a black MCR hoodie. I smile to myself. This tour is going to be great.

I read Pete's reply and roll my eyes, laughing quietly. If he had known Gerard had sent the text, it would be even funnier. I think my brother has spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on coffee. Me? An addict? I'm nothing compared to him. I sit there and type out yet another reply, only to delete it. I try again and it gets erased as well. Why can't I text all of a sudden? I guess I really am nervous. It's a good kind of nervous, though. I really can't wait to see them all. I try to send another text "Can't wait to see you," before giving up altogether. I put my phone down and stand up.

"What did he say," Gerard asks, peeking his head around the curtain for the bunks.

"He called you a coffee addict, nosy." I walk to the couch and grab a cushion, throwing it across the bus at his head. He ducks away, laughing.

I sigh and sit on the couch, rifling through the Fall Out Boy CD's I had piled there. I miss 2005, really do. It was before Black Parade, and before the horrible depression and fear that Paramour Mansion instilled in me. Also... Pete and I had a little fun. Gerard and Frank got the gay-boy fun, so why couldn't we? We cuddled, took pictures together, and tweeted up a storm. Every once in a while, Pete liked to walk up to me on stage and stroke my cheek or throw an arm around my shoulder. It was really sweet, and for once we got attention that I didn't hate.

I smile as I go to my bunk to change.
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