The Ultimate Bet

"Hey bro," Gerard greeted Mikey with an accomplished smile on his face.

"Who did you kill now?" His lanky brother asked in a monotone voice, still immersed in the new comic he'd just bought that morning.

Gerard pouted. "Do you always think so ill of me when I smile?"

"...Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it means you probably did something that you shouldn't have." Mikey answered without looking up.

Gerard shrugged, knowing his little brother was right. If he wasn't happy, he was usually bitter and depressed over what didn't go his way.

"I wanted Bob to beat up the nerd for me and I would come in all dramatically and save him, and he'd lay down on his back and..."

Mikey stared at his brother in repulsion. "Please tell me you did not just do that."

"No, no. I didn't want to hurt the kid. Just scare him, well, Bob doesn't scare. He usually hurts. So he had one of his minions do it or something. But hey! It still worked out," Gerard winked. "I'm his new hero."

"You're atrocious. Your soul dies a little more every time you do evil deeds."

Gerard looked at his brother in irritation. "Mikey, speak English please."

The younger brother put down his comic, crossing his arms and fixed his brother with a scowl. "You've seriously decided to go through this, huh? If you have any ounce of humanity left in you, leave the damn nerd alone."

Gerard took the seat next to his brother, putting his feet on the table. "You're behaving as if I'm going to rape him or something. Coercion never hurt anyone."

"And when you finally get what you want, you'll just leave? Then what? You'll leave him a slobbering mess. I don't know, Gerard. You don't mess with kids like that. Their psyche is different. He might not be able to handle it and go all psychotic on us. Haven't you been watching the news? School shoot-outs are becoming the new norm."

"So now Frank Iero has weapons of mass destruction and can blow us all up?" Gerard asked incredulously.

"No, but unlike the others, he's this really innocent, stupid, naive kid who doesn't even fucking like horror films! Gerard, horror films! This isn't normal! You don't fuck abnormal people like that!"

"Mikey, there is no such thing as normal, it's just something the government made up to have an excuse to bomb other countries." Gerard explained.

"Fine. If he ends up on our front porch with some weird brainiac experiment that's going to suck out our brains, I'll make sure you answer the door."

"Before it comes to that, make sure you're a good little boy and set an extra plate for dinner. We're having a guest," Gerard grinned.

"What? You invited him for dinner?" Mikey gasped, shaking his head and shuddering at the very idea. "You're not going to fuck him in the living room, are you? We eat there."

"No! There is no way I'm going to get him tonight. You're right, he's different. So I gotta change my tactics up a bit. Make him think it's all just an innocent friendship with stupid flowers and shy smiles. My gaydar never fails."

Mikey snorted. "I personally think the kid is asexual. But look at it this way: if you turn him gay, there'll be more opportunities for him in the long run. Or else he'll end up like the 40-Year-Old-Virgin."

Gerard beamed at his younger brother, thumping him on the back. "See? I'm doing this kid a major favor. He'll be thanking me later."

"By the way, how did you get Bob Bryar to help you?" Mikey had been meaning to ask since yesterday, still confused as to why Bob Bryar would even consider something Gerard wanted, much less actually doing it. Bob Bryar didn't do favors.

Gerard smirked. "Oh, that? Let's just say I have some evidence of what happened last year at prom when nobody was looking." He gave his kid brother a sly look, wiggling his brows for emphasis.

Mikey turned green, his stomach recoiling. "I'm not sure if I should admire you for sticking around long enough to gather evidence....Or just be repulsed that my own brother is now officially a voyeur. I bet you won't even tell me who it was right?"

"Your bet is fairly accurate." Gerard grinned.

"Bitch."

"No, you're younger. You are the bitch in this relationship by default."

"Whatever. You're the gay fag artist. You are so the bitch."

**

It was no surprise to either Way brother that their mother, Donna Way, absolutely adored Frank. She had yet to leave the poor kid alone, complimenting him on his mannerisms and his academic history. She gazed at her sons with contempt.

"It's nice to know there are still young men who are gentlemen," Donna cooed, beaming at the short boy and Frank smiled back nervously. Mikey made a face at his brother from across the kitchen, Gerard agreed.

"Mom, listen--"

"I mean, he's going to go places, Gerard. Have you even looked into colleges?" Donna accused her oldest. Mikey snickered, unable to help the smile tugging the corner of his lips.

"Erm...huh...no...But--!"

"You told me you were going to take the SATs months ago! Don't you need to take the SATs to even apply?"

"Yes," Frank piped in.

Mikey whistled, imagining Gerard wasn't too fond of Frank Iero right about now.

"Mom! Can you please stop harassing my friend? Can't you get your own friends to harass?" Gerard snapped.

"Well, for once someone you bring over isn't a future convict or a dimwit and I was just enjoying the change," Donna answered stiffly, standing up and sending Frank a quick smile. "I hope you like lasagna, Frank."

"He does," Mikey quipped, "he's Italian, Mom. What Italian doesn't like lasagna? It's Italian-suicide if you don't like pasta."

"You're Italian too?" Donna practically squealed. "We're a quarter Italians ourselves."

"Yeah, and we tan really fucking easily," Gerard said dispassionately, "now that we've established our heritage, I'm going to take Frank to my room now."

The way he said it so casually just struck a nerve with the younger Way, but he didn't comment. Usually their mother wouldn't allow it but she would never suspect her son's ulterior motives just by looking at Frank Iero's clothes--that hadn't been in style since the early 80s.

"Dinner will be ready promptly at seven," Mrs. Way reminded her son.

Gerard happily pulled the younger boy with him, smiling at his brother on the way out and guiding Frank to the basement, where his room was located.

"I didn't know Mikey was your brother," Frank commented, holding onto the railing as he walked down the steps. Gerard wondered why the kid was so afraid of just fucking walking down the stairs like a normal person instead of hanging onto the railing like some fifty-year-old-man.

"Yeah, and if Mikey was your brother, you wouldn't be shouting it from the rooftops either," Gerard shrugged, thankful when Frank finally made it to the bottom in one piece.

"I-I…I wish I had a sibling," Frank said softly, looking around the room with interest. He noticed the various posters: Batman; Misfits; even a couple of paintings adorning the walls.

"You're one of the lucky ones," Gerard said, watching Frank walk up to his favorite painting. He didn't know what he'd been thinking when he did it, but he loved the colors in it. "You never to have share your stuff and you get all the attention."

"B-but you always have someone to play w-with," Frank stammered, feeling the close proximity between him and the older teen.

"I didn't need a sibling to play the games I do," Gerard whispered, trapping the boy right where he wanted him. Frank turned around, only to find his nose against Gerard's chest. He stumbled out the way in shock, nearing tripping but he quickly found his balance.

"S-sorry. I didn't see you," Frank said as he looked around in the dimly lit room and realized that they were completely alone for the first time. All he could think about was his claustrophobia: normally it wasn't a problem for him--thanks to all the time he'd found himself jammed inside a locker on a daily basis--but the impending feeling of entrapment didn't settle well with him.

"I was just gonna take down the canvas so you could get a better look," Gerard replied in a bemused tone, frowning slightly as he handed the kid the painting, hoping he'd sit down.

"Wow, this is really good," Frank remarked after he finally sat down. He looked up and gave the older boy a small smile. "How long have you been painting?"

Gerard formed a face of concentration, looking up at the ceiling. "Roughly six years? My grandmother taught me. She tried to teach Mikey, but he doesn't have one ounce of talent in his bony little body."

Frank gave a small laugh as his leg started to shake and Gerard could feel it moving beside him. Usually all he had to do was impress them with his artwork; they always fell for it. One second they're admiring his painting, and the next: he'd feed them compliments about how marvelous it would be if they would pose for him. But he knew he had to be cautious and slow with Frank--he looked like a scared puppy that would run any second if he came on too strong.

"Your mom works late on Tuesdays?" he asked, trying to recall the conversation they had been having earlier before they parted ways but he had been too focused on the boy's eyes. He had never noticed their unique color until he was up close, convincing him to come over so that they could discuss the compromise in more detail. He had originally thought it'd be better in a more intimate setting without the fear of being overheard but apparently he had only made the kid more nervous.

"Huh?" Frank said, "Oh yeah. She d-does."

Gerard scooted closer, unable to help himself, and put a hand on Frank's knee. Feeling the younger boy tense up, he shot him a quick apologetic glance.

"You know," Gerard began, licking his lower lip as he tried to figure out how he should approach the subject. It didn't help that Frank was looking at him with frightful eyes, as if his next move would somehow kill him. Fuck, this damn kid was making him nervous. It was hard to be confident when he’d never really dealt with someone like Frank before. "Have you ever considered contacts? You have nice eyes."

Fuck, that was the cheesiest thing to say, he nipped at himself.

"I don't think contacts are sanitary. They go in your eyes and stay there and meanwhile, you have all this bacteria gathering--" Frank said, dismissing the older boy's suggestion. His mother had suggested the same thing months ago, but the horror of sticking something in his eyes had steered him away.

Gerard rolled his eyes, seeing what his little brother had meant about Frank Iero's germ-phobia. He reached over and without warning, plucked the spectacles off of the boy's face. Frank's head snapped forward to look at him in confusion. Gerard smirked.

"Listen Frank, I'm going to be honest with you," he breathed, scooting closer and switching to Plan B. Obviously compliments weren't going to work on the boy like it did with most. "The only reason why I'm talking to you is because I'm attracted to you. When I'm attracted to people, I like to get to know them."

"I...I don't u-understand," Frank said slowly, squinting to see the older teen's expression, trying to figure out if this was some sort of joke.

Gerard smiled, holding the glasses in his hands and waving them in front of his face. "I'm not trying to freak you out. All I'm asking for, really, is just for you to hang out with me. Amuse me for awhile."

"You mean, as in--as in--" Frank looked appalled, "as in...that way?"

Gerard couldn't help laughing a little. "Yes. That way. Why? You're homophobic?"

"No!" Frank said quickly, looking at him in horror. "But--I...I'm sorry. But I...can't. I'm not...I'm not g-gay!"

"How do you know?" he replied, giving him a meaningful expression. "Maybe you're not. But a little experimentation never hurt. You want to be a scientist, right? You should know all about experiments."

"I do! B-but..but...I'm not s-sure. I've never...d-done this sort of thing, not even with a g-girl," Frank stammered nervously as he looked up at him shyly, looking very much like the blushing virgin he was.

"I just wanted to help you out and I figured this way was better: if people see you hanging out with me, they'll get the point to leave you alone…but you don't have to feel obligated or anything. I'm sorry that I wasted your time," Gerard said smoothly, letting his disappointment show as he moved to stand up.

"No!" Frank said sharply, his hand reaching for his sleeve before Gerard could stand up completely. The younger boy gulped, his uncovered eyes blinking and his lower lip trembling. "I'll d-do whatever you want me to. I'll...h-hang out with you. I mean, n-nothing too drastic, r-right?"

"I wouldn't push you into something you didn't want to do," Gerard exhaled heavily, feeling his heart flutter. He had the kid right where he wanted him. "You don't seem to want to, though, and I couldn't live with myself if I felt like I forced anything on you."

"No, I d-do!" Frank yelped, moving to stand in front of him, blocking his exit. "I said I'll do it. What do I have to do to p-prove it?"

Gerard eyed him wearily, sizing him up. He crossed his arms, looking around in disinterest. Frank stood in front of him, flustered and shaking with apprehension, looking even more scared and lost without his glasses. Gerard almost felt guilty what he asked for next.

Almost.

He took a few steps to sit down on his bed. "Kiss me."

Frank looked shocked by the proposal and Gerard was sure he was going to run up the stairs, but he was pleasantly surprised to see Frank walk over to sit beside him on the mattress, facing him. Gerard uncrossed his arms, raising a brow, as if in invitation.

"A-all right," Frank agreed softly. He moved closer, closing the gap between them and angling his head sideways, his breathing heavy and moist against Gerard's lips before the older boy felt Frank’s lips land against his. For a moment, Frank didn't do anything; he just pulled back a little, his breathing shaky. Gerard knew he had no idea how to kiss, and scooted forward, cupping his jaw and drawing him back in for a proper kiss. He took control, letting his lips linger and glide across the boy's, his tongue running along the seam of Frank's tightly closed lips. Gerard was glad to feel the younger teen open his mouth a little, allowing him entrance and he took advantage of it--

Frank let out a gasp, pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Still trying to control his rapid heartbeat, he realized that the older teen had tried to put his tongue in his mouth.

"What's wrong?"

"I...I...I just wasn't e-expecting that," Frank confessed, inwardly appalled, wondering why someone would do such a gross thing but more confused why it had actually felt rather...nice.

"Gerard!" the basement door opened with a bang, followed by the sounds of someone running down the stairs. Mikey halted when he came face-to-face with his brother and Frank sitting dangerously close with Frank looking disappointed and Gerard looking triumphant, confirming his suspicions of what he had interrupted. Gerard handed back Frank's glasses, who was still in a daze. Gerard couldn't help but be amused as the flustered boy tried put them on, giving away his feelings that he'd liked it more than he let on.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Mom's been screaming that dinner's ready for five minutes," Mikey grumbled, interrupting the nonverbal exchange between his brother and Frank. "And you know how Mom gets. Hurry up." He stated as more of a command than a request. He walked up the stairs; looking behind his shoulder to see if they were following. He waited for Gerard at the top of the stairs, putting a hand on his sleeve and pulling him back.

"You're a fucking monster. You totally manipulated him, didn't you?" Mikey looked livid.

"No, I didn't give him the complete truth," Gerard said sarcastically, smiling. "I'm surprised how eager he was to bite. I didn't think he would. But I guess that shows how much you thought you knew."

"I know that whatever you said down there was a crapload of bullshit, you probably skewed it as if you’re doing him a favor," Mikey said angrily. "I don't understand what you see in that kid. There are plenty of hotter fucks you could have. Why him?"

Gerard just chuckled. "Why not?"