Suddenly The World Seems Smaller

Mikey is kind of drunk. The bus tips and sways a bit. “When r’we gonna stop you guys?” he slurs. He closes his eyes. An exuberant Frank takes a running leap and lands on the rug at Mikey’s feet, colliding hard with his kneecaps. It hurts.

He opens his eyes and tries his best to glare. “Frank quit it. When r’we stoppin’ the bus? S’making me dizzy.” Frank lets out a high pitched giggle. “Dude, Mikey, we’re at the venue already.” Okay, Mikey is really drunk. “Huh” he says.

Frank giggles some more and crawls onto the couch next to him. Mikey closes his eyes again. Franks are probably like bees. If you ignore them they’ll go away. He curls tighter in on himself and determinedly pretends that Frank is a bee.

“Mikeyway!” Mikey doesn’t answer; he’s asleep. “Mikeyway.” Someone is really really close to him. And shouting. And has a hand on his thigh. Which means. “Hey Pete.” His voice sounds like leaves rasping along the sidewalk.He grimaces and blinks.

Pete is perched on the arm of the couch grinning hugely at him. His teeth are far too bright when they are this close and Mikey is this hungover. He gives Pete a half-hearted shove. “Get off. M’sleepy.” “You wound me!” Pete says. “Good” Mikey says.

He rolls his head back and surveys the ceiling. The bus is pretty new though so there aren’t any cool cracks to count. Pete picks up his hand and starts to play with his fingers, not quite interlocking them.

Mikey keeps his gaze fixed upwards. “Mikey, hey.” Pete maneuvers himself carefully over so that he’s straddling Mikey’s lap. Mikey stays very still.

He’s not sure what he wants right now. He’s kind of tired and dizzy and he and Pete have been getting pretty close the past couple weeks but never like-

Pete reaches out the hand that’s not holding Mikey’s and touches his face, just sort of brushes his fingers against his jaw and then pulls back again. “I’m uh. You’re awesome Mikeyway.” His voice is a lot more hesitant than Mikey’s ever heard it.

Mikey looks up at Pete, finally. Pete isn’t smiling anymore. He looks nervous. Mikey makes a quick decision and crowds closer to Pete, pulling him down and angling his head. Their mouths brush and it’s- okay. Pete’s lips are chapped and Mikey probably tastes like stale vodka and the way Pete is sitting on him isn’t actually very comfortable.

Before Pete can say or do anything, Mikey has shifted Pete on his lap and crushed their mouths back together and this time it’s good. Really good.

He licks at Pete’s lips and bites down a little and Pete makes a noise in the back of his throat and presses even closer, wrapping his arms around Mikey’s waist. Mikey has never been particularly handsy at times like these, preferring to just sprawl out like a rag doll and be kissed.

Pete pets at his neck a little with clammy fingers and Mikey tells himself he should fight the overwhelming urge to stick his tongue in Pete’s mouth. He does it anyway. Pete moves with Mikey, tasting him, feeling as much as he can. Mikey's chest seems to be full of light and heat. He breaks them apart to look at Pete. Pete is panting. “Oh” he says, dazedly, eyes shining. “Oh Mikeyway you’re the one for me.”

Mikey’s smile is quick and brilliant. He grabs the collar of Pete’s shirt and yanks him back down for more.
They must doze off for a while, probably overcome with post-awesome makeout exhaustion, Mikey thinks wisely, because suddenly the sun is sort of up and they’re blinking with tired eyes and beaming stupidly at each other.

“C’mere” Mikey says, and tugs Pete an inch or two closer and sticks his hands in Pete’s hoodie pockets. Pete quirks an eyebrow at him. “My hands are cold,” Mikey explains. Pete tries to pout.

“What if my hands are cold Mikeyway? Now they have nowhere to go.” “I can think of a few places,” Mikey says dryly. Pete laughs and pokes him in the side.

“Shut up,” Mikey says and kisses him once, twice, three times. Pete sticks out his tongue at him. Mikey kisses the tip of that too, then moves his head to rest of Pete's chest. 

He feels Pete shiver against him and then whisper so low that Mikey almost doesn’t catch the words. “You’re my summer, Mikeyway.”  Mikey feels a wave contentedness wash over him and he looks up at Pete in a smile. “I love you too.”


(no subject)

When the CEO of the website first approached them about it, the answer had been a solid "hell no". But the more that Frank thinks about it, the more he warms to the idea. It's not like they have any means of steady income. Their band doesn't seem to be taking off at this rate. Sure, the lyrics are good and they have what Frank likes to think is a new sound; but they've still only played about five shows. Opening for local bands in shady bars is fun, but it's not getting them anywhere shiny.

When he thinks about it, a few hour gig for such good money, well, it would be a wasted opportunity to turn it down. And it's not like it'd be with a stranger. It'd be with a friend. His best friend. His best and most attractive friend. Yeah, his hair is greasy and he'll only shower by like, force of law, but when it comes down to it, Gerard is a freaking pretty dude.

The day after the awkward confrontation with the site's owner, something Saporta, Frank is sitting at home eating Cap'n Crunch, watching bad daytime TV and being a general hermit. At least, it would look like that to someone lurking outside his window at least. He's really spending the time thinking about the offer. It's sleezy, it's creepy, it's downright weird, but still...he wouldn't mind. He'd nodded his head in aggressive agreement when Gerard gave his vehement response, but for a split second, Frank had considered it. Gerard however, hadn't even hesitated in his reply. And Frank knows that their only friends, he knows that it should have been the obvious response for both of them, but he can't help feeling a little undesirable.

After hours upon hours of general couch potato-ing, Frank can't take it anymore. He hits mute on the remote, and squirms a hand into the pocket of his jeans for his cell. Once free from the confines of denim, his is able to flip it open and hit one on speed dial. Gerard picks up on the second ring.

"Hey," comes a chipper voice down the line. Frank smiles in spite of his nerves for what he is about to do. "Hey Gee. Listen, I...I was thinking..." he pauses. "I was thinking..." "What is it Frankie?"Gerard interrupts, concern mingling with curiosity in his voice. Frank takes a deep breath and braces himself. "I think we should do it, that thing, uh, take him up on his offer, and-" but before Frank can begin to babble about how they could really use the money, Gerard cuts in with "Me too." "Huh?" He hears Gerard sigh and imagines him biting the nails of his left hand, cradling the phone to his ear with his right.

"I think we should do it too." Frank can practically feel him blushing through the phone and he can't keep a smile of relief and elation from spreading across his face. "Um, cool. I think I still have his card somewhere." Frank says, glancing across the room where the business card is balanced on a stack of CDs which, in turn, are precariously perched on the edge of his kitchen counter. "I'll call him 'kay?" "Cool," Gerard says, and hangs up.

2:50pm the next day finds a nervous Frank walking into the dull lobby of an office building to meet an even more nervous looking Gerard. He's leaning against the dingy beige walls alternating between biting his lower lip and gnawing on his nails. As Frank makes his way over, Gerard moves his hand away from his mouth and proffers a weak smile. "Hey." Frank says.

They stand awkwardly for a minute before Gerard mumbles, "Things won't get weird between us after this right?" His eyes are huge and worried. Before Frank can reply, however, they're interrupted by a boy that can't be a day over seventeen. He's wearing a red vest, pinstriped pants and a tangle of gold, purple and blue scarves around his neck that bring a welcome splash of colour to the room.

He nods toward them. "Mr. Iero and Mr. Way I presume?" Frank is a little taken aback. The boy sounds smooth, confident. He hadn't sounded that mature at seventeen. Hell, he doesn't sound that mature now.

"Uh, yeah" Frank says. "Great. Mr. Saporta will see you now." The boy turns, beckoning for them to follow. "I'm Ryan, by the way, Ryan Ross." "Aren't you a little young to be working, um, here?" Frank asks. Ryan laughs dryly. "I needed a job, didn't particularly want to flip burgers, and the guys we get through here are usually pretty hot, I am." He does a sarcastic little jazz hands movement and continues down the hall, Gerard and Frank in tow.

When they reach an elevator, ryan leads them right past it and through the door to their left. "Lift's broken," He says over his shoulder. "Our handyman Bob can't seem to find the motivation to fix it. Luckily it's only one flight." They exit the stairwell into a long hall filled with doors. Gerard smooshes up his face in horror at the bile coloured paisley wallpaper and pink carpeting.

"Did your decorator lose motivation too?" he asks. It's the first thing he's said that sounds remotely like himself all morning. Ryan snickers. "I know right? They should've let me redecorate. I'm in music school, but I came this close," he holds his thumb and forefinger an inch apart, "to becoming an interior designer."
Gerard's eyes lit up. "Music school? Wicked! What do you play?" Guitar, bass, piano, violin, cello, mandolin, keyboard, accordion, harmonica, tambourine and banjo." "Holy shit" Frank mouths to Gerard. "Let's adopt him!" Gerard mouths back. Before he voice this idea to Ryan, though, they come to a halt in front of a door. Ryan knocks twice and pauses. The door swings open. The dude looks even creepier than Frank remembers.

He's dressed in a bright purple smoking jacket, pajama pants and checked vans, with a stuffed toy snake draped around his neck. He's also about seven feet tall; Frank is near bellybutton level on him, seriously. The idea of such a versatile musician seems to have turned Gerard back into himself and he holds out his hand.

"Gerard Way. And this is Frank. Cool snake. Sweet coat, where'd you get it?" Mr. Saporta smiles down at him. "Gabe. Thanks. Ebay." He shakes Gerard's hand, then Frank's. Then, he turns his attention to Ryan. "Ross, if you go on a Starbucks run I'll tell you a secret." Ryan puts his hand on his hip and cocks his head to one side. "Secrets first, coffee later." Gabe rolls his eyes but seems to give in pretty quickly.

"Okay, A little birdie told me that the secretary's intern, you know, the Urie kid? Apparently he's got the hots for you. Plus, he plays guitar." Ryan's face goes from coolly expressionless to pink and flustered in record time. "Um, ah, well, thanks," he stammers. "Oh! Coffee right, coffee." He turns on his heel and sprints down the hall.

Gerard raises an eyebrow. "Office drama?" Gabe laughs. "Ross has been after the Urie kid since his tight little ass appeared in the lobby three weeks ago. I'd have them do a session for the sight, but Urie doesn't turn eighteen for a few more months." Frank smirks. "Yeah, probably not the kind of permission slip you'd want to bring home for your mom to sign." Gerard giggles. Gabe makes a sort of flourishing movement with his hand and steps into the room. "Come in, come in."

The room is a stark contrast to the hallway. It's walls are painted a tasteful shade of deep red and strategically placed lamps around the room give off a warm, sensual light. In the centre of the room is a huge, sumptuous-looking bed. "So," says Gabe, clapping his hands, reminding Frank of a kindergarten teacher trying to the get the attention of a room full of screaming kids. "My next slot is at 4:30, so you're good for time." Gabe rocks back and forth on his heels for a second before Gerard nervously asks, "Um, are you staying?"

Gabe curves his lips up and widens his eyes in a creepy leer. "Do you want me to stay?" He laughs. "Just kidding. The cameras are set up to get the bed from all angles, so I won't see the footage 'till editing." He flips a few switches on the wall that make the lights of the cameras glow red. "Have fun" Gabe says slyly. With a wink, he turns and walks out of the door, closing it behind him and leaving Frank and Gerard alone.

They stand awkwardly for a long minute. Then, almost solemnly, Frank sits on the edge of the bed and begins to take off his shoes. After a moment, Gerard mimics him, tossing shoes and socks aside, careful not to hit any cameras. Then, after another minute's hesitation, Gerard peels off his shirt. Frank knows that Gerard is still getting used to his new, trimmer form and isn't very good at hiding his pride.

He smiles and follows suit, pulling his faded Misfits tee over his head. He then leans back against the lush pillows and Gerard curls up beside him, digging into the pocket of his jeans for a pack of Marlboros and a lighter. Frank reaches for one, but Gerard pulls it out of Frank's reach, taunting him. Frank doesn't mind too much though; he's content to watch Gerard, who is inhaling with relish, holding it in, and then, suddenly, on top of Frank.

Gerard places his hands on the bed on either side of Frank's ribs, caging him in. He leans forward and exhales into Frank's face. Frank coughs, shooting Gerard a slightly confused glance. Gerard widens his eyes meaningfully in response and after a moment, Frank understands. Gerard inhales again, and this time, when he breathes out smoke, Frank is ready.

He opens his mouth to catch the curling grey tendrils. The burn in his lungs make him feel dirty and sexy. It gives him the confidence to pluck the cig from Gerard's fingers and take a drag himself before cupping Gerard's cheek with his free hand and feeding him a sickly sweet stream of smoke. They exchange this way for a while, Gerard grinding his hips into Frank's harder and harder as the paper singes and burns down.

When the flame has burnt down enough for Frank to fear for his fingers, he flicks it out the open window. When he looks back, Gerard has a little gleam in his eye, and before Frank can even wonder why, Gerard leans slowly forward and begins to lick Frank's mouth. Frank's breath catches a little and he feels his stomach dip. He lets Gerard's tongue work its course for another few seconds before he flicks out his own tongue to meet it.

He's getting unbelievably hot, and he bites down on Gerard's bottom lip causing Gerard to growl deep in his throat and oh, Frank has never been this turned on in his life. He can feel Gerard hard in his jeans, pressing against Frank's thigh as Frank's remaining clothes begin to feel constricting.

He pushes Gerard aside and wiggles out of his jeans and boxers. Gerard strips off as well and Frank bites back a laugh because, Gerard apparently goes commando sometimes, who knew? Gerard notices Frank's smirk and rolls his eyes clearly saying, "What? I didn't have any clean ones left!"

Frank giggles and lifts his head up to meet Gerard's lips. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee and something saccharine beneath it. Gerard pulls back and Frank leans in for another, but Gerard has other ideas. He kisses Frank's collarbone. Then, slowly, he travels downwards; placing light kisses along Frank's smooth inked chest and stomach. By the time Gerard reaches his hips, Frank could swear he's stopped breathing altogether. "Gee?" Frank whispers.

Gerard raises his head and looks at Frank with huge, focused eye. Frank has almost never seen him so serious. "Shh, Frankie." He whispers back and lowers his head to meet Frank's crotch. Suddenly, the door slams open. Frank yelps and Gerard lifts his head and whips around to see the source of the noise.

It's Ryan Ross. Of-freaking-course. He's balancing a tray of takeaway coffee cups in one hand and is gawping and Gerard and Frank in horror. "Shit! Sorry ! Wrong door! I was distracted I-" Ryan turns to someone outside the door who is giggling helplessly.

"Brendon shut up! It's not funny!" He turns back to Frank and Gerard. "Sorry, oh God, I'm so sorry." He grips the tray of coffee with both hands and bolts from the room as suddenly as he entered.

Frank and Gerard exchange a long look, which Gerard breaks with a giggle. The sound is infectious, and soon they're both laughing mercilessly, bent double, tears streaming down their cheeks as they realize just how ridiculous this whole day has been.

They are both laughing so hard that they don't notice when the door slams open a second time. "Dudes, what the hell?" comes Gabes voice from the doorway. They look up. Gabe looks a little pissed. "This is so not gonna get anyone off.' Frank can't help it. He begins to giggle again.

Gabe rolls his eyes. "Well, I'll have to pencil you in for a session next week if you wanna get paid. Cool?" Gerard raises his eyebrows. "Uh, no dude. It's a good deal and all, but not really worth it. Gabe shrugs. "Whatever. Now seriously, out, my next is probably waiting downstairs." Gerard gets up off the bed and starts towards the door and Frank follows.

They find their way easily enough back to the stairs they came up before and Frank reaches for the door to the stairwell, which opens suddenly as a guy steps out into the hall. Gerard looks comically horrified. "Mikey?!" He squawks. "Oh. Hey Gee." Mikey says, sounding nonchalant.

Frank starts laughing as Gee asks, "What the hell are you ding here?" Mikey raises an eyebrow. "The same thing as you, I'm guessing. The money's good, huh." "But, but-" Gerard stammers. I thought you said you got that money from selling DVDs!" Mikey smirks. "I didn't say what kind of DVDs."

"With who?! Gerard splutters. "Pete'll be here in a few minutes. He's stuck in traffic." Before GErard can respond, Mikey does a little two-fingered salute. "Later Gee. Bye Frank." He turns, saunters down the hall and disappears a moment later into the studio. gErard groans dramatically banging his head against the wall. "We never speak of this again. Deal?" Frank shakes his head and begins to descend the stairs.

When they exit the stairwell into the lobby, Frank nearly walks smack into Ryan. 'Oh hey," Ryan says, "sorry again about walking in on you guys. I was a little...uh preoccupied." He grins mischievously. Before Frank can ask "With what?" another boy sprints into the lobby from a door marked 'Men's Room'.

He runs straight up behind Ryan and grabs him around the waist. "Oomph!" Ryan exclaims, but his eyes flicker in delight when he realizes who it is. "Oh, uh, this is Brendon." The boy that steps out from behind Ryan is certainly easy on the eyes.

He has dark brown hair, large chocolate coloured eyes and plump pink lips that look as though they've been injected with collagen. "Hi!" he cries enthusiastically. Gerard looks amused. "I'm Gerard. Nice to meet you." "I'm Frank," says Frank, "and likewise." "Ryan and I are gonna start a band!" Brendon babbles. "It's gonna be freaking awesome! I thought it'd be cool to do like, covers of classic Disney songs you know? But Ryan writes this amazing poetry- he showed me some of it- and we're gonna try and put music to it!"

Frank can see out of the corner of his eye that Gerard is biting his lip, trying not to giggle. Frank is holding back laughter; he'd always thought Gee was the most talkative person in the world, and someone finally proving this theory wrong is totally hilarious.

Ryan seems to sense that Brendon needs to stop talking now, or he won't ever, and he pulls him close for a kiss. It's sweet, and Frank feels a pang of something he can't place. "It was great meeting you guys" Frank says. Ryan mumbles something incomprehensible against Brendon's mouth and he takes it as "ditto."

Gerard and frank turn to make their way outside. Once in the parking lot, though, Frank comes to a halt. "Gee." He says. "Yeah, Frankie?" "Umm..." Frank isn't sure of which words he wants to come out of his mouth. "I, you, you said that um, coming back wasn't worth it. Did you, did you mean like, umm, like, did you mean it? Did you mean it, because of me?"

He braces himself for the answer, and suddenly, Gerard is kissing him. He's kissing him with a ferocity that he certainly didn't show back in the studio. Before it was sexy and now it's...more real somehow. And Gerard is walking forward, mouth still pressed to Frank's, guiding him towards his car. He breaks apart from Frank to unlock the door, then maneuvers himself and Frank into the back seat.

With surprising gruffness, Gerard presses frank up against the window, and slips his tongue into Frank's mouth. Frank's breathing is becoming steadily ragged as Gerard's kissing becomes furious and forceful. "Gee." Frank moans around Gerard's tongue. "Please. I- this-, I need you so much."

And Gerard is nodding and pulling away from Frank's lips and simultaneously undoing the clasp of Frank's belt. It takes some doing, in the cramped space of the car, but eventually Frank's pants and boxers are off and Gerard is there, right there, making beautiful movements with his tongue against Frank's skin.

Frank arches, and moans as his dick finds its way into the depths of Gerard's mouth. "Gee" he breathes, "I, oh God, you , this." He can't seem to find away to express what he's feeling in words. Gerard is swirling his tongue and Frank feels like sparks are beneath his skin, he's going to explode he's- "Oh God Gerard, I'm-"

Gerard gets the message and removes his mouth in record time, and Frank makes a sound he didn't know he cold as he comes. He feels spent. He lays still for a moment, catching his breath while Gerard digs around in the glove compartment for a rag.

After wiping the mess from the seats, he curls up against Frank and murmurs, "If you can't tell by now, I kind of love you." Frank sits frozen for a moment, letting the words sink in, his body filling with a sort of tingly warmth. Then he laughs, kisses Gerard softly, and says, "I've always kind of loved you."


The First Anatomy Awards! *gleeful leap*

We all love our bandom boys and their various yummy-scrumptious bits and pieces of anatomy. They deserve awards don't you think? I do. 

Let us start from the top and work our way down *insert innuendo here* 

Most Fabulous Hair goes to Mr. William Beckett, for obvious reasons. I mean, c'mon. It swishes, it swooshes and it is always attractive. ALWAYS. 

I love this picture. I mean that amber wave of hair! That added to his facial expression makes
this picture render me pretty much speechless.

And now for another hair related award. The Hair Most Likely to Take Over the World goes to *drumroll*
Ray Toro. No duh. 

*imagines its inner schemes of world domination*

Now for the eyes. This is a bit of a tough one. I don't know why, but all the bandom boys have RIDICULOUS eyes. Like, seriously gorgeous. But as you will find by the end of this spam, I have a weakness for Brendon Urie. He wins the coveted Eyes That Makes Fangirls Melt award. 

Um. Holy crap. And also nyuuhghhhhnnnng. 

The next face-related award is a no-brainer. Makeup. Do I even have to tell you?

Look at it and tell me with a straight face that the boy isn't an artist. This pretty  much
sums up Ryan in a single picture. This will reduce me to tears soon, so let's move on to...

...LIPS. Oh yes. And I didn't necessarily want to repeat people, but once again, no-brainer.

LIPS. UNGHHHHGGG. I would profess my desire to suck on them if the idea wasn't so
slightly tainted by the knowledge that in this particular picture they would taste like

Moving on down the male form, (skipping the neck as they are not attractive in the least) we are
brought to chest. After much debate (e.g seeing one stunning picture of Pete Wentz sans shirt) I made
a decision. 

*momentarily forgets to breath* 

And you all knew Bilvy would be back in the mix before long. Hips I Would Quite Like to Get My Hands On (Or, you know...lick) goes to William Becektt. *holds up an applause sign* 

I will choose this time to mention that I have somewhat of a hip bone fetish. *is reduced to a puddle on the swivel chair* 

Now for feet. I will say, that I do not find man legs or feet attractive. I will however, award Coolest Feet to Jon Walker because of his unceasing exposure of them. 

I realize that his feet are not so prominent in this picture, but it's pretty amusing anyway. 

Moveing swiftly on, I will give the award for Sexiest Forearms to one Mikey Freakin' Way. They are something to be gazed at. Exhibit A: 

Yum. Made yummier by the glittery guitar. I'm a sucker for gay accessories. 

Once again breaking my no repeats rule. The Nimble Fingers award is for Ryan Ross. 

I really don't care that this picture is tiny. The fantasmic length of those fingers makes up for it. We all know where those have been. Up Brendon's I mean...on his guitar...XD

Now, I could go into several subcategories involving personal style, but I would be here all night, and I have a date with my fatigue reliever (bed). 

Hope you liked this. It's my first picspam, and actually, probably my first livejournal post (as I am a lurker and only use this accounts to leave comments of adoration on fanfictions) 
If anyone seems to like this, maybe I'll become a regular updater ^_^