If Gerard knew anything, it was that he most certainly wasn't doing the washing up again, and perhaps even this was a better alternative.

And this was making conversation with Mikey about something they vowed that they'd never mention, because these were the stupid feelings that plagued their hearts and minds and meant everything but nothing at all, and regardless of their significance or otherwise, where just absolutely impossible to ignore.

Because whatever this was with Frank, because it was something, because it had lasted long than a week, it had nothing to do with Bert McCracken, and still Gerard was interested, and that was absolutely out of the ordinary for him. Sure, it didn't sound like anything much, but Gerard was pretty damn special and perhaps not in the best way.

And of course, it wasn't like Mikey was particularly happy to admit the way he felt about Pete either, and they were both very much in the same boat here, but of course, always just as reluctant to admit it, or even to admit to anything at all.

The two were sat at the kitchen table, meeting one another's gaze in a pathetic attempt to ignore the pile of washing up they'd been tasked with sorting out, because they were going to be realistic here and admit that the likelihood of the washing up actually getting done was just about as likely as either brother getting himself together enough to sort out the feud between his head and his heart.

But dancing in thought around the notion was most definitely an easy alternative with which to waste away time totally not thinking any homosexual thoughts at all, because, of course, no homo was the motto that the Way brothers lived by everyday of their lives.

The two jumped a little as the screen of Gerard's cellphone, laid on the table in front of him, lit up, displaying a text message, and of course not just a text message.

It was the first text message in weeks now, and from one single glance at the contact name, Mikey already knew what this was.

And Gerard did too, even if he was just a little more reluctant to admit it.

The contact name in question, being, of course, 'Bert'.

The message was illuminated on the screen for a painful thirty seconds, before the screen faded to black, and Mikey turned to face his brother with a raise of his eyebrows. "Don't you fucking dare fuck up your life again, you hear me?"

"M-Mikey..." Gerard stumbled out, perhaps even just a little taken aback at the fact that Mikey had even spoken up, having anticipated a prolonged silence, lasting perhaps even as long as it would take Mrs Way to come home and shout at them about the washing up still remaining untouched, but perhaps Mikey was just a little saner than Gerard thought he was.

"Don't reply to that douchebag, and don't you fucking dare get back with him." Mikey snapped, gesturing to Gerard's phone as he spoke, and of course meaning Bert, and not the phone itself, because that would be pretty damn ridiculous indeed.

"I'm not- I..." Gerard let out a sigh, grabbing his phone from where it lay, and turned the screen on, letting his eyes glance over the message, before putting it back down again, because he reckoned Mikey might fucking smash it if he didn't.

'I miss you. I'm sorry. I love you.'

And more kisses than Gerard deserved, but just enough to sink his heart right back down into the depths of the motherfucking ocean, because he was getting okay again, but now Bert was back, and now everything was back, and his head was fucking on fire.

"I'd rather you fucked Frank than ever talked to him again." And Gerard didn't doubt that Mikey meant that one little bit.

"I'm not going to reply." Gerard added, blushing a little, not quite wanting to meet Mikey's gaze.

"Good."

"Do you mean that?" He asked a few moments later.

"Of course I do - why the fuck would I say it if I didn't mean it, Gerard?" Mikey sighed out, shaking his head a little, catching sight of the washing up on the side as he pulled his gaze back to face Gerard's, and wincing a little as he did so, because there was most definitely more of it than when he'd last looked; it was like there was sentient bacterial life growing and multiplying in the corner of his kitchen, and with how long it had been there now, Mikey didn't exactly doubt it all that much.

"So, what would you say if I did fuck Frank?" Gerard asked, stretching his legs out under the table and putting them up on the chair opposite, gaining a little raise of eyebrow from Mikey, who was just taking a silent minute to comprehend what Gerard had just fucking said.

"You're thinking of fucking Frank?" Mikey asked, almost praying that he hadn't heard Gerard right, because dear god, he hadn't really wanted this at all, and dear god, Gerard had to be joking here, hadn't he?

"Well no, me and Frank are thinking of fucking, and yes that's different, because it's a mutual thing and I'm not some asshole who keeps praying on your friends and fucking them; Frank likes me too." Gerard let out a sigh, his cheeks burning up a little at the thought of Frank, and dear god he was going soft or something, and he didn't particularly want to entertain the possibility, but if Mikey was going to give him the green light when it came to Frank Iero, he would most certainly put himself through this.

"So if I say, yeah, I don't mind that you and Frank fuck, then you promise me you won't get back with Bert again, like block him or something, because if it really is a matter of Bert or Frank, then I'm going to say Frank without a moment's thought, because hey, Frank is my best friend, but Frank isn't a manipulative douchebag-"

"Neither's Bert..." Gerard began, cutting himself halfway through the sentence, paused in thought for a moment.

"Fucking look me in the eyes, Gerard, and say that again, because you don't believe it nearly as much as you want me to." Mikey shook his head, glancing again at Gerard, and then the fucking washing up, and then back at Gerard.

"Fine, he's not part of my life anymore." Gerard shrugged it off, grabbing his phone and deleting the messages from Bert, then even holding it up to Mikey to prove his point. "Anyway, how are things with you and Pete?"

"He's not- it's not like that!" Mikey stammered out, his cheeks burning up into a fucking horrific shade of crimson.

"Mikey-"

"It's not-"

"Hey, if you do the washing up, I promise I won't mention it again." Gerard suggested, leaning back in his chair and smirking, as Mikey got to his feet without a fucking moment of thought.

"Deal."

-

This was Lindsey's idea, as things often were, and in turn, it was Lindsey's fault that she was sat in the corner of some shitty half party, half drug deal, watching as the most beautiful girl in the world flirted with millions of fuckboys, who quite frankly couldn't even dream of being worth her time.

And in most cases, Lindsey knew that too, but Lindsey loved leading boys on, and Jamia knew that the absolute worst person to fall in love with was the one who played with hearts like it was a sport, a hobby, even, but still Jamia did.

Quite honestly, Lindsey was easily the worst person for Jamia to fall for; she was straight, she had serious commitment issues, she was chasing after Mikey Way as of this week, she was her best and only friend, she probably wouldn't react well to homosexuality when it was directed at her, she was blind as fuck when it came to feelings, and she was the most annoying girl in the world.

But still, in Jamia's jaded eyes, she was the Aphrodite of not even just this town, but this universe, and Jamia was fucking stricken, in fact, more like hit in the face with a baseball bat.

And she had a million better things to do with a Saturday afternoon than watch a girl from the corner of a room that faintly smelled of weed; a room full of people she didn't know and didn't care for, except the one - Lindsey Ballato.

She was the pivotal point of this room, the world, the universe, Jamia's existence, anything, and this was getting seriously pathetic, and close to destroy Jamia from the inside out, but she let it, like she let Lindsey do what she liked, because the girl was beautiful, and Jamia was a sucker, a sucker for beautiful girls.

And of course, getting out of the closet, and over Lindsey, and on with her life was just daunting when she could sit her comfortably for another fifteen minutes at least as Lindsey flirted with a boy that neither of the two girls knew the name of.

At least Jamia had reassurance in the fact that she wasn't going to sleep with that guy or anyone at this party, because she was absolutely fucking deadset on Mikey way, and Jamia didn't know whether to be jealous or feel sorry for him.

She'd already tried texting Frank to waste away the minutes, and perhaps for just a little moral booster, but with the fact that he hadn't even seen the messages, Jamia could easily assume that he was either dead or with Gerard, and well, in her mind, the two were practically the same thing.

But, hey, at the very least, Frank was having some luck in his romantic endeavours, and Jamia had to envious of that, because here she was, after months of pining over some stupidly beautiful, fucking stupid girl, she was still sat in the corner of the room watching from afar.

Because not only was she not Lindsey's girlfriend, she wasn't Lindsey's best friend, either.

Sure, Lindsey was her best friend, but it wasn't a mutual thing, as Jamia knew like she knew that she was fucked, that Lindsey would give that title to a poor, unsuspecting, sort of overwhelmed Frank Iero.

And sure, Jamia loved Frank, who was most certainly a nicer friend than Lindsey would ever be, but she couldn't quite see what was all that special about him. But then again, Lindsey was doing that weird straight girl thing where they seem to think gay guys are like accessories or something, but of course, that couldn't possibly apply to lesbians, because fuck, Jamia would let Lindsey objectify her or whatever, fuck, she didn't care, she just wanted-

Something.

Perhaps even just a way out of this mess, but she didn't get quite as long to have an existential crisis as she would have liked, before Lindsey made her way back across the room, grinning at her as she held a bag of cocaine in her hand.

That was Lindsey's 'stupid idea' grin, and Jamia knew it well, but even after the millionth time, she was still absolutely in no way prepared for what Lindsey could possibly be about to suggest with a bag of cocaine held so casually in her hand.

"I have some coke." She gestured towards the bag with her free hand as she approached Jamia, taking a seat beside her on the weird kind of decaying sofa that Jamia had claimed in the corner of the room.

"I can see that." Jamia kept her response kind of empty and devoid of expression, but Lindsey didn't seem to pick up on it, let alone care, but Jamia was used to this in a fucked up way, she really was.

"So I suggest we get high as fuck and then maybe I'll have the guts to just spring it on Mikey-"

"This is about Mikey Way?" Jamia exclaimed, her heart sinking to her motherfucking knees- in fact, falling straight, well gay, out of her chest and onto the fall, where Lindsey's feet could fucking trample on it. "Why is everything about Mikey Way?"

"I want to fuck him. It's good to have some ambitions in life, you know?" Lindsey gave Jamia a friendly, painfully heterosexual shove, leaving Jamia to groan, and not in the way that she wanted Lindsey to be making her groan.

"He's just a fuckboy - there's nothing special about Mikey Way." Jamia sighed out, repeating those words, or some variation of them for what felt like the millionth time, but of course, still Lindsey couldn't even fathom considering the notion of listening, because it was just Jamia, after all - what could she know?

"He's kind of mysterious and cute, don't you think?" Jamia shook her head. "I don't know, he just seems interesting, he's not like everyone else, you know, because like fucking boys, I've done that a million times before, whereas, Mikey seems just a little harder and far more interesting to get, you know?"

And Jamia was millimetres away from suggesting that Lindsey Ballato tried fucking girls, before the guy Lindsey had been talking to a few minutes prior made his way across the room, standing before Lindsey with that sleazy fuckboy grin that Jamia had seen far too many times for her liking.

"We should get away, you know, you and me." He began, talking to Lindsey like he hadn't even noticed Jamia's presence, and well, Jamia wouldn't be all that surprised if she hadn't.

"I'm with my friend, sorry, fuck off." She gestured to Jamia as some sort of half-hearted form of excuse, and the guy let his gaze fall upon Jamia for a moment, before turning back to Lindsey with an even sleazier grin.

"She can join in too, if you want-"

But he didn't quite get to finish that sentence; the impact of Lindsey's fist against his face finishing it for him.

And Jamia was perhaps even more in love with Lindsey Ballato than she had been before.

"Let's go, come on." Lindsey grabbed Jamia's hand, not knowing just what it did to the poor girl, as the two dashed out of the house.

"That was a good punch, don't you think?" Lindsey grinned as they ran down the front path and onto the road.

"It was amazing, you're amazing."

And Lindsey smiled, bag of coke in one hand, and Jamia's in the other, because they'd ground to a halt now, and Lindsey still hadn't let go.

-

Mikey didn't need telling twice when Gerard had suggested that he might want to give him the house to himself for the afternoon, because with their conversation earlier that day still fresh in Mikey's mind, he had very reasonable suspicions as to just what could possibly going on in his absence, and well, he really just did not want to know.

Gerard had sent two texts, received one reply and six emojis, before he took a shower, even washing his hair and pulling on a shirt so clean that it had to be Mikey's, and as he faced himself in the mirror, he found that he looked an awful lot like he was getting ready to go out on a date, and god, fucking hell no, this wasn't what this was.

Gerard ran a hand back through his head, letting his fringe fall further across his face, and picking at a spot on his face, making it a little more prominent to ensure that he looked just a little less like he was trying too hard.

Because Frank was just coming over and it most certainly wasn't anything more than a hyped up suggestion of sex, and Gerard had just been seeing an awful lot of his right hand lately, and was perhaps just a little too over excited about nothing, because come on, Frank was young and awkward, how 'amazing' was this really going to be?

And the guy was like three feet tall; it wasn't like his dick was particularly going to be anything worth marvelling at, and yet, Gerard was trying, and he didn't know why, because Frank was fucking messed up, head over heels for him, and well, Gerard could probably get away with not even bothering to put clothes on to answer the door, and Frank would still be begging for everything and anything Gerard suggested.

But Gerard wasn't like that, Gerard was trying, and the more he looked at his reflection in the mirror, the more he began to believe Mikey, and the more he began to believe that there was perhaps just a little more to this than he would ever like to have admitted.

But he didn't have awfully long to ponder upon the flaws of his head and his heart, before the ring of the doorbell resonated throughout the house, and Gerard was making his way down the stairs, almost two at a time, and stopping at the front door, just breathing in and out for a moment or two, putting himself back together, before finally placing his hand upon the door and opening it for Frank.

"Hey." The younger boy was blushing, and he had indeed made just a little more of an effort than he would like to have admitted, which succeeded in making Gerard feel that just a little bit better about himself.

"Hey." It also succeeded in ensuring that Gerard stood there like a dummy, just staring at Frank, and those tight jeans and that fucking shirt on him, and dear god, those jeans were so tight that he reckoned he was going to waste his lifetime away just by staring at Frank Iero's ass.

"Are you going to invite me in or what?" Frank asked, noticing Gerard's staring and beginning to smirk, raising his eyebrows a little as he did so. "Or just stare at me forever."

"I'm just thinking about fucking you, Iero, don't you fucking worry." Gerard played it off casually, because yeah, that was casual for Gerard Way. "But come on inside." He stepped aside, gesturing for Frank to make his way into the living room, as Gerard locked the door behind them.

The nineteen year old, however, hadn't particularly expected that Frank would be stood waiting and watching for Gerard to turn back around, before pinning him back against the wall and connecting their lips.

Gerard smirked into the kiss, not having exactly anticipated it, but he most certainly had no intentions of objecting to this at all.

He let his hand fall down Frank's back, settling onto his ass, releasing a little nervous kind of moan from the younger boy as he squeezed a little; Gerard used this moment of shock to his advantage, moving them so that Frank was the one pinned back against the wall this time and with Gerard smirking down at him.

"Fucking beautiful, fucking hot, you're fucking amazing." Gerard whispered, breath hot against Frank's neck, before connecting slightly parted lips to pale, tender skin of Frank's collarbone, and releasing a trail of embarrassing little breathy moans as he did so.

"Yeah..." Frank moaned, throwing his head back against the wall as Gerard continued to apply more pressure to his neck, only encouraged by every fucking stupid little nervous sound the boy had emitted.

But eventually things had to move on, Gerard pulling his lips away as his mind lit up with the prospect of another better idea, because ideas, they were Gerard Way's speciality, after all.

"We're here for real now, aren't we, Frankie?" He began, watching as the sixteen nodded, nerves practically radiating off of him. "So what am I going to do to you like this? Because there's a lot I'd love to, but I couldn't possibly decide, so, I'll leave that to you, huh?"

Frank blushed, grabbing Gerard by his shirt at the shoulder, "I-I-... f-fuck me... please..." Frank trailed his gaze back up to meet Gerard's once more, the older boy moments away from fucking losing it, and by that, laughing at Frank.

"Please?" Gerard shook his head in disbelief. "Did mummy tell you to always remember your manners when you're about to be fucked?"

And Gerard thought he had this one, fucking thought he had Frank all figured out, but then with a moment or two of reflecting over his life and existence so far, Frank pushed his dignity aside for obscenity and the way Gerard looked when he wanted him.

"No, but daddy did."

And that was the story of how Gerard Way died.

-

hey lmao things got a bit gay here today didnt they? anyway if u think im cool u should vote and comment because yes i am very cool indeed fight me. i love you guys like for real if you were fruit you'd be strawberries because they're cute and everyone likes them :) :) :) :)