‹ Prequel: First Glance
Sequel: Promise ›
Fireworks.
1/1.
The first time they kissed, the moon was massive and surrounded by fireworks. It was July 1st and Mikey's small house was crammed to its maximum capacity with drunken men, all riled up on homemade moonshine. His father had been one of them, tilting towards the floor with every step and grabbing at his nervously smiling mother. It had made Mikey feel physically sick and so, he had turned heel and left in a rain of insults from every man in the vicinity.
"C'mon you fag, drink!"
Instead of being a man, Mikey was sitting in the hayloft of his barn, staring out at the fireworks that tinted the moon red and blue and green. His knees were drawn up to his chest and he rested his head on them, sighing heavily and closing his eyes.
When he opened them, Frank was sitting beside him, staring out the window and holding a clay jug in his hands. The smell of moonshine poured from it, but not from him. His eyes were too clear for him to be drunk. When he noticed that Mikey was looking at him, he briefly smiled before returning his gaze to the window. His skin turned purple for a fraction of a second before he was plunged back into darkness.
Mikey liked Frank. He was a hard worker, with the calluses and tan to prove it, but he wasn't an asshole, like Mikey's father. Even though Frank would drink with the rest of the men, he wouldn't make crude jokes or grope women; he'd stay quiet, smiling with his mouth but not with his eyes. Frank had a wonderful smile, one that was made for breaking hearts.
It had certainly broken Mikey's.
"Why are you here?" Frank asked, eyes sparkling yellow. Mikey shrugged and continued to stare out the window, the colors reflecting off his wire rimmed glasses.
"Why are you out here?" Frank chuckled, bringing the jug to his lips and grimacing.
"Because if I heard someone call you a faggot one more time, I was going to knock them on their ass." It was Mikey's turn to chuckle, shaking his head and reaching for the jug of moonshine. It burned all the way down his throat but it provided a valid excuse for the tears glistening in his eyes.
"You don't need to defend me," he said, passing the jug back. Frank only barely caught it; he was too busy staring at Mikey's eyes. Even in the dark, he could see the film of tears covering them.
"Why?" Mikey tilted his head back to laugh and all Frank could do was stare at his long, smooth neck. He swallowed heavily and put his fingers back in his lap. He hadn't even noticed that they had raised on their own accord, aiming for that untouched skin.
"'Cause that's what I am!" Mikey howled with laughter, even though the tears had started to fall. His body started to shake and his laughs began to waver, interrupted by sobs. Frank didn't bother trying to control himself any longer; he moved over and wrapped his arm around Mikey's narrow shoulders, drawing him close. Mikey didn't resist; his body seemed to just fall apart into a pile of mush as he collapsed onto Frank.
"Its okay," Frank whispered, pulling Mikey into a full fledged hug. "Its okay."
"Why?" Frank tilted Mikey's head up with his fingers and felt something deep inside of him snap. He wanted to go back inside the house and shoot every single person that had dared to call the beautiful creature in front of him a fag. He wanted to rip off the heads of every person in the world who said that being in love with another man was wrong. He wanted to climb up to Heaven and kill God himself.
He wanted to kiss Mikey.
"Cause I'm one too."
Mikey forgot all about the fireworks as soon as Frank's lips touched his. His face was still covered in tears but they seemed to evaporate right off his flushed cheeks. He forgot about closing his eyes; all he could do was stare at Frank's eyes, beautiful even when they were closed. It was only when Frank looked up at him expectantly that Mikey realized he had just been sitting there with his mouth open, not responding to Frank's kiss at all.
"Is something wrong?" Frank asked, bringing a hand up and laying it on Mikey's neck. Mikey forced himself to swallow through the massive lump in his throat, smiling broadly.
"Do that again."
This time, Mikey kisses back.
"C'mon you fag, drink!"
Instead of being a man, Mikey was sitting in the hayloft of his barn, staring out at the fireworks that tinted the moon red and blue and green. His knees were drawn up to his chest and he rested his head on them, sighing heavily and closing his eyes.
When he opened them, Frank was sitting beside him, staring out the window and holding a clay jug in his hands. The smell of moonshine poured from it, but not from him. His eyes were too clear for him to be drunk. When he noticed that Mikey was looking at him, he briefly smiled before returning his gaze to the window. His skin turned purple for a fraction of a second before he was plunged back into darkness.
Mikey liked Frank. He was a hard worker, with the calluses and tan to prove it, but he wasn't an asshole, like Mikey's father. Even though Frank would drink with the rest of the men, he wouldn't make crude jokes or grope women; he'd stay quiet, smiling with his mouth but not with his eyes. Frank had a wonderful smile, one that was made for breaking hearts.
It had certainly broken Mikey's.
"Why are you here?" Frank asked, eyes sparkling yellow. Mikey shrugged and continued to stare out the window, the colors reflecting off his wire rimmed glasses.
"Why are you out here?" Frank chuckled, bringing the jug to his lips and grimacing.
"Because if I heard someone call you a faggot one more time, I was going to knock them on their ass." It was Mikey's turn to chuckle, shaking his head and reaching for the jug of moonshine. It burned all the way down his throat but it provided a valid excuse for the tears glistening in his eyes.
"You don't need to defend me," he said, passing the jug back. Frank only barely caught it; he was too busy staring at Mikey's eyes. Even in the dark, he could see the film of tears covering them.
"Why?" Mikey tilted his head back to laugh and all Frank could do was stare at his long, smooth neck. He swallowed heavily and put his fingers back in his lap. He hadn't even noticed that they had raised on their own accord, aiming for that untouched skin.
"'Cause that's what I am!" Mikey howled with laughter, even though the tears had started to fall. His body started to shake and his laughs began to waver, interrupted by sobs. Frank didn't bother trying to control himself any longer; he moved over and wrapped his arm around Mikey's narrow shoulders, drawing him close. Mikey didn't resist; his body seemed to just fall apart into a pile of mush as he collapsed onto Frank.
"Its okay," Frank whispered, pulling Mikey into a full fledged hug. "Its okay."
"Why?" Frank tilted Mikey's head up with his fingers and felt something deep inside of him snap. He wanted to go back inside the house and shoot every single person that had dared to call the beautiful creature in front of him a fag. He wanted to rip off the heads of every person in the world who said that being in love with another man was wrong. He wanted to climb up to Heaven and kill God himself.
He wanted to kiss Mikey.
"Cause I'm one too."
Mikey forgot all about the fireworks as soon as Frank's lips touched his. His face was still covered in tears but they seemed to evaporate right off his flushed cheeks. He forgot about closing his eyes; all he could do was stare at Frank's eyes, beautiful even when they were closed. It was only when Frank looked up at him expectantly that Mikey realized he had just been sitting there with his mouth open, not responding to Frank's kiss at all.
"Is something wrong?" Frank asked, bringing a hand up and laying it on Mikey's neck. Mikey forced himself to swallow through the massive lump in his throat, smiling broadly.
"Do that again."
This time, Mikey kisses back.
♠ ♠ ♠
We all need fluff once in awhile, don't we?xo.