Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > If I Woke Up Next To You
Chapter One
0 reviewsAll Mikey wants when he gets back from hiatus is some peace and quiet, but when he finally does get what he wants, will it be what he expected? (Slash, slightly strange pairing)
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Mikey stretched, his shirt riding up over his stomach. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and reached down, shoving the knot of sheets from over his body and dragging himself off the bed. He could feel the spots on his head where his hair stuck up the worst, shifting around when he moved. It felt oily and dirty, wiry on his scalp. He didn’t dare look in the mirror; it would make him feel even more unclean.
He towed himself into the bathroom, a slight breeze chilling him as he opened the door. He shivered; it was colder in there than he’d expected. He tried to ignore it and turned on the faucet, reaching furtively into the shower while gripping the door with one hand, hoping not to get sprayed when the tap was turned on fully. He grimaced as he was splattered with the cold water. He didn’t really know why, though; he would be getting in anyway.
He wriggled out of his pajamas and dropped them on the floor, stepping into the shower with one foot, then the other, testing the temperature. He always washed in the hottest water he could stand in the morning. It woke him up easier than without. The water scorched his back, running down between his shoulder blades and along his legs, swirling into the rusty drain at the bottom of the shower. He listened to the screeching of the pipes in the wall, trailing his hand absently over the white tiling. Water dripped from the glass door and the cold metal knobs ornamenting the stall. His fingers slipped to his side, and he bent to pull the washcloth from where it was hanging over the railing.
It was almost seven-o-clock. He had the band to return to.
Mikey had always liked his brother’s hugs. Gerard gave gentle hugs; the kind that felt like the hugger was afraid they would crush the hugged’s bones if they squeezed any tighter. But Gerard’s hugs were firm at the same time. Mikey knew he’d been missed.
“So how’s the wife?” Ray asked, throwing his arms over Mikey’s shoulder as they walked from the hotel. “It’s been a while since we saw her last, huh?”
Mikey smiled. “Yeah, guess so… Ali’s going to tonight’s show… Backstage, you know?” He shrugged, Ray’s arm moving along with the action.
“Ahh,” Ray responded, nodding. He removed the weight from Mikey’s shoulder and hooked his fingers in his pockets. They were approaching the bands’ temporary transportation for the day. “That’s cool. She shaking off the jet lag now?”
Mikey nodded. He ducked into the van when Ray held the door for him, hopping in after him and sliding the door closed. Frank was already situated in the seat beside his, flipping through the set list for the night and that day’s agenda. Minutes later Gerard and Bob had finally joined them. The engine started as Mikey’s gaze drifted out the fogged window. There wasn’t much to do but stare into space.
He towed himself into the bathroom, a slight breeze chilling him as he opened the door. He shivered; it was colder in there than he’d expected. He tried to ignore it and turned on the faucet, reaching furtively into the shower while gripping the door with one hand, hoping not to get sprayed when the tap was turned on fully. He grimaced as he was splattered with the cold water. He didn’t really know why, though; he would be getting in anyway.
He wriggled out of his pajamas and dropped them on the floor, stepping into the shower with one foot, then the other, testing the temperature. He always washed in the hottest water he could stand in the morning. It woke him up easier than without. The water scorched his back, running down between his shoulder blades and along his legs, swirling into the rusty drain at the bottom of the shower. He listened to the screeching of the pipes in the wall, trailing his hand absently over the white tiling. Water dripped from the glass door and the cold metal knobs ornamenting the stall. His fingers slipped to his side, and he bent to pull the washcloth from where it was hanging over the railing.
It was almost seven-o-clock. He had the band to return to.
Mikey had always liked his brother’s hugs. Gerard gave gentle hugs; the kind that felt like the hugger was afraid they would crush the hugged’s bones if they squeezed any tighter. But Gerard’s hugs were firm at the same time. Mikey knew he’d been missed.
“So how’s the wife?” Ray asked, throwing his arms over Mikey’s shoulder as they walked from the hotel. “It’s been a while since we saw her last, huh?”
Mikey smiled. “Yeah, guess so… Ali’s going to tonight’s show… Backstage, you know?” He shrugged, Ray’s arm moving along with the action.
“Ahh,” Ray responded, nodding. He removed the weight from Mikey’s shoulder and hooked his fingers in his pockets. They were approaching the bands’ temporary transportation for the day. “That’s cool. She shaking off the jet lag now?”
Mikey nodded. He ducked into the van when Ray held the door for him, hopping in after him and sliding the door closed. Frank was already situated in the seat beside his, flipping through the set list for the night and that day’s agenda. Minutes later Gerard and Bob had finally joined them. The engine started as Mikey’s gaze drifted out the fogged window. There wasn’t much to do but stare into space.
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