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Mikey and Frank stood out of the shop, the shop that wasn’t theirs anymore. Its old name was already stripped off; Brian did have to sell it in a hurry, after all, and he’d talked Ray into selling his car to help pay off the van. The windows of the shop were dark inside, and they were both somewhat thankful for that fact. Neither of them could really handle anything inside being changed around.
“This is more depressing than I expected it to be,” Mikey said after what felt like an eternity of silence. His hands were shoved in the back pockets of his jeans as he rocked back on his heels.
Frank side-eyed him. “Dude.” After needing to be thoroughly convinced about this whole trip, the last thing he needed was to hear about any regrets Mikey was possibly having. That went without saying that lamenting outside what was now a closed chapter in Frank’s life was probably a dumb idea, but he needed to see it one last time.
Mikey glanced down at his shoes. “Sorry, Frankie. I’m still really happy we’re doing this thing. Just you wait, I bet we’re gonna be cracking jokes in no time about our own TV show or something.”
“Fuck, I’m already dreading Ray’s Supernatural references.” Frank rolled his eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Mikey smiled at that. “Yeah. I know there’s gonna be a lot of good in this. Doesn’t make this--” He extended an arm to gesture vaguely in front of him. “--any harder, though.”
Mikey reached out and temporarily slid his fingers between Frank’s to lower his hand again. “Then let’s stop making it hard. I think you’ve been sad enough recently, let’s get you a veggie burger.” Squeezing a bit tighter, he tugged Frank down the sidewalk before letting go so they could walk side by side. Mikey was good at finding ways around Frank’s wallowing, though his main go-to was diners.
Jersey was great for diners, and Frank’s favorite one was a corner place five blocks from the shop. It was run by an old Spanish woman and her daughter, both of whom already knew Frank and Mikey’s orders by heart and always welcomed them with beaming smiles and broken English. As happy as they were both to walk in, Mikey could already see in Frank’s eyes that, shit, he was really gonna fuckin’ miss this place, too.
They took their usual seats by the big window so they could watch the traffic and people walk by, sinking into the well-worn vinyl. Frank leaned forward and folded his hands on the table, unable to look up at the waitress when she came around to set down their glasses of water and say hello. The forehead scars, though still not terribly noticeable under Frank’s fringe, were still a too-fresh insecurity, and it made him feel a little guilty for possibly seeming rude.
Mikey watched the features on Frank’s face twitch. “If you had a demon-battling anthem, what would it be?” he asked, picking at his nails.
Frank hummed with a raised brow.
“Y’know. Like, big boss style showdown. What song would you want playing in the background?”
“Oh. Uh...” Frank scratched the base of his jaw. “Do I have to single it down to one song?”
Mikey sighed. “Okay, fine. Pick a band.”
“Fuck.” He already looked like he was coming safely out of his shell again. “I dunno, Bad Religion, I guess.”
Mikey picked up his water glass and chewed on an ice cube. “Alright, that’s a pretty good one. Apt name, too...I think.”
“I mean, not the reason I chose them, but good point.” Frank took his straw and tapped it hard against the tabletop to push it out of the paper wrapper. “Does Gerard like Bad Religion?”
Mikey held back a sigh. “He’s indifferent.”
Frank’s shoulders sagged when he was afraid he said something wrong, but relaxed more when Mikey nudged his ankle. “I only asked, because, y’know.”
“I do.” Mikey’s voice was quiet and casual. “I would’ve asked the same thing if I didn’t know, too. But they don’t really play songs about bashing religion or anything, they’re just anti-authority. Which Gee can get behind.”
“For a priest, he’s not--” Frank paused to get his thoughts in order. He stuck his thumb under the sweatband over his wrist, idly pressing at the scar. “I mean, he clearly knows his shit, but he’s surprisingly sort of un...priestly sometimes. Which isn’t bad. Just surprising. S’like he’s always got a loophole for all the controversies.”
Mikey nodded, letting the weight of Frank’s words sink in. “Yeah. I’ve heard it all, man, you have no idea how much thought he’s put into this. It’s impressive, if I’m being honest.” He exhaled a half-chuckle, almost indignantly. “But he’s dedicated, and he’s happy. I guess that’s really all that matters.”
“What about you?” Frank perked up again. “What band would you choose?”
“Mm, Mayhem.”
“First of all--” Frank started counting on his fingers. “--you don’t listen to Mayhem. Secondly, how does that even work? Mayhem’s shit is all devil-worshiping, so it’s like kicking their asses while complimenting them. Kinda weird, isn’t it?”
“Okay, but tell me that’s not funny.” Mikey snickered. “Also, who are you to judge, Bad Religion? And don’t even get me started with, ‘it could be any religion that’s bad’ because their logo is literally a crossed out...cross.”
Frank just scrunched his nose at him. Mikey grinned and nudged his foot again.
“Okay, okay. First cryptid off the top of your head that you wanna fight. Go.” Mikey pointed his index finger at him.
“Uh, squonk.”
Mikey choked on his water, covering his mouth when he set his glass back down. Frank handed him a napkin as his coughs melted into laughter. “The fuck is a squonk?”
“Oh my god, Mikeyway. Amateur.” Frank’s smile grew. “North Pennsylvania. They’re, like, these blobby fucks that’re so sad about being so ugly that they melt in their own tears. So they’re an easy match.”
“Oh, boo. That’s not a fight at all, that’s literally just bullying.” Mikey squinted at him with a frown. “Pick something challenging, pussy.”
“Well, what would you pick?” Frank sneered.
Mikey poked his tongue to his cheek. “Yokai. Especially the eyeball umbrella motherfucker.”
“Figures, you weeb.” Frank snorted. “I didn’t know we were allowed to pick one outside of America.”
“I didn’t give you a specific area, you just need to think outside the box.” Mikey chewed on another ice cube.
“Okay, but what if we end up fighting a cryptid? Do you think that’ll be a thing?” For the first time today, Mikey actually saw Frank’s eyes light up with excitement, and he softened slightly. He didn’t look for too long, though, in fear of making him suspicious.
Mikey just stared down into his water and swirled it around a few times. “Could be possible, you never know. Demons take many forms, if I remember correctly.”
A beat of silence passed. “Chupacabra is Mexican, right?” Frank asked.
“I think some people’ve claimed to see it in the southwest, too,” Mikey thought aloud. “Oh my god, wait, I just remembered one. This, uh, I think it’s Filipino, where there’s this lady who can split herself in half and fly.”
Frank made a noise of interest. “Split in which direction?”
Mikey only paused because their food was placed in front of them. Frank had his veggie burger with fries and Caesar dressing on the side and Mikey got a ham and cheese omelette and hash browns. “Split at the waist, so horizontally, I guess,” he continued as he picked up his fork.
Frank nodded. “Nice.”
Mikey snorted and shot him a look saying something between ‘gross’ and ‘I knew you’d say something like that’, though Frank wasn’t sure which one he meant. “Dude, okay, that’s not even the craziest part. She’s got this long-ass tongue that sucks out the fetuses of pregnant women.”
“Whaaaaaat?” Frank’s pitch raised in disbelief. “God, I love the shit people come up with. That’s so weird. I think that might be the coolest thing to fight.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Mikey agreed before shoving cheesy egg into his mouth.
They continued on during their meals, planning out how they might be able to work a D&D game around their future travels, and then sorting each other and the rest of their group into fitting classes and races. They finished and paid after two hours, since the conversation had gotten pretty deep, and Frank’s sullenness had completely vanished by the time they made it outside again.
Mikey wasn’t ready to go home just yet, though. He dragged Frank along to a record store so the van would never run out of jams. Mikey could hear Brian’s voice in the back of his head nagging that this isn’t how they should be spending their money right now, but he laid that voice to rest. Driving music was essential. Everyone knew that. As they walked, Frank lit up a cigarette and offered it to Mikey, who accepted with a quiet ‘thanks’. Mikey could tell Frank was getting back into his thoughts, but he wasn’t quick enough to speak up before Frank.
“So--” Frank rubbed the side of his neck. “--something’s been kinda weighing on my mind for a few days.”
Mikey inhaled a deep drag before handing the cigarette back to Frank. His lips only parted for the smoke to escape, waiting for Frank to continue on. His eyes softened, but a twinge of pain settled in the pit of his chest.
When Frank’s hand dropped again, he rubbed it against his other. “I’m sorry I almost convinced you to cut my hand off. That was pretty fucked up.”
Oh. That was it. A smirk twitched in the corner of Mikey’s lips, but vanished quickly. “Your life was on the line. It’s like you said, I’d rather have you alive with one hand rather than be dead with two. And, like--” The rest of his breath tumbled from his mouth heavily. He couldn’t look in Frank’s direction. “--fuck, I was so scared of losing you, dude.”
Frank kept his chin up, his mouth pressed thinly around to cigarette before he pulled it away again. “Yeah. Your brother being there was...” He waved the cigarette in another vague gesture. “I don’t wanna say fate or anything, but...”
“D’you think we could’ve ever figured that whole thing out without him?” Mikey asked without thinking, and the pain in his chest swelled. He knew he shouldn’t have said that, and he could tell Frank didn’t exactly like hearing the question either. It didn’t seem relevant, yet some part of Mikey needed to know.
Frank shook his head. “I mean, he had all the books.”
“Yeah, but--”
“And he kept the pain away, you know that.”
“I do know that.” Mikey’s nostrils flared, and he stole the cigarette. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up. Forget I said anything.” When he passed the smoke back, he pulled his phone out to start texting everyone (except Brian, because Mikey wasn’t in the mood right now for a lecture about finances) about what albums they wanted to bring on the road. “Having both of you around’s gonna be awesome.” And he really did mean that, despite the anxiousness coiling at the base of his spine.
After the record store, the sky started to darken. After grabbing a bag from Frank’s place carrying stuff to last him until tomorrow, they decided to head back to Mikey’s apartment, even though all of his stuff had been packed up and stored away in his parents’ attic. It was difficult to look at the space so empty, even though Mikey hadn’t really decorated it much beforehand. It just didn’t feel like Mikey’s home anymore. The furniture stayed, at least, and he’d kept his laptop around just to keep himself from being too bored for the last day.
Frank had no problem making himself comfortable, flopping down onto Mikey’s couch. He groaned when his back pressed against the hard arm, reminded too late that the pillows Mikey usually kept on them were gone, too.
Mikey held back a chuckle and set the bag of CDs by the door while he got his laptop to set on the coffee table. “Wanna put on some movies or something?” he offered. “I got Evil Dead.”
“Hell yeah.” Frank knew Mikey’s password already, and he looked up the movie while Mikey got them both bottles of water from the kitchen. Frank leaned back to make room for Mikey to curl up, and Mikey sat and pressed himself against Frank’s side.
Mikey sort of loved not needing to talk to fill in the silence, even though he loved picking at Frank’s brain for random things. He got so comfortable at some point, though, because Frank’s voice was waking him back up.
“Man, I totally could’ve replaced my hand with a weapon,” Frank groaned. “But I don’t really know what’d be a good fit besides, like, a dagger or something. As sick as a whole chainsaw would be, I’ve already fucked up enough of my tattoos on my back.”
Mikey huffed out his nose. “Shut up, Frankie. I like your hand.” He wrapped his own hand around Frank’s cursed tattoo, rubbing his thumb slowly over it. The more he touched it, the more his own hands ached with envy. What he wouldn’t have given to take Frank’s pain away, why did Gerard always have to swoop in and take everything from him?
“You okay?” Frank asked suddenly. For once, Mikey wasn’t sure what his own face was doing, and by Frank’s concerned stare, it must’ve been a bad look. “Mikes?”
“I hate that I couldn’t help you enough,” Mikey whispered, gently squeezing Frank’s hand.
Frank wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He just sat there, one of his legs trapped under Mikey’s, his brow knotted hard as he just watched his best friend skim over the HALLO on his fingers, and the cursed wings, and suddenly Mikey’s fingers were replaced by his lips.
Mikey’s own hands were trembling. From fear, from jealousy, fuck, maybe it was something else altogether. But he was kissing the tattoo like Frank would imagine someone kissing the Virgin Mary, and for a few seconds, they both forgot what breathing was. That frightened Frank for a moment, mainly because the last time he’d forgotten how to breathe was when immaculate suffering had wrought his body, but this wasn’t suffering. Was it?
Frank couldn’t be with Gerard. It just wasn’t plausible, but this really wasn’t either. Mikey did know how to take care of him, Mikey was ride or die for Frank. And yet.
“Why would you say that?” Frank finally spoke up once his ears stopped ringing, and he faintly shook his head. “Mikey, fuck, you’re so important. You...you did help. You were there when I needed you”.
Mikey’s eyes glossed over behind his glasses as he stared at Frank. He didn’t feel himself move closer, but he was somehow doing it anyway, until he could feel his cupid’s bow ghost over Frank’s. It was strange; Mikey was usually the one with his own gravitational pull, but here he was, so alight with hunger and ache and so hesitant.
Frank tilted his own head down slightly so that their foreheads pressed together, and he breathed in deeply. “You know I love you, dude.”
Mikey couldn’t say it back. If he did, it wouldn’t mean the same thing. The thought burned his throat and he shut his eyes tight, trying to be grateful that he could at least have Frank this close. That he could have Frank love him in any capacity. “Frankie.”
“We’ve got a long day tomorrow,” Frank reminded him in barely a whisper. “Can we just sleep?”
“I can just sleep in my bed,” Mikey croaked, keeping his gaze down. His hands pulled away, hugging himself instead.
Frank shook his head. “No, I’m gonna get cold without you.”
It felt good to be needed.
The next morning, and hour after dawn, Gerard was knocking on Mikey’s door. “Mikey, c’mon! Everyone’s waiting outside for you, and we gotta pick up--” His tongue stilled when Frank answered the door.
“Morning,” Frank mumbled as he rubbed an eye. His bag was slung over his back, and he shuffled out of Gerard’s way. “Where’re you guys parked?”
“...Nevermind!” Gerard called out to Mikey’s living room. “Uh, down at the street corner.”
“You brought coffee, right?” Mikey called when he slid on a backpack and picked up the bag of CDs.
“In the van.” Gerard blinked. “You guys okay?”
Mikey gave his ever famously casual half-shrug. When he closed his front door behind him, he locked up and twirled the keyring on his finger. “Just gotta drop these off at the main office and I’ll be right down.”
Gerard relaxed slightly. “It’s good that you weren’t alone for the last night. Explains why you didn’t respond to my texts, though.”
Mikey almost scowled. He was internally pissd that Gerard didn’t look mad or bitter, but it wasn’t a feeling he didn’t want festering. There were bigger things to worry about. “Sorry. We’re okay, though.”
Gerard smiled, resting his hand on Mikey’s shoulder. “Yeah. Alright, now hurry up so we can get going.”
Mikey turned and saw Frank waiting for them at the end of the hall with a sleepy smile, and the bitterness slowly ebbed away.