Chapter Text
as a rule, mikey didn't live with his friends. nothing sent a friendship into decline faster than arguing over who left the milk out to go sour. he'd ignored that rule when it came to frank because he was desperate for housing closer to the city, and his best friend had a spare room, and he'd been regretting that for around 6 months at this point.
"get up, sleepyhead. we need you to help run tech tonight", frank had barged into mikey's room without knocking as per usual, waking him up with a pillow to the face. mikey groaned, giving a pathetic sniffle and refusing to open his eyes.
"frank, i could've been jerking off".
"nothing i haven't seen before", the shorter boy whispered, ruffling the sleeping boy's hair. mikey sat up then, grimacing as he remembered all of the times in their single year of friendship that they'd accidentally walked in on each other in compromising positions. if he had a dollar for ever instance then, well, he'd have thirteen dollars, which wasn't exactly a lot of money, but it was definitely a lot of times to be caught within those circumstances.
the second he sat up, frank passed him a mug of coffee - black, one sugar, just the way he liked it. mikey sipped it gratefully. and okay, fine, maybe frank wasn't such a bad roommate at times like this, but mikey also knew that this gesture was just petty bargaining.
"frankie, i'm sick. you know i'm sick. why else would i be sleeping at six in the afternoon?".
"maybe you're high".
"i don't smoke".
"mikes!", frank flopped his body over mikey's bed, looking up at the boy with his stupid fucking smile. it was pitiful. "adam is in vermont and i don't trust anyone else with my guitar. mikey, come on, you've not even got a temperature. please".
maybe the coffee won him over. or maybe it was the puppy dog eyes.
mikey rolled himself out of bed and grabbed the first pair of clean-ish jeans from his dirty laundry basket. he also grabbed a jacket because the two of them always walked to the dive, and new jersey wasn't exactly warm, especially not in january.
while they sauntered along on the fifteen minute walk together, he made frank listen to a list of all the ways he was going to repay him for this, getting to "seventeen - you'll pay my half of the rent this month" when frank finally stopped him.
"that's overstepping".
"no, you know what overstepping is? all the times you've told me you want to fuck my brother. consider this compensation".
"your brother is hot, dude. i can't help knowing a good lay when i see one", frank shot back, and mikey shuddered because he knew that frank was only half messing with him. "speaking of which, are you gonna hook up with anyone tonight? because i'm up for staying with james if you want the apartment".
Mikey scoffed and said, "you're out of your mind if you think any girl is going to want to hook up with a guy who hasn't showered in two days and has only eaten soup for the last week".
"you're dramatic", frank teased. "you're also out of your mind for thinking i meant a girl".
oh yeah. of course. that was something people knew about now.
gerard was a total older brother archetype when mikey drunkenly stammered out the fact he liked guys last month, and had supported him wholeheartedly with open arms. frank had taken more of a what he called 'aggressive love' approach, threatening to single handedly end the life of anyone who ever made mikey feel invalidated. frank's second priority was getting mikey a boyfriend. or a quick fuck. those two things were interchangeable in frank's head.
"i don't need one of your pity setups", mikey told him, but he made sure to smile. he'd been putting the effort in to look less intimidating lately, because his resting face always seemed more judgemental than contemplative.
the bar frank always played at was underground lit with purple led lights, and it stank like piss. it was a total and utter dive, which is probably why they'd named it ‘the dive', and on nights when pencey played it was usually populated by seedy wannabe punk guys and girls with offensively low-riding jeans. they were cool, though. even if the place was quite disreputable, the residents were always fun to drink with.
mikey helped the band set up, and then snuck off to sit at the bar at the back of the room once they started the show.
"mikey! didn't think i'd see you tonight. a little birdie told me you were under the weather", the bar tender got a class from behind the counter and poured two neat shots of whiskey. "this'll help. i'll join you".
"i've been better, rocco", the boy said, and the two of them drank their shots. it sort of burned mikey's throat more than it helped, but he smiled at the large man anyway, because he had common decency and that was hard to find.
"drinking on the job?", mikey asked, and the man winked, moving over to the left for a second to serve an actual paying customer.
mikey sat on the bar stool and watched frank up on stage. he was screaming down his mic and flailing his arms around like he was lost without his guitar, and though mikey could barely differentiate between most of their songs, he knew it must've been a classic of theirs, because the crowd were going absolutely insane. they were feeding off of frank's energy. a pit had formed. mikey felt oddly proud of his best friend.
"good, aren't they?", a guy sat down on the stool besides mikey and gestured at the band. he was wearing a white denim jacket, and said possibly the douchiest thing a guy could say to a person alone at a bar. "you come here often?".
"seriously? the oldest pickup line in the book?", mikey snorted, looking the guy up and down. he was short, with messy black hair, and his jeans were cuffed at the ankles. he had black smudged around his eyes, and it was honestly kind of attractive in a grungy panda kind of way, but mikey pushed that thought to the back of his head. "yeah. i come here often", he said.
"i'm in a band too, back in california. we're not like, popular, but we're bringing an album out, like soon".
"how cool", mikey smirked. who was this kid? he can't have been younger than twenty but his energy was screaming seventeen. or seven. "so you're in jersey for what?".
"the music scene. i just moved here, the scene is really cool".
mikey actually agreed with that one.
rocco came back and mikey asked for two beers, relieved that there was another person in the conversation.
"don't let frank drink one. i know that kid's not legal yet".
"rocco, what harm is a few months", mikey went to grab his beers, but rocco stopped him.
"mikey".
"okay! fine, fine", he sighed and looked at the talkative stranger who'd sat next to him. "you want this? i get them on the house".
"sure! thanks, mikey", he said, taking it and grinning because he'd picked up on his name.
mikey stood up to leave with just the single beer in his hand but the boy grabbed him and caught his attention again.
"who's frank?", he asked. mikey took a deep breath, pointed at the angsty mess rolling around on the stage, and said, "my boyfriend".
"i had a boyfriend too. key word being had. he's cute, though".
"yeah. you're welcome for the beer, i gotta go", mikey practically ran back to behind the stage, not daring to miss the set change.
when the band took their five minute breather, frank came backstage expecting a beer. mikey handed his over and frowned.
"rocco has caught onto us".
"shit", frank took a swig and handed it back, "i need a fake ID. being twenty fucking sucks. i'm glad you're old".
"we're a few months apart, not ten years", mikey shook his head.
okay, maybe he'd lied to the guy at the bar, but frank being his boyfriend wasn't that much of a stretch. they lived together, they ran errands for each other. and he wasn't hard on the eyes - especially not now, with sweat dripping down his face. so what harm was a little white lie to stop mikey from feeling so socially inept.
"do you wanna date?", mikey blurted out, and frank almost choked.
"um, buddy, what? i mean, i'm flattered but don't you remember like two days ago when i told you i had a dream that your brother-".
"oh god no", mikey clasped his hands around his ears. "stop. not again".
"sorry".
"i told this guy you were my boyfriend so that he'd stop flirting with me. i don't even know why, it just came out", mikey explained, opening up frank's guitar case and handing him his instrument. "and then i ran away. i bet he thinks i'm a loser".
"probably".
frank didn't say anything else, but he smirked like he knew something before he took his guitar and went back onto the stage, launching into one of their b sides which mikey recognised from the second they sang out "we live on a thumbnail, with no better charm".
he nodded his head to the music and looked around to see if he could find the guy from the bar in the crowd again, but he'd forgotten his glasses, and his head was still sort of foggy from his cold, so everybody blended into one big mass of movement.
they didn't bring up the fake boyfriends thing until a week later, when they threw a party in their apartment. another rule of mikey's was never trust drunk frank, and yet here he was breaking his golden rule, eating chips and salsa in his kitchen while his roommate draped himself all over gerard.
"i'm so glad you came tonight", frank giggled, and mikey took an angry bite of his food, glaring at the two. frank was absolutely fucking shameless, sat up on the kitchen counter top with an arm hooked around the older boy's neck, but gerard wasn't much better: he seemed to be very much enjoying the attention, standing willingly between frank's legs. mikey swore he even saw his hand touch the other boy's hip at one point. he could've thrown up in his mouth right there and then.
"so gee, did mikey tell you that he has a crush on this guy he met at my show last week?", frank chortled.
another mikey rule: don't tell gerard about your dating life.
fuck this. mikey was gonna kill him.
as mikey lunged forward, frank jumped down from the counter in preparation for a fight, and gerard had to stand between them. he grabbed his younger brother by the arm and sighed loudly.
"mikes, don't attack frank. that's just childish", he said with a sternness in his voice that caught the attention from a few other people in the room.
"me, childish? but he-".
"it's just cute how you're so terrified of a little crush", frank sauntered forward, his eyes glistening with menace. "so sad and awkward and scared of cock that you told him i was your boyfriend".
mikey went to argue back, but frank lunged at him and pulled him into a kiss instead.
he knew should've pulled away instantly, but his body told him to give in, and so mikey did. he kissed frank back for three seconds too many, only realising what was happening when his mouth opened by instinct.
gerard's mouth was also open, but out of pure shock. mikey swore he saw a tear on his older brother's cheek but he had no time to check because gerard was stammering out a weak, "mikey, i can't believe you'd do that", and running out of the room. frank licked his lips, glared at a confused and slightly dazed mikey, and followed gerard out.
whatever the fuck kind of drama was going on right now, mikey did not have the capacity to give a shit. he'd caused an argument and been ditched barely an hour in. that was just typical. this is why he had his rules.
it was even more perfect when he realised he had nobody else at this party to talk to, because ray was on vacation, and he hadn't spoken to his college friends since he dropped out last semester.
mikey grumbled to himself the entire time he was crossing the busy living room, entering his bedroom and climbing out of his open window onto the fire escape. he practically jumped out of his skin when he found a boy sitting out there, hunched under a red hoodie.
"hey", he turned around, grinning. mikey let out a sigh of relief.
it was the guy from the bar.
"if you're gonna stalk me, you at least have to tell me your name", mikey said, but he actually found himself sitting down. his logic was, hey, this night couldn't get any worse, maybe if this guy was actually a stalker it'd at least spice things up a little to get stabbed or kidnapped.
"i'm pete. james invited me. we met after his show last night", the boy - pete - said, offering mikey a cigarette. "you weren't there".
"i was at work", he nodded, taking a quick drag and handing it back. "i work at the record store. it sucks but i kind of have to because i dropped out of law school last month".
"let me guess. quit your education to pursue your dream of having a music career?", pete raised an eyebrow. mikey raised one back.
"something like that. how'd you know?".
"i told you", pete said, "i have a band. i'm familiar with how other artist's brains work".
"ah, of course. i kind of do. with my brother, gerard. his best friend ray too, but we need more members - we haven't quite found our sound yet but i know for sure whatever we end up playing is gonna beat law school's ass. and now frank is acting all pissy with me and i just-".
"hey", pete's voice oddly calming. "it's okay. just sit here and watch the world like i am".
so mikey did. he tried not to think about the argument, or how crushed gerard had looked when he kissed frank back. he distracted himself the way pete had suggested - by watching the moon and the stars; by watching the traffic moving forward with the same dull buzz as cars went whizzing by; by watching the tiny ant people staggering throughout the city.
he watched the lines in the road, focused on how they were just white blurs instead of distinguishable lines. his eyesight was good with his glasses, but but that good.
most of all, he listened to pete's breathing. it was steady and loud and, oddly, it felt like home.
around fifteen minutes later, pete excused himself to go to the bathroom, so mikey decided it might be a good idea to go find gerard and apologise. he didn't even know why he'd spent so much time hanging out with the boy who he had no idea existed until now. mikey sort of found pete really interesting, though.
he looked around the living room at first, where he was immediately offered beer from a stranger which he shrugged off, only to have another one burdened upon him. he declined it again and shoved past everyone, feeling himself verging on a panic attack. fuck, he just needed to find gerard.
what mikey didn't need, however, was to open the door to frank's bedroom and he immediately faced with his roommate and older brother in a beyond compromising position, wearing not nearly enough clothes.
he couldn't even scream. he just made cripplingly awkward eye contact with them both, shut the door and then ran into the kitchen to puke in the sink.
"you good?", pete was wondering out of the bathroom around the same time that mikey was shaking and drinking rapidly from the faucet. "there was a line just to pee. you should invest in another bathroom, or tell your friends to piss faster".
from what mikey gathered through roughly twenty minutes of conversation with the boy, Pete was a thunderstorm; messy hair, distressed jeans, witty jokes and shameless flirting. there was absolutely no way he was mikey's type - romantic or platonic - and so there reason for him to ask what he asked next.
"do you wanna get out of here?".
the two left almost immediately. mikey was huddled up inside his jacket and letting pete lead the way to wherever they were going. he adored his city, especially the tall buildings in the area he lived. there was a park a few blocks away but as a rule, mikey didn't walk through it at night.
pete sort of made him forget about that rule.
nothing about the weather seemed normal at all - it was the new year but it still felt crisp and christmassy outdoors, and the trees of the park glistened with what mikey hoped wasn't snow because he hadn't brought gloves or a hat out.
"so what happened?", pete lead him to the lake and sat down on a bench. the two skipped rocks across the water until mikey took a deep breath and readied himself to speak.
"frank got pissed at me for some dumb fucking reason and then my brother, gerard, he got pissed at me too and they stormed off and when i found them again they were fucking - fucking! who the god damn hell throws a party and then leaves all the guests loose in their house while they fuck my brother".
"wait, he fucked your brother? arent you and frank dating?", he said, mikey instantly fumbling for a way to save himself and keep his lie a secret, but before he could stammer out some lame excuse, pete was leaning in close.
"i'm onto you, mikey", he whispered into the taller boy's ear, lips dangerously close, then pulled away and smiled.
before pete walked off, mikey thought they might kiss.
he actually felt disappointed when they didn't. but he had to shake that confusing little thought out of his head and launch into his explanation before pete clocked onto anything. anything else.
he'd said it once and he'd say it again. jersey was so pretty this time of year, especially at night - mikey didn't even mind the cold. the two of them walked and mikey talked, surprised pete was letting him get a word in edgeways. it can't have been later than eleven o'clock but there was barely anyone around, and the road seemed slick with ice as the walked down it, holding onto each other so that they didn't slip and fall.
"so i've got a lot of rules. everybody always makes fun of me for it", mikey was still trying to explain himself by the time they'd reached pete's apartment buildings, as it'd been a non-verbal agreement that they'd go there. he had a really fluttery feeling in his stomach that he was really not a fan of. "one of them is no flirting with cute strangers. i don't want to get my heart broke".
"it's nice to be called cute", pete smirked, letting go of the taller boy's arm so that he could let them into the building, and mikey blushed upon realising what he'd said, "but shouldn't one of your rules be no lying? it just seems moral".
"the rules aren't about morality, they're about saving me from making a mess of my life", mikey followed him up a few flights of stairs, bounding up them faster than the smaller boy because he had longer legs and a humongous stride. "like my rule about not going on upside down rollercoasters. that shit is not safe, gravity is not always on our sides".
"and shouldn't not going into a stranger's apartment be on the list?", pete unlocked his door and turned the light on, mikey taking about three steps in before he clocked onto what pete said.
"can you promise me you're not a stalker or a murderer?", his face turned white. pete went into his small kitchenette, glancing at the knife block on his countertop. "i've never used them - i can't cook. i think they're actually blunt so you're probably okay".
"so if i take a shower and crash on your couch to avoid seeing my best friend now that i know his dick has been anywhere near my brother, that's just totally fine?", mikey smiled, walking over to pete. they were so close that pete could fiddle with the collar of mikey's jacket. he did.
"it's fine as long as you don't lie to me again", the shorter boy was smirking, looking up at mikey with innocence glistening in his eyes.
"oh, i promise", mikey leant in, but pete did at the same time, so now their noses were pressed together. "you make me break all my rules, pete. i can't figure out why".
and then he was being silenced by a pair of lips on his, and jesus, this was so much better than kissing frank. this was way, way better than kissing frank, because pete didn't have an annoying tacky lip ring and his breath smelt like spearmint. mikey didn't even protest when pete had his tongue between his teeth and his fingers hooked around his belt loops.
neither of them said anything about it when it finally ended after what felt like hours. pete just nodded in the direction of the bathroom and mikey went and got into the shower, pressing his head against the unfamiliar wall. he let himself sigh as the water beat onto the nape of his neck, hot like pete’s breath had been.
if he had a rule surrounding kissing strangers with black hair and hazel eyes, he'd well and truly broken it.