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Soulbonds are supposed to build gradually, over a few days or so, while you get to know each other a little. No, not build, Frank reminds himself. They’re supposed to become noticeable once you’ve met your soulmate a few times. The first meeting is usually intense, you’re supposed to meet and immediately recognize each other. After that, the bond is just a matter of waiting for a while.
It’s been a few weeks at this point, and Frank is clinging to his belief that it’ll happen soon, anytime now, not much longer and he’ll be able to feel something. It just all takes a bit, he’s always been sick a lot, his body pretty much sucks, no wonder it’s going slow. Not to speak of Mikey and all his mental health struggles. His brain is making things difficult as well, especially since Frank is pretty sure there’s a lot of brain stuff involved in getting the telepathic soulbond link established. They’re both a little broken, and that just means they’re perfect for each other.
At least that’s what Frank thinks, and he knows Mikey does too. Frank barely remembers him from when he tried out for Pencey, but there was something intriguing about him when Frank saw him in My Chem the first time, back before he joined the band. He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of Mikey ever since. There’s no way there’s anyone else out there for Frank.
“I know it will happen,” he whispers into Mikey’s skin in the dark. “It has to.” He’s wrinkling Mikey’s shirt in his tight grip, but he can’t make himself let go.
Mikey pulls him close and kisses him, his hands in Frank’s hair. “I love you, Frankie,” he whispers back. “Soulmates or not.”
Frank hates it when Mikey says shit like that. It hurts just thinking about it, so Frank prefers to simply not do that. He knows the bond will happen, eventually. He’s sure. He deepens the kiss to shut Mikey up, mouths and sucks on his Adam’s apple until all Mikey can do is make those little clicky noises in his throat and gasp, then Frank slinks even lower to make him forget any halfway coherent thoughts he might have still had. He knows how to coax sighs and moans from Mikey and make him claw at the sheets.
When they’re lying together afterward, he doesn’t say it again, but he knows he’s right. One day.
Mikey meets Pete and it’s like he’s been hit by a fucking stroke of lightning. He sneaks off to Fall Out Boy’s bus more often than Frank can even count and he doesn’t stop talking to Pete, about Pete, texting Pete, or making out with Pete.
That’s it for them. Frank knows it immediately. There’s no way he can compete with Pete and his and Mikey’s connection. Their soulbond didn’t even take time to come to life, it just clicked and there it fucking was, in full force. Mikey’s told him about it. Has told him how he looked into Pete’s eyes and knew, how Pete’s emotions hit him like a truck when the link switched on and they both realized immediately that they were made for each other.
“I’m happy for you,” Frank brings out, even though he’s fucking miserable. He just wants to throw up, to run away and never come back, forget he and Mikey ever met.
Except he can’t. Because he still fucking loves Mikey and he believes in this band and he could never leave his friends behind. They’re going to have to tell him to go. He hopes they’ll make it through this tour, but every night after they finish their show, he halfway expects Gerard to take him aside and tell him in that awfully calm and reasonable and compassionate voice that Mikey’s his brother and that he was in the band first and it’s time for Frank to leave. He grits his teeth and plays like every show is his last, but the talk never comes.
He can’t look at them.
All of Mikey’s smiles belong to Pete now. The quiet ones when he’s silently pleased and content, the shy ones he doesn’t want anyone to see, the genuine ones he can’t hide. He laughs loudly and openly at every one of Pete’s shitty jokes, he giggles at his terrible lines, he grins at Frank over Pete’s shoulder when he’s riding him piggyback.
Frank just wants to fucking cry.
One night, he somehow finds himself lying next to Mikey, on the ground behind the bus. It’s dark and it reminds Frank of all those whispered conversations they’ve had like this, the darkness making them braver, the truths they’ve told and promises they’ve given each other. He mourns the fact it’s never going to happen again.
“It’s amazing,” Mikey murmurs into Frank’s ear, just like he always used to. “It’s impossible to describe what it feels like; I know what he feels even though he’s on the other end of the city, I can feel his heartbeat. I know if he’s happy or stressed or horny or lonely. His head is fucked up just like mine. He’s got that big smile when he’s with others, but it’s not always true. He gets so goddamn sad sometimes, it’s like it’s ripping my heart out. He’s so fucking intense. Sometimes it’s so overwhelming I’m not sure where he ends and I begin.”
Frank sits up and wraps his arms around his knees against the sudden chill, as tightly as he can. “Why are you telling me that?” The pain of rejection is so much more sharp and cruel when Mikey tells him how much Frank is lacking. He doesn’t want to hear how perfectly Mikey and Pete fit together while he’s still grieving what they had.
Mikey sits up as well. “I love you.” He says it like he didn’t spend the past week in the bliss of finally having found his soulmate and spending every second at his side or in his head, like it still means something. “I want you to know what’s going on in my life. I know I’ve been spending a lot of time with Pete, it’s just still so fucking new—”
Frank doesn’t let him finish. “Why are you here now then? Does it make you happy to see me fucking wrecked?” There are angry tears running down his cheeks, he’s hot and embarrassed, how could he ever think he and Mikey would make it together?
“What?” Mikey’s voice is as shocked as Frank’s is hurt. “Does it make me…” He stops and Frank can see the wheels in his head turning. “Frankie…” Mikey reaches out but Frank pulls his legs closer to his chest and tightens his grip. Mikey looks white as a ghost in the dark, his eyes huge and haunted.
Frank’s chest is going to burst with all the things he hasn’t said, things he can’t admit to himself or it would crack him apart. He still wants Mikey.
“This changes nothing between us.” Mikey’s voice is thin and shocked. “This doesn’t change my feelings for you. I’m sorry if I neglected you—”
“If?” Frank accuses. He’s grinding his teeth. This is too fucking much. Mikey hasn’t been paying attention to him at all since he’s met Pete and now he says it doesn’t change anything? How’s that supposed to work then? Like Frank wants to be the sad loser who stuck around after his boyfriend found his soulmate because he didn’t want to be alone. He doesn’t want to wake up to Mikey and Pete’s picture-perfect love every fucking day. “Just fucking say it’s over.”
“Frankie,” Mikey tries again. He shuffles closer and this time Frank’s defeated enough that he lets him take one of his cold hands. Mikey just holds it for a moment and rubs his thumbs over Frank’s knuckles. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out again and Frank has to look away. He doesn’t want to hear Mikey breaking up with him, telling him it’s not enough, that it was clear from the start where this was going to end.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I didn’t… I thought you knew. No soulmate could ever make me want to leave you.” Mikey runs his free hand over Frank’s knees, his arms, pushes it through Frank’s hair. It makes the pain in Frank’s chest sweeter. “I didn’t know that was what you thought was happening. I’d never leave you,” he whispers.
Frank can’t resist Mikey’s comforting touches any longer and sinks into his embrace, knees still pulled up to his chest. He wants to believe Mikey is telling him the truth, that they can still work this out. That he still wants him.
“I love you,” Mikey reassures him again, his hand protectively cradling Frank’s head against his shoulder. “I meant it when I said I don’t care if we’ve got a soulbond. I don’t need any kind of magic or biology or whatever the fuck to tell me. We’re soulmates anyway, link or not.” His voice is fierce, but the kiss he presses to Frank’s temple is gentle.
They stay like that for a long, long time and eventually, Frank begins to slowly unwind. He hides his face against Mikey’s neck as he admits in a halting voice how afraid and hurt he’s been, how shitty he’s been feeling, how he’d worried they’d kick him out and leave him alone and broken.
He’s pretty sure they’re both crying at some point. Mikey apologizes again, for not being there, for not noticing, for not talking to Frank. His hands don’t still on Frank’s back and he doesn’t stop telling Frank how much he loves him. He doesn’t mention Pete again, but Frank knows they’re going to need to have that talk, and soon.
They end up in Frank’s bunk together, Mikey’s naked chest warming his back, his body curled around him like a shield, and his lips against the nape of Frank’s neck.
Things are still hard after that. Mikey makes a genuine effort to split the time and attention he gives Frank and Pete and it gets a little easier for Frank to see him go when he visits Pete. It’s not like he doesn’t remember what it was like when Mikey and him got together. He grits his teeth and admits it’s probably even more intense when a soulbond is involved, even though he hates that. He tells himself Mikey and him fit together just as well, and it’s easier to believe when Mikey brings him flowers he finds growing at the edge of whatever huge parking lot their buses are staying on for the day’s stop, or when he comes back smiling from watching Pete play and backs Frank up against the wall to kiss him breathless.
Frank’s hanging out in the bus lounge and fucking around on his phone the first time he feels it. It’s not like he’s unhappy in that moment, but he feels a sudden stab of unbridled joy that makes him gasp before it flickers out again.
“Everything okay, Frankie?” Gerard asks as Frank raises his hand to cover his suddenly pounding heart.
A laugh bubbles out of his mouth. “Yeah,” he pants. He can still feel the echo of happiness ring through his body and it’s… strange, even though it’s nice.
Mikey comes back half an hour later, asks if he can tell Frank how it was on the stage with Fall Out Boy, and doesn’t stop gushing about how much fun it was for a long time.
Frank plays with his hair and tries to get used to it.
It happens a second time when he’s lazily making out with Mikey in his bunk. It kind of smells like Pete in here, but right now, Frank is barely even bothered by it. He’s sucking Mikey’s lip into his mouth and scrapes his teeth over it when things suddenly feel… amplified. It’s more intense, there’s a pinch in Frank’s own lower lip. He opens his eyes to find Mikey already looking at him. He bites down a little harder and Mikey’s eyes snap shut again.
Frank doesn’t ask because he can’t be sure and he’s not going to say something and jinx everything.
The third time it happens is two more days later. It’s a lot less pleasant and at first, Frank doesn’t realize what’s happening. There’s a dull ache in his chest that he can’t explain. He worries for a second that his shitty lungs are making trouble again, but that usually feels different. It’s more like watching a heartwrenching movie or the sinking feeling of getting bad news. It feels a lot like lying awake at night, not being able to sleep because you’re tortured by your thoughts.
It’s that realization that gets Frank wondering. Because he’s been feeling like that a lot recently, but it got better after he and Mikey talked and Mikey started spending more time with him again. This isn’t from him. His heart starts beating faster but he doesn’t want to open himself to the possibility of getting bitterly disappointed if he turns out to be wrong. He’d be gutted. He can’t allow himself to hope. Especially since he’s not sure it’s even making sense.
It keeps happening. Sometimes a few times in quick succession, sometimes for a few minutes at once.
One time Frank’s in his bunk jerking off. His arousal feels different than it usually does, not just a pulsing in his abdomen, but also a fire crawling through his veins. He moves faster. It’s like there’s a feedback loop in his head that pushes him higher and higher. When he’s thumbing his nipples afterward, enjoying his afterglow, he feels – it’s weird to describe, but there’s no other way to say it. He feels kissed. He tries to lean into it, licks his lips, rubs them together, and keeps touching himself. He’s tapped into something and he doesn’t want to let it go.
Mikey is really the only person he can ask about it, which sucks because Mikey is also the person all of this is about.
Frank decides to try something else and hides away with his laptop, but instead of watching porn like Ray joked, he opens an incognito window and googles what does a soulbond feel like?
Some people describe it as having someone else inside your head. One person says it feels like a walkie-talkie except for sharing feelings. He finds someone who can feel their soulmate’s physical sensations.
He sees himself in bits and pieces of what he reads, but no one has had the same experiences as him. He doesn’t read anything about a soulbond taking years to even begin forming. There’s nothing about having two bonds. He chews his lip but he can’t give up the hope that’s started growing in his heart despite his best efforts. He’s always said it was going to happen, and now that it seems he might have been right, he hesitates.
Frank is holding Mikey’s hand and Mikey leans in for a kiss. Neither of them wants to pull back, but suddenly there’s a weird mix of feelings in Frank’s chest, a spike of jealousy fighting with something else. The jealousy is familiar, but that other thing… It's confusing. It takes Frank a moment to recognize it. It’s being happy for someone else, but there’s a desire in there too, the three emotions ebbing and flowing, swirling into each other. Frank sometimes feels a bit like that, when he catches a glimpse of Mikey and Pete.
His eyes snap open, he tries to look behind Mikey without letting him notice what he’s doing, and then he’s met with Pete’s wide-eyed stare. Pete’s bangs are hanging into his kohl-rimmed eyes and he looks as surprised as Frank is. He’s got these big, dark eyes that always seem like windows directly into his soul.
Frank closes his eyes again. When he and Mikey break apart, Pete is gone.
That night, Pete’s in front of their bus with a bottle of cheap alcohol and kidnaps Frank to have a talk.
He doesn’t waste time. “You’ve felt it, right?” He’s determined, refusing to look away even though his voice wavers a bit.
Frank rubs at his face and takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he admits.
“And not just Mikey.” He states it as a matter of fact.
“No, not just Mikey, I’m pretty sure.”
Pete nods seriously. His gaze is so intense, Frank feels uncomfortable, scrutinized. “You know,” Pete begins, “I never really thought I’d ever have a soulmate.” He kicks at the ground. “I’ve always wanted one, but how could anyone deal with my shit, right?”
Frank has no idea what to say to that. This isn’t what he thought Pete wanted to talk about. It’s fucking weird, they’ve got a soulbond, it’s undeniable at this point, and Frank can barely even talk to him.
“And now. Now I’ve got two.” He’s looking at Frank with those fucking puppy eyes. “I don’t know why, I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Frank huffs, he doesn’t have an answer. “Neither have I.” He gestures for Pete’s bottle, takes a swig, and wipes his mouth off. “We’ve been a couple for years. We never had any kind of soulbond, and then you fucker come around and bang there it is.” He adds a muttered, “I fucking hated you.”
Pete’s laugh sounds nervous and he steals the booze back and drinks deep.
“Nothing against you personally.” This situation is so fucking absurd. Pete is weird, but there has to be something about him or Mikey wouldn’t like him. Frank can’t help but giggle when he considers their similarities. They’re both pretty short and they’ve both got a whole bunch of tattoos. Apparently, Pete is a nuisance on stage just like Frank, except Patrick doesn’t let him lick his face. Maybe Pete can still learn a thing or two from Frank.
Pete starts talking again, about Mikey and what it was like to meet him, their connection, the moment he started to suspect there was something more going on – the first time he thought there was something coming through the link that wasn’t from Mikey – and Frank just needs him to shut up, at least for a while. “You wanna make out?” he blurts and Pete halts in his tracks. Shit. Maybe that was a bit forward. He’s gotta save this somehow. “Send Mikey some nice feelings?”
Pete’s face unfreezes and his huge smile appears. The one Mikey said wasn’t always genuine. It’s a little disconcerting, but people say that about Frank’s grin too, so maybe that’s just another similarity. “Do you often make out with other random people?”
“No.” Frank remembers three days ago when he leaned in to kiss Gerard during Ray’s solo and Gerard straight up refused to let go of him and pushed his tongue down Frank’s throat instead and how that really wasn’t the first time. He reconsiders. “It just happens sometimes, I guess.”
Pete is still grinning, but his eyes keep sliding down to Frank’s mouth. “Might as well, right? Mikey kind of made me curious anyway. He’s told me about your first kiss. He said it was different than any other he’s had and like, he’s had a lot.” His gaze is kind of assessing.
No surprise Pete gets sad when he’s had Mikey tell him about him and Frank. Frank wouldn’t want to know that if he was in Pete’s place. On the other hand, he’s got the fucking soulbond, there’s nothing for him to worry about. Not like Frank worries. He just needs to stop thinking about this.
It’s one of the most awkward kisses he’s ever had. They’re both hesitant and Frank’s already pulling back again when Pete puts a hand on his arm and holds onto him. It’s really warm, the fingertips rough like Mikey’s, but not sweaty. Frank didn’t feel any kind of soulbond-y activity with Mikey, but maybe Pete did. He must have, Frank remembers. His isn’t a frail and fickle shit like Frank’s.
“Weird, right?” Pete’s eyes seem even bigger this close up. There’s a spark in them, but Frank can’t tell if he’s nervous or amused. Pete closes the gap between them again and this time, it feels a little more natural. Frank gets into it after a minute.
When he opens his eyes, he’s on his knees, leaning over Pete’s lap with his hands braced on the ground on both sides of him. Pete’s leaning back far enough that he’s down on his elbows and looking up at Frank through his bangs and his dark, dark lashes. Frank’s heart starts pounding even faster at his expression, a mix of vulnerability and dare. He leans down deliberately to capture Pete’s lips. It’s slow this time, purposeful. Pete tastes sharp like alcohol, his lips are rough and chapped from the sun. His hand wanders up from Frank’s elbow to his neck, his knees press against Frank’s hips, then there’s a jolt shooting from the crown of Frank’s head through his chest, running along his arms and legs until it fizzles out in his toes.
Suddenly he can feel everything. There’s Pete in his head, his heartbeat fast and heavy, a light-headed joy tinged with something darker. Frank pulls back and pants into his face, more from the intensity of the link than what they’ve been doing.
He can feel Mikey as well and it’s too much to bear. Frank’s head sinks down until his forehead rests against Pete’s chest. It’s weird because he just knows it’s Mikey. Sure, there’s no one else it could be, it wouldn’t make any sense, but it just feels like him. Frank has known him long enough, knows him well enough that he just senses the intense Mikey-ness of the person on the other end of the link. There’s surprise there, hope, anxiety.
Frank curses into Pete’s chest. This is so much more than he imagined. It’s not going to break off again, it can’t, it’s too solid. He can’t believe the soulbond is this strong, this elaborate for normal people. He’s kind of worried about how he’s supposed to get used to this. “I need to find him,” he chokes out and scrambles off Pete.
He meets Mikey when he’s halfway back to the bus; it’s like they’re connected by an invisible thread. They fall into each other’s arms and squeeze hard enough that neither can breathe for a moment. Frank fists Mikey’s hair and slams his eyes shut. “I knew it,” he gasps, “I always knew it would happen.” He can’t stop the tears spilling from the corners of his eyes.
“You did,” Mikey whispers. His fingers are digging into Frank’s back. “Pretty sure your stubbornness made fate change its mind.”
Frank swallows thickly. “Fate knows fuck-all about real soulmates.”