Chapter Text
The summer sun hung lazily over the suburban street, its golden light stretching across sidewalks and neatly trimmed lawns like a blanket that made everything feel slower, heavier. The air hummed faintly with cicadas, and somewhere in the distance, a lawn mower droned on in a steady rhythm. It was the kind of afternoon that usually felt safe—predictable. The kind that begged for iced tea sweating in a glass and a stack of comic books forgotten on the porch.
For Mikey, though, calm never quite settled right.
He sat cross-legged on the front porch, the wood warm beneath him, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against his knee. His glasses kept slipping down the bridge of his nose, and every few seconds he nudged them back up, more out of nervous habit than necessity. His gaze stayed locked across the street, unblinking, like if he looked away for even a second, he’d miss something important.
Beside him, Gerard sprawled across the steps, completely at ease. One leg stretched out, the other bent, his phone casting a faint glow against his face despite the daylight. He looked like he belonged in this peaceful afternoon—like nothing could possibly bother him.
“Look, Mikey,” Gerard said, not even glancing up at first, his tone dripping with casual dismissal. He stretched his arms above his head, cracking his knuckles. “You’re overthinking again. It’s just some new neighbor moving in. Big deal.”
Mikey barely reacted. His attention was glued to the house.
The McAllister place.
Even thinking the name made something twist uneasily in his stomach. The house had been empty for as long as he could remember—windows dark, paint slightly peeling, the yard always just a little too overgrown. It wasn’t ruined or abandoned enough to be obviously creepy… but it wasn’t normal either. It was the kind of place people glanced at and then quickly looked away from.
And now it wasn’t empty.
“but something feels off..who in their right mind would buy that creepy old thing..” Mikey muttered, his voice quieter than he intended. He bit his lip, hard enough to ground himself. There was a faint pressure in his chest, like his instincts were trying to tell him something his brain couldn’t quite understand.
Gerard finally looked up, following Mikey’s stare before rolling his eyes with exaggerated patience. "Someone who wants somewhere to live, I mean that's what houses are built for in case you didn't know."
Mikey didn’t respond.
He couldn’t.
Because something *moved*.
Behind the curtains.
His breath caught. At first, he tried to convince himself it was normal—just someone unpacking, shifting boxes, walking past a window. But it didn’t look like that. It was too smooth. Too controlled. It didn’t jitter or stop or hesitate like a person would.
It glided.
A chill crept down his spine, subtle but undeniable.
Then—
The front door opened.
Mikey’s entire body tensed without him meaning to.
A boy stepped out onto the porch, framed by the dark interior behind him. He looked… normal. At least at first glance. Short, messy black hair stuck up in every direction like he hadn’t bothered with a comb. A silver nose ring caught the sunlight, flashing briefly as he shifted. His posture was relaxed—too relaxed—as he leaned against the doorframe like he already owned the entire street.
And then he smiled.
Not just a friendly smile. Not shy. Not polite.
Smug.
Confident in a way that immediately made Mikey’s pulse spike.
The boy pushed himself off the frame and started walking toward them.
Each step felt deliberate. Unhurried.
Mikey swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, his fingers curling slightly into his palms.
The boy stopped right in front of their porch.
Gerard, of course, reacted first—easygoing as always. He lifted a hand in a casual wave, a friendly grin already in place. “Hey! You must be the new neighbor!”
The boy’s gaze flicked to Gerard briefly—acknowledging him—but then it shifted.
And stayed.
On Mikey.
It wasn’t just a look.
It lingered.
It settled.
Mikey felt it like a physical thing, like something brushing too close to his skin. His stomach tightened, nerves sparking all at once, his brain scrambling to make sense of why this stranger looking at him felt so… intense.
“yup!” the boy replied, his voice smooth—almost musical—but edged with something teasing. “ the names Frank, And you must be… Mikey, right?”
Mikey’s world stopped.
His heart skipped—no, it stumbled—and for a second he genuinely forgot how to breathe.
How did he know that?
His thoughts tripped over themselves, panic and confusion mixing into something messy and overwhelming.
“no- I mean yes! I—I’m uh… yes, Mikey,” he stammered, the words tumbling out unevenly. His hands instinctively flew to his glasses, adjusting them even though they didn’t need adjusting.
Behind him, Gerard laughed—a light, amused sound—but it felt far away, muffled by the sudden rush of blood in Mikey’s ears.
Because Frank was still looking at him like that.
And then Mikey noticed it.
Frank’s smile.
Specifically..
His teeth.
The canines looked… a little too sharp. A little too pronounced.
“Ahh,” Frank said softly, stepping closer. Not enough to be obvious—but enough. Tilting his head slightly, like he was studying Mikey, like he’d found something interesting. “thats such a cute name, fitting for a cutie like you~"
Mikey’s face burned instantly.
Heat rushed up his neck, spreading across his cheeks so fast it made him dizzy. His mouth opened to respond—but nothing came out. Not even a squeak at first.
His brain just… short-circuited.
“Relax, Mikey,” Gerard chuckled, finally noticing the reaction, nudging him with his elbow. “It’s just a joke.”
But it didn’t feel like one.
Not with the way Frank was looking at him.
Not with the way he leaned in just slightly closer—
Close enough that Mikey caught the scent of him.
It was strange. Sweet, but sharp. Almost spicy… with something underneath it that he couldn’t place. Something faintly metallic that made his pulse jump again for reasons he didn’t understand.
“blushing that easily? You’re adorable,” Frank whispered, his voice dipping lower, softer—but somehow more intense.
Mikey’s breath hitched.
He could feel his heart pounding now—fast, uneven, loud enough he was sure both of them could hear it.
He glanced desperately at Gerard, hoping for grounding, for normalcy—but Gerard just looked entertained.
“Uh… thanks?” Mikey managed, the words coming out small and uncertain as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets to hide how tense they were.
Frank laughed.
The sound was light—almost pretty—but there was something underneath it that made Mikey’s skin prickle.
"your welcome, handsome."
Mikey swallowed hard.
Everything about this felt like too much.
Too close. Too fast. Too *ntense.
And yet—
Somewhere beneath the nerves, beneath the confusion…
There was something else.
A flicker of excitement.
A warmth that spread through his chest in a way that didn’t feel entirely unpleasant.
Gerard clapped his hands suddenly, breaking the moment. “Well, Frank, welcome to the neighborhood. If you need anything—we’re right across from you.”
Frank’s grin shifted again—subtle, but sharper. His eyes flicked to Gerard briefly… then slid right back to Mikey.
“Oh, I’ll take you guys up on that, Ill probably need a little... assistance from Mikey pretty soon~"
Mikey’s stomach flipped.
His legs actually felt weak, like they might give out if he stood up too fast.
He had no idea what Frank meant.
But the way he said it
The tone, the look
It made his chest flutter and his thoughts spiral all over again.
Gerard, completely oblivious, just nodded. “Cool. Anyway—”
"Me and Gerard are gonna head inside!" Mikey blurted suddenly, the words rushing out before he could second-guess them. His voice was higher than usual, a little breathless. "It's getting pretty hot out here, don't wanna get heatstroke, anyways see ya around!"
And before Frank could respond..
Mikey grabbed Gerard’s arm and pulled.
Hard.
Gerard stumbled slightly, clearly confused, but Mikey didn’t stop. He dragged him inside, the door shutting behind them with a little too much force.
Silence.
Cooler air wrapped around him, but it didn’t help.
Not really.
Mikey leaned back against the door for a second, his chest rising and falling quickly, his heart still racing like he’d just run a mile.
“What the hell was that about—?” Gerard started.
“I don’t know,” Mikey said quickly, a little too quickly.
And that was the problem.
He didn’t fucking know.
As the afternoon stretched on, the sunlight shifting slowly across his bedroom walls, Mikey couldn’t focus on anything. Not his comics, not his music..nothing.
Because his mind kept replaying it.
Frank’s voice.
Frank’s smile.
The way he said his name.
The way he looked at him.
Every detail looped over and over again, each time making his chest tighten and his stomach twist in that same confusing mix of nerves and something almost… thrilling.
Mikey pressed his fingers lightly to his lips, staring at nothing.
His heart picked up again just thinking about it.
And the worst part?
He didn’t hate it.
Not even a little.