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Mikey’s feet pressed dents into the carpet as he made his way down the stairs of the basement. His older brother’s room was his sanctuary. Thin, pale fingers gingerly twisted around the doorknob, opening it with ease and slipping inside the dark room. Gerard was bent over in his chair, pencil in hand and sketchbook full. His record player was turned up in the corner, Siouxsie and The Banshees, Mikey observed. He wasn’t as big a fan of them as Gerard was. Gerard felt eyes on his back and turned in his chair, squinting in the dark at the figure near his door. “Mikey?” He questioned, fixing his lamp behind him without looking. Mikey sunk down onto the bed before humming a greeting to his brother. Gerard swivelled his chair around and got up, flopping on the bed beside Mikey.
“Hi,” the younger whispered, glasses mashed into the blanket. “Hey,” Gerard whispered back, the low tone of their voices in the dark comforting him. The sound of Carcass’s melody ringing through the quiet startled Mikey, but he didn’t yet flinch. Gerard’s fingers brushed over Mikey’s spine, covered in the thin fabric of a worn band tee. Mikey practically purred, back arching into his hand.
“Always feels so good when you touch me,” Mikey breathed, jean-clad legs pulling under him and supporting his back arch. Gerard’s face flushed, eyes flitting away.
“It feels even better for me,” he cooed, nervous, gaze running back to settle on the sweet sight of his younger brother arching into his hand. Mikey yawned before remembering why he had come down in the first place, his hands extending toward Gerard’s waist. Gerard noticed the boy’s not-very-slick attempt to grope him, not paying it any more mind before his eyes shut in surrender. He could see the light. Mikey jumped on him like a rabbit, tackling the elder back onto the bed, knees trapping Gerard’s thighs. Gerard laughed, a high mousy sound, thrusting his body upward. A flash of pure fear on Mikey’s face. Gerard slammed Mikey into the mattress, body heavy on top of him.
“Gerard!” Mikey complained, whining like a spoiled child. He tried shoving him up, failing miserably which encouraged Gerard to crack up and roll back off of him.
“You have to stop at one point if you hate being pinned, Mikes,” Gerard reasoned, sitting up and brushing his hair out of his face. Mikey impersonated him under his breath and sat up beside his brother. “Want breakfast?” Oh. That’s right, Mikey glances at the clock.
“Yeah, yeah that’d be good.” Mikey muttered, Gerard smiling at him surrendering as well.
“Cereal?”
“I don’t know what else.”
“Cereal, then.” Gerard grabbed Mikey’s hand, pulling him up the stairs and stopping at the top behind the closed door which led to the hallway of the front of the house. He pulled the thinner boy closer, his withering warmth seeking Mikey’s burning fire. Their lips met in a silent epiphany, the argument that always goes on between them buried deep inside the meaning and feeling of the kiss. Mikey had cried the first time they kissed, the breeze of their quiet communication so much more intense. Parting was always the hardest. Gerard pulled away, cheeks flushed, chin wet. The door opened before Mikey could say anything to him, and the internal wind vanished, still warm in his gut. He could do cereal.