Work Text:
You've got your mother in a whirl
She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl
Hey babe, your hair's alright
Hey babe, let's go out tonight
Gerard finishes applying the last of his eyeliner and steps back to look at his outfit in the dust covered mirror.
He and Mikey will see the Banner play tonight. He’s got a faded Iron Maiden tee on, matched with the new plaid skirt he picked up at the thrift shop last week and his knee high combat boots that are basically on their deathbed. He’s even found a pair of fishnets for the occasion that doesn’t have too many tears in them.
Being genderfluid was something that Gerard only fully accepted about 6 months back, and as soon as he felt comfortable owning it in public, he did exactly that. Gender and sexual identity were things that he never wanted to hide or be ashamed of, but they’ve put him in some dangerous situations. Tonight, his attire was probably not one of the smartest decisions he’s ever made, but he looks fine as hell, and he couldn’t really care less otherwise.
Mikey doesn’t even blink when he walks into the living room; everyone in his family was pretty accepting of his identity when he first “came out,” so to speak. If anything, everything about existing just feels far more natural than it did before. He couldn’t be happier.
The train ride into the city goes without trouble, but he knows things will get complicated quickly as they approach the venue.
Someone behind him flicks a cigarette butt at his legs. He feels it strike his calf, probably leaving a mark, but he keeps walking forward without even a second glance. Fuck them.
Since they’re both still underage, Mikey gets cokes from the bar and they hang back as the opening band starts setting up. The place isn’t really filled. Odd, thinks Gerard. Banner is pretty well known; they’ve been around for forever.
The opening band isn’t too bad. The lead singer’s tone deaf, but it’s pretty good for a shitty club like this. Gerard had just wanted to get out of the house for once, because it’d been ages since he and Mikey had been able to do anything together. Mikey recently got a part-time job working for Eyeball Records, so he’s been there almost every day after school. They need some good old sibling bonding time.
Gerard smiles at Mikey, and Mikey only sticks his tongue back out at him. Whatever.
Gerard can see Mikey scanning the crowds around them looking for an oncoming threat, the new protective position he’s fallen into the past couple months. He knows Gerard can defend himself and isn’t going to play the victim in any of this, but he can’t help but worry sometimes. Gerard gets a lot of shit for who he is, and he acts like it doesn’t faze him, but Mikey still does worry sometimes. He knows Gerard, and he hasn’t always been this whole badass he’s become the past few months. He remembers the horrible days of middle school and high school, when being picked on was part of their daily routine. But Mikey isn’t complaining about this newfound courage. It must be a side-effect of really knowing who you are.
Mikey’s eyes come and rest upon a man that Gerard has noticed about 5 meters to their left. He’s been giving them the side eye the past couple songs and is inching his way closer.
He feels Gerard tense beside him as the guy now stands directly beside Gerard. Mikey feels like he’s watching in slow motion as the guy leans down to stage whisper in Gerard’s ear.
“Hey there, darling, didn’t mommy ever teach you how to shave that stubble off your face? Wouldn’t want anyone here to think you were a boy or anything, now would we?”
“Oh, fuck off, we’re just watching the fucking show. Don’t ruin it for everyone,” Mikey says warningly, just like he always does. Just like he always has to.
He tries to start off calm and assertive, and for some people, that’s all they need, but apparently they are in for an actual confrontation with this guy tonight.
“A show? A show? You are here for a show?” The man straightens from where he was bent towards Gerard, beginning to gesticulate wildly. Well, I think we’re gonna give everyone here a fucking show. Right here!” He sticks a middle finger in the air in the general direction of the stage. “The bands are shit today, anyway...you’re enjoying this babe, aren’t you?” He turns back to Gerard and spits, venom dripping from every word. “Fucking fag,” he adds.
Gerard flashes a dazzling smile at this pronouncement, wiping off a bit of spit that had gotten onto his face before saying, “Oh, yes, baby, I’m just so excited.” Mikey feels something warm unfurl in his stomach. This isn’t going to be pretty.
Taken aback, the man then resorts to the words that are ever so popular in shitty venues like these. “You know what, fag? You wanna fight? You wanna fucking fight? I bet you fight like a fucking girl, too!”
He goes to go push at Gerard’s shoulders but then someone in the crowd holds him back, and silence envelops the room. Even the band has stopped playing.
Gerard rolls his eyes, takes a breath, and says, “Fight? You want to fight me? You know what kind of people that gets into fights? Cowards. Cowards get into fights. They get into fights because they are afraid of what their opponent is going to say next. They know that there’s a chance that they’re going to get proven wrong really soon, and they want to prove their dominance over the other person. You want to fight me, because you are a fucking coward who can’t win an argument with words. You’re an illiterate douchebag, and most of all a coward. You’re afraid of the unknown, of things different than yourself. I’m different than you and that terrifies you. So you make fun of me and attempt to mock me out of existence. Well guess what? It’s not working. And there is no room for assholes like you at punk shows. Punk shows are for people who feel left out everywhere else, and when they come here, they feel like they actually belong. You don’t. So get the fuck out.”
Mikey sees shocked faces throughout the crowd, and the guy shoves at some bystander’s arms that were holding him back, and stalks out of the place. The crowd erupts into cheers, and someone presses a drink into Gerard’s hands. Mikey clasps him on the shoulder before pulling him into a Mikeyway one armed hug.
The Banner then come on stage, and Joey approaches the mic.
“Alright everybody! Who’s ready to fuckin’ party!” The crowd cheers. “So this set is gonna out to that fabulous little lady in the back who just totally owned that douchebag, so please put your hands together for him? Her? Who the fuck cares!”
Gerard raises his glass and shouts, “I sure as hell don’t!”
Everybody laughs, and the first song starts. Mikey kisses his brothers cheek, and the rest of the night is a blur of sweat, bodies, and loud punk music. And really, what else matters?
We like dancing and we look divine
You love bands when they're playing hard
You want more and you want it fast
They put you down, they say I'm wrong
You tacky thing, you put them on.