Work Text:
"Gee! Frank! Ray! Get in here, we're gonna play some wicked truth or dare!" Mikey's excited shouts come from the living room, and I grunt out of annoyance. I'm in the middle of a sketch, and I definitely don't need it to be interrupted by some silly playground game of truth or dare. However, something urges me to partake in the festivities, if you will, so I throw down my pencil and ascend to the upstairs portion of my house.
Ray, Mikey, Bob, Frank, and I are all staying here while we wait for our next concert, which should be coming up in a few days, if the weather chooses to cooperate. Unfortunately, we've had a lot of trouble trying to get shows and spots in concerts to play. We're not too popular, but for coming from New Jersey, I'd say we're pretty far along. We've just released our new album, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, and we're slowly gaining popularity with the teenage population.
Currently, Donna is nowhere to be seen, so I assume that she's out with some friends or shopping.
I arrive at the top of the staircase to see Mikey reclined in one of the chairs in the living room, and Ray settles down beside Bob in front of the longer couch on the floor. Frank leaps over the back of the couch and lands on the cushion with a soft thud, and I can't help but to stare at him. He's perfect, actually. The hair, the face shape, the tattoos...
Snapping out of my haze, I turn my attention back to the big picture, which is the band waiting for me to hurry up and sit down. I bite my lip and decide to sit next to Frank, and he leans into me. I don't know what it is, but he makes me so happy. So warm. So...
"Gee, c'mon, pay attention," Ray snaps, and I look down at him. His hair is a mass of untamable, long curls. His hair is very soft when it's in its natural state, but normally, he has so much product in it that it's usually crispy or something like that. Mikey nods curtly, and then he claps his hands together. As usual, his glasses are at the very edge of his nose, threatening to fall off any moment. I don't even think he uses glasses for their intended purpose; they're simply a fashion statement for him. "So, let's start. Ray, you wanna hit us off?" Mikey says with a kind of urge, which he tries to conceal with a smile.
Ray smirks and nods, looks at Bob, who also nods, and then to Mikey, who nods back. What is everyone nodding about? I feel as though I should probably nod as well, but I don't, because I have no idea why I would be nodding. "Okay, then," Ray starts, biting his lip and looking around the room, "Hmm. Okay, Mikey, truth or dare?"
Mikey glances up towards the ceiling, a mockingly thoughtful expression playing across his face. "Let's see. How about... Truth!" he announces, throwing his hands up into the air. What has gotten into him?
Everyone giggles wildly, shaking their heads. I'm so confused by everything that I just laugh along, and Frank shifts so that his head is against my chest. It's taking all of my composure to not get a boner or something, because Frank is just so...
"Okay. Is it true that you had those weird circle glasses in high school?" Ray asks slowly, and Mikey rolls his eyes while nodding, ashamed. "Oh, God, please don't mention those," he whines, and we all laugh. I remember those glasses; they were absolutely awful. Ray smiles and then glances at Mikey, and they both wink. Mikey clears his throat and looks around, his eyes landing on me. Shit.
He knits his hands together thoughtfully, and drawls, "Oh Gerard, oh Gerard. What will it be? The 'T' or the 'D'?" Bob's eyes dart from me to Frank, and he chuckles like a mad scientist. Completely oblivious to their little scheme, I shrug and reply, "Truth." Everyone grunts out of frustration, except for Frank, who sneezes quietly. "I think I'm coming down with a cold," he mumbles drearily, and I run and hand through his hair. "Aw, poor 'lil Frankie, all sick," I mock, and he slaps me, all sign of play absent. That actually hurt.
Mikey looks at me, intent on getting his way. Whatever that is, anyways. His eyes then light up cheerfully, and then he snaps his finger. "Eureka! Not only is this truth or dare," he cries out triumphantly, "It's strip truth or dare!"
Bob and Ray smile maliciously, gazing at Frank and I. My heart drops all of a sudden, as I've just caught onto their plan.
Oh hell no.
Ever since Frank had joined the band, everyone has had this idea that I can't keep my eyes off of him. As though I like him or something. Which I do, but I don't make it that obvious, do I?
"No, no, no!" I exclaim angrily, crossing my arms stubbornly, "There's no way I'm gonna... I'm done!" I make to stand up, but Ray shoots up into a standing position quicker than a bullet and throws himself at me. While doing this, he crushes Frank against my chest, and everything ends as a full out tackle-match between me, Frank, Ray, and somehow Bob. Mikey claps his hands for order, calling, "No, no! Guys, chill!" After a few minutes of screaming and kicking and pushing and punching, we all calm down, and Ray ensures that I stay seated next to an eager-looking Frank.
Everyone sits back down, and, defeated, I lean against the back of the sofa. Frank throws his legs across me and sits with his back propped up against the arm of the sofa. I ignore the position and attempt to burn holes into Mikey's awkward knees, which are crossed at odd angles. "And if you don't know what strip truth or dare is, allow me to enlighten you. You'll receive the initial question of 'truth or dare?', to which you'll respond either truth or dare. Then, the questioner or dare-giver will ask you a question or give you a dare, and if you don't want to answer it or follow through on the dare, then you are allowed to remove an article of clothing.
"And no, you can't do one glove or sock at a time. Not a watch or a hat. No, like shirt. Then pants. And all the way to your boxers. The first one to be stripped down completely is the loser," Mikey explains with an eager, anxious tone in his voice. He's way too excited about this. However dumb the game may sound, I'm kind of looking forward to it, if it means seeing Frank get naked that the band gets to bond in a nonviolent way.
"Okay, fine," I agree finally, to which the band howls with eager exclamations. Mikey throws his head back and laughs like he's about to murder his longtime nemesis or something. "Great. Let's see... You said truth? Okay. Out of everyone in this room, who would you make out with?" he begins, his lips curling into an insane grin. My heart leaps to my throat, and my eyes widen. All eyes turn to me, including Frank, who bats them incredulously. Of course I'd make out with Frank, but there's no way that I'm going to give the band the satisfaction of me admitting that.
Instead, I sigh and pull off my hoodie, glad that I had decided to wear pants and a shirt today. Any other day, it'd be boxers and a hoodie. But today, I had a feeling that I would need to be dressed for anything. And obviously, I was right. Everyone lets out a groan of protest, but Mikey shushes them. "Gerard is more chicken than an actual chicken, so let's continue. Since he didn't fulfill his question, I get to ask again. What about you, Frank? Who would you make out with?" he recovers smoothly, and all eyes are on him.
"I didn't say truth or dare," Frank says irritably, so Mikey asks, "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
Everyone laughs heartily and rolls their eyes, and Mikey flips his hand expectantly. "Okay. Same question."
Frank purses his lips, and then admits, "Gerard. All of you have such crusty-ass lips that I'd probably catch something. Plus, Gerard's better looking than all of you. Combined."
There's a huge explosion of cheers as my face reddens wildly, and I cover my face with my removed hoodie. Oh my gosh. He had just called me good-looking and said that he would totally make out with me.
When the cheering subsides, Frank clears his throat and waits for everyone to shut up. "Let's see, let's see. Bob? Truth or dare?"
"Unlike all of you sissies, I'm gonna choose dare," Bob announces proudly, as though he expects us to applaud him. Instead, we all squint at him skeptically. He's relatively new, and though we love him, he's very different. "Okay then," Frank chokes on the words for some reason, and then falls into a fit of coughing. I pound him on the back and laugh silently. He's being very dramatic, wildly waving his hands all over the place and hacking like a dying cat.
When he finishes coughing, he sits back with a relieved sigh, and then turns back to Bob. "Let's see, then. I dare you to..." Frank begins, and then his eyes lighten up, "Yes! I dare you to smell Ray's hair."
We all giggle like children, and Ray's eyes grow as wide as discs. "Oh hell to the no!" Ray cries, grabbing his fro and standing up, running out of the room. Bob follows him, out of shape, and attempts to keep up. None of us are very athletic, especially not Bob, but he puts up some kind of effort.
"Get'em, Bob!" Frank calls, and Mikey and I exchange amused glances before hollering at the chase. There's a sharp cry and the sound of someone being hit, and Bob yells out in pain. "Little fuck! Get back here!" Right after, Ray screeches and there's a huge crashing noise as he grunts in agony and probably falls. This is followed by a long sniff sound, and Bob cries out a victorious, "Aha!"
Mikey, Frank, and I all burst into gales of hysteric laughter, shaking our heads and cheering as Bob enters the living room. "How–How did it smell?" I manage to choke out between gasps for air, and Bob shrugs. "Very pampered. Like coconut or something..."
"Yeah, idiot, because I use coconut hibiscus shampoo!" Ray calls from the kitchen as he fixes whatever he had jacked up. We continue laughing until our sides hurt, and everyone finishes the fit with their stomachs clutched. "Ah. Okay, Bob, your turn," Frank gasps, and wipes away a tear.
Bob looks around the room, and his eyes land on Mikey. "M'kay. Mikes, truth or dare?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. Mikey repositions his glasses, and then answers, "I'll take truth. I'm not going to risk my hide just for a dare. Donna would be pissed if we broke anything." We all grimace in unison, and then Bob strokes his thick stubble.
"Alright then. Out of every item in this house, what would be the worst to masturbate with?" he tests slyly, and we go silent. Though there's an unspoken truth that we all do it, no one mentions their masturbation habits. It's just unnatural to actually talk about it, and Mikey obviously is thinking along the same lines as I am. "That's a very weird question," Mikey utters, suddenly becoming very interested with a string on his black pants, "But probably a knife. Umm. Yeah. Definitely wouldn't want to do the do with a knife..."
I chuckle dryly, but no one joins, so I quickly mask it with a cough. That got awkward real quick. "Okay, my turn then," Mikey breaks the silence, "Gee, truth or dare?" I bite my tongue, and since I'm afraid of any of the truth question they'll come up with, I quickly spit, "Dare!" Everyone sighs out of relief, and Mikey smirks at me. "Ah. I dare you to kiss Frank on the cheek. Just a peck, Gee, you already look like a fucking tomato."
It's true; I can feel my face warming up. This is the whole reason why they created this game, just so that they could see their favorite "couple" (or OTP, I believe the term is) become a thing. And I refuse to give them any bit of that kind of happiness. They won't get anything out of me, at least. I refuse to follow up on the dare, and finally give up by pulling my shirt over my head. Though I'm quite insecure about my stomach and my chest, as I was once very large, I'd rather it be my chest than my legs and my boxers.
I expect another round of sighs, but I catch on, rather late, to yet another goal of the game; to get me naked in front of Frank. So no matter which way I play, I'll lose. "Wimp. Okay, I'll ask you again. Truth or dare?" Mikey states persistently, and I glare at him. "You can't ask me two time in a row!" I cry defensively.
"I can do whatever the fuck I want, because I'm the one who started the game. Truth or dare?" Mikey asks hotly through gritted teeth, clearly irritated. I growl at him and cross my arms, Frank's legs still on my own. That's another thing. If I were to be stripped down all the way to my boxers and his legs were still there, there's no doubt in my mind that I'd get a boner. A very noticeable one.
I try to decide between truth or dare, and finally declare, "Dare." I know that I want to do something with Frank. Fuck, do I want that so badly. But between admitting my love for him and partaking in foolish play, I'd take the second option. Mikey nods and bites his lip, and then contests, "I dare you to kiss Frank on the hand. If you don't do that, then fuck. You'll be the buzzkill of all fun." I roll my eyes at the very immature dare, but decide to follow through on this one.
Frank shoves his hand into my face, bringing his other hand to his mouth and giggling in a purposely feminine way. Judging by the snickers of the rest of the guys, I assume that they think this is hilarious. That their plan is falling into place.
I grab Frank's hand and bring it slowly to my lips, planting a soft and dry kiss on the back of it, and the band goes wild. Batshit crazy. They're hoots and hollers and calling out, and I eventually have to shut them up due to a pounding headache forming at my temple. "Hey. Hey! Shut up!" I exclaim, very annoyed. They all stop immediately, though there's an occasional hiccup or muffled giggle.
Childish.
I realize that it's my turn, for once, and I look around to see who my victim shall be. Deciding on Ray, I decide to have some fun. "Okay, Ray. Truth or dare?" the question pours from my mouth smoothly, and I'm quite surprised by the sudden passion I'm putting into my dialogue. Is it possibly excitement? Perhaps.
"Truth. No, dare! Ah, truth, dare, eeny, meeny, miney, fro... Dare," he decides hesitantly, and I raise my eyebrows in response. They may have their "Frerard" shit, but I know quite a few fans that would die just to see "Rikey" take place. "Lovely," I hiss, to which Ray furrows his brow, "I dare you to go sit on Mikey's lap for the rest of the game."
Mikey and Ray immediately exchange nervous glances, but with a defeated sigh, Ray forces himself to stand up and walk over to Mikey, plopping down onto Mikey's lap. Mikes gives me an incredulous look, and then sticks out his tongue, mouthing "fuck you".
I smirk, but Ray is far from over. He and Mikey won't give up until me and Frank get freaky, if you know what I mean. "That's okay. Truth or dare, Frankie?" Ray asks innocently, but the intention behind those words is far from innocent.
"Dare," Frank replies smoothly, crossing his legs on my lap. I draw a shaky breath, because even though I'm sheepish about my love for Frank, he's not in any way secretive for his attraction to me. He constantly makes excuses for magically appearing in the bathroom while I'm showering, and my towel will suddenly go missing as well. Frank constantly maintains physical contact with me, whether it's playing with my hair, kissing me lightly on the cheek, or even holding my hand at times. He's very clingy and very protective.
Ray smirks, whispers something in Mikey's ear, and upon Mikey's bid of approval, he says, "I dare you to grab Gerard's hair and pull it." How this is anything out of the ordinary, I'm not sure, but I'm feeling unusually horny at the moment. That may or may not explain why a small, desperate moan escapes my mouth when Frank shrugs and carries through on the dare. As the embarrassing noise fills the air, everyone smiles and claps, but I gasp and cover my face again.
If I hadn't died of embarrassment earlier, I'm about to now. Not only had the whole band just heard a completely thirsty moan, but so had Frank. He's part of the band, yes, but the fact that he just heard that incredibly degrading sound destroys me. I've really fucked up this time.
"Well then," Frank speaks loudly, above the random noise and talking, "Mikey. Truth or dare?"
Mikey stops talking to Ray, and then looks at Frank straight in the eye. "Truth."
I can tell that he's trying to move the game along as quickly as possible, and Frank seems oblivious to this, as he cranks out his question without hesitation. "Is it true that you like Ray? I mean, lots of fans think you do, and you spend an incredible amount of time together, whether it be practicing, writing, or..."
Mikey gets red in the face, and scratches his neck. He doesn't even have to say anything for us to know. "N-No, I don't. We're just really good friends!" he chokes out, but we all draw out a joined "ooo" in response. Even Ray chimes in.
This action receives a famous Mikey glare, and he smacks Ray angrily. We laugh and continue on with the game, Ray rubbing his cheek painfully. "I don't like him like that, you fuckers," Mikey insists, "Let's just keep going. Gee. Truth or dare?"
How long is this going to last?
"Dare."
Mikey nods thoughtfully and taps his chin, and his lips fold into a mischievous grin. "Oh, Gee. I dare you to take off your pants," he says, and I realize how tough this situation is. Either way, my pants will end up being taken off. And Mikey will just use this as an excuse to get me to do another dare. I glare at him angrily as Frank moves his legs off of mine, and I pull of my pants slowly. One reason for the slowness of my actions is because the pants are so fucking tight. Secondly, if I'm going to succumb to his requests, I may as well do them just how he'll imagine me doing them.
As expected, Mikey continues, "Either way, you're pants would've been off. I get to go again. This isn't truth or dare anymore. It's strip or dare. Gee, I dare you to go and make out with Frank in your–er–room for five minutes."
My chest tightens and the air suddenly seems poisonous. Make out? For five minutes? It's either that or take off my boxers, but then I'd be completely naked. And I won't let it get to that.
With a hesitant sigh, I pull myself up to a standing position, grab Frank's hand, pull him up with me, and lead him to the staircase, cheers and victorious whoops following us as we descend into the basement. Frank's breath quickens, as does my own. Maybe I can pretend that we're making out. Maybe I can pull that off.
But do I want to pretend?
"Are we gonna do it?" Frank asks once we reach the bottom of the steps, and I bite my lip and jerk my head slightly in a nod.
He whispers something under his breath, and the next thing I know, I'm being shoved against the wall roughly. "What the fuck, Frank?" I choke out hoarsely, my airway constricted by the pressure of Frank's arm against my chest. I'm also freezing cold; I always have on a full set of clothes, and I've never slept naked. Not that anyone needs to know of, at least...
Frank shuts me up with a soft, swift kiss, and I moan and flutter my eyes involuntarily at the contact. There's a warmth in my stomach that can only be described as a burning desire, and I pull my free hand up to Frank's hair, pulling him back in so that his lips crash into mine. Though the movements are awkward and needy, we fall into the same breathing pattern, moving with the kiss and breaking apart for a few seconds, only to reunite.
It gets to a point where I can't tell whose tongue is whose, and I don't even remember any tongues being involved or introduced. All thought has left my mind, though there's an unspoken, common goal amongst us: Make out like there's no such fucking thing as tomorrow.
"Mm," I whimper as Frank pulls away, his hand tracing the area where my ear meets my jawline. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for," he whispers, bringing his lips back to mine.
I'm not sure how long we're engaged in this, but we're suddenly broken apart by a startling voice. "Oh God, you actually did it. Fuck yeah!"
I glance over Frank's shoulder, and he spins around, where Mikey, Ray, and Bob are all standing at the foot of the steps, staring at us with wide, tainted eyes. "You're all little motherfuckers, and you deserve to rot in hell," I hiss, "No, you don't. I take that back. There's no such thing as unicorns. Your hair is ugly, and cupcakes are disgusting, and Spider-Man is the worst superhero." I say each of these, in turn looking at each of the guys on the steps. They all gasp, and there's a sort of desperation as Ray checks his hair, Bob crosses his arms, and Mikey brings his hands to his ears.
"La, la, la, la, la! I can't hear you!" Mikey calls, and then rushed back upstairs. In tow, he takes Bob and Ray, who are both involved in reconsidering their entire existences.
Frank turns back to me once they're gone, and asks, "Wanna keep going?"
"Fuck yeah."