The Ultimate Bet

The last person he expected to come out of the stall was him.

“Smoking, uh, I-I didn’t know I was telling you off---"

Frank squirmed, backing up apologetically.

“Do you normally tell people off without knowing who they are?” Bob inquired, still inhaling the cigarette in his mouth. The smoke filled the dingy bathroom where, thankfully, no alarm sprinklers existed.

Frank bowed his head. “I’m s-sorry—"

“Well, you should be,” Bob replied gruffly, flicking the spent cigarette in the sink, turning on the tap to make sure it was completely extinguished. He turned to the boy still cowering in the corner.

“Well? Are you going to stare at me or leave? A man’s gotta take a piss in privacy you know,” Bob growled, waiting for Iero to leave.

“Y-yeah, s-sorry,” Frank breathed, relieved he would get out unscathed and rammed into the bathroom door in his hurry to leave.

Bob rolled his eyes, watching the younger boy pick himself up before departing the room.

Finally.

**

Gerard had snuck off after his literature class for a smoke, luckily managing to avoid any teachers on his way to the isolated spot he always reserved for his smoking sessions. He’d been minding his own business when Bob came walking towards him, asking if he had a light. Naturally, he’d fumbled to get the lighter to work with his nerves paralyzing him. Now his chance to relax and enjoy his cigarette was ruined.

“I’ve heard the news,” Bob said, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them.

It took him awhile to process exactly what Bryar was talking about before he answered. “I didn’t plan it.”

“Yeah, because most people plan who they date or not,” Bob replied coolly and Gerard, unsure if that was meant to sound sarcastic, shrugged it off.

“What I don't get,” Bob continued, his tone amused, “Everybody is pissed off you date now and it’s Frank Iero of all people. He’s a cute kid and all, I’ll admit. But he’s jailbait.”

“I wasn’t aware you cared, Bob, I’m touched," he said, already uncomfortable with what his plans were, and Bob Bryar's sudden interest in his new dating life was even more unsettling.

“I don’t. But do you know Frank caught me smoking and practically gave me a medically detailed lecture on how ‘smoking kills’ and I should quit?” Bob asked him, and Gerard shook his head. “That kid is something else, Way. I just can’t decide if it’s bad or good, or just plain irritating."

“The majority vote is the third,” he replied, stumping out his cigarette. “I’m surprised he had the guts.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I smoke. Shit, I don’t think he knows yet.” He had a feeling Frank’s lecture would be much worse than his own mother’s. Drowning himself in cologne could only go so far.

“I suggest breaking up with him or getting the nicotine patch. Good luck either way,” Bob answered, shooting him a look Gerard thought maybe could pass for friendly. “I’ll catch you later, Way.”

He left, and Gerard wondered if he had dreamt the last fifteen minutes. The bell rang, signaling his lunch. He maneuvered his way through the overcrowded halls, walking into the loud lunchroom, to find his brother at his usual spot.

“I just had the weirdest conversation with Bob just now,” he said, taking the unoccupied seat across from Mikey.

Mikey eyed him in concern before asking, "What happened?"

“Frank told off Bob for smoking and still walks this earth,” Gerard answered in awe.

Mikey shot him an incredulous look. “Frank did what?"

“Supposedly Frank caught him smoking and lectured Bob and Bob didn’t kill him. Amazing, right?”

“Completely mind-blowing, actually,” Mikey corrected. “Nobody else in the entire world could get away with such a thing besides his own mother. He can tell off boys bigger than his size without getting beat up, undo girl's dresses, and make my polygamous, promiscuous brother into an honest man. Clearly, I've underestimated him.”

“I would’ve loved to have witnessed it: this short nerdy kid telling a six foot monster off for smoking? Would’ve made my day--Wait, what? Promiscuous is used for girls.”

“You looked like one,” Mikey shrugged. "I'm not the one who dressed up in drag last Halloween and got more numbers than any girl could get in a lifetime. Stop changing the subject and admit it: You like Frank Iero."

“Why d’you assume that?” Gerard asked, sick of this same question coming from his brother the past few weeks.

“Because you’re still dating him and you've told the entire school. And the first thing you tell me, it usually deals with Frank,” Mikey told him with a wide grin, “And I know for a fact you haven’t even fucked him.”

“I’m at his house everyday. You don’t know what we do.”

“Yeah and I have a feeling it has to do with orgasming over comics.”

“You’re just jealous. You oughta ask Frank if you can come over, too. We’ll make a nerdgasm orgy of it.”

“Stop inventing words and speak English,” Mikey replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Secondly, ew. You’re my fucking brother and threesome or not, it would still be incest and illegal in all fifty states.”

“…You know you just indirectly admitted you’d fuck Frank."

Mikey shook his head. “What? No. I’m not a fag like you.”

“Hey, you’re the one to say threesome. I didn’t implant that idea in your head,” Gerard reminded him, smiling in triumphant.

Mikey shot him an annoyed look, leaning closer. “Would it bother you if I wanted to fuck your little nerd boyfriend? Maybe I will, you know, because I think he’ll let me.”

“Mikey,” Gerard said, unsure exactly how to respond. Normally, he wouldn’t care because he never cared about anyone, but to hear his brother—

“Actually it’d be pretty easy. He likes me, and sure, you’re his boyfriend. But I still think I could get him, if I wanted. I bet he’d make the cutest noises,” Mikey mused to himself, “Which one do you think he is? Screamer or moaner? I bet he’d moan like a little whore…”

“Oh my God, Mikey, shut the fuck up,” he said fiercely, no humor in his tone now. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Okay, okay! Gee, I was just fantasizing,” Mikey joked, finally noticing his brother’s angered expression. “Looks like I was right. You do care, because you look like you’re about to stab me with your plastic spork.”

“Maybe I will,” Gerard breathed, loosening his grip on the utensil.

“Will what?” As if by magic, Frank appeared behind Gerard, looking at both boys expectantly. Mikey coughed loudly, gaining Frank’s attention before Gerard could give an explanation.

“Hey Frank, why don’t you sit next to me?” Mikey asked the younger teen, his tone oddly sweet and friendly. Gerard frowned, knowing his brother had something under his sleeve for asking such a bold question.

“All right,” Frank said, quickly moving to sit beside the other boy, facing Gerard from across the table. “I like it better this way, I can see you.”

“Aw, that’s really romantic there,” Mikey commented, turning to examine the younger boy. He smiled at Frank, leaning closer, “You've got a smudge on your glasses, here, let me.”

Without warning or hesitation, he reached over and plunked the glasses off Frank’s face and began to wipe them with his sleeve. Frank blinked at him, smiling nervously.

“Oh, thanks, I didn’t realize--"

“Don’t mention it,” Mikey replied dismissively, grinning and placing them back on, his fingers tucking in the loose hair behind the boy’s ears, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. Frank squirmed in his seat and stuttered out another ‘thank you’.

Gerard couldn’t believe his brother’s nerve to blatantly flirt with his boyfriend in front of him.

“I’ve just decided,” he said with an icy tone, interrupting their little eye-flirting (and he didn’t even want to think about where Mikey’s left hand was and why Frank suddenly jumped in his chair) as he stood up, heading over to the other side of the table and ripped Frank out of his chair, as far away from his brother as possible. “Cafeteria food sucks and I’m taking you off campus for lunch, my treat.”

Frank stumbled, his hands twisting in the older boy’s jacket for support as Gerard practically half-carried him, “B-but, I gotta get my stuff first--!”

He helped Frank with his things and ushered him out of the crowded room, but not without sending his brother an icy glare before the lunch-room doors closed behind them.

“Can we go to Mr. Gatti's? I love it there.”

“We can go wherever the fuck you want,” Gerard said hotly, his fury with his brother still evident in his tone, and he reached for Frank’s hand possessively, “As long as everybody knows you’re my boyfriend.”

“I like when you say it like that.”

Gerard stopped walking, almost crashing into Frank. He knew right then and there, he was hundred percent fucked. If his actions in the cafeteria were any indication, he didn’t need his meddling brother to make him realize it anymore than he already had.

“What?”

He frowned, torn between two answers. He settled for the less tempting answer. “Frank, uh, I need to tell you something.”

“Oh, I…” Frank noticed his expression and cringed, “This is bad, isn’t it?”

“Uh, not necessarily?” Gerard answered sheepishly. “Um, never mind. It’s bad.”

Frank eyed him wearily, comprehension dawning on his features. “It’s okay. I already know.”

Gerard felt his breath catch in his throat. Were they even talking about the same thing? No, of course not, because Frank wouldn’t still be looking at him so fondly.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure if you…” Frank faltered and Gerard knew he was nervous right away from his fidgeting, “Mikey told me. A couple of days of ago. I’m sorry, he said he wasn’t supposed to tell me, and uh, I’m not mad. Not really.”

“…You’re not?” Gerard questioned skeptically. “Are we even on the same--? — Is this—?”

“I...uh…I kinda figured because you’re like…popular. And I’m not,” Frank finished, laughing weakly. “So I was a bit suspicious already? You know, I thought this was just some…joke? Okay, yeah. I was sure. But you’re still with me and so far, I’ve realized you’re not as bad as everybody said. And Mikey, he uh, told me in so many words about you and about what you’ve done.”

“Frank—"

“And I know you care about me because you haven’t done anything that I didn’t want,” Frank said softly, reaching up to scratch behind his ear, another nervous habit Gerard had picked up on. “Right? So I’m not mad, because I know you’re better than that.”

Gerard stared at him, looking into Frank’s eyes, seeing the adoration but knowing that Frank still didn’t know what he was really trying to say.
Whatever the fuck Mikey had told him, he knew it had nothing to do with the bet. Mikey wouldn’t rat him out, as much as he hoped to believe his brother would do such a thing, Mikey wouldn’t. He wished he could doubt it, but he knew Mikey would never sell him out like that.

“No,” Gerard shook his head, hating himself for his next choice of words, “No. You should be mad but I’m glad you know now and you’ve…seen past my old ways. Thank you, Frank, for being the first to believe in me.”

Frank hugged him tightly after his speech and Gerard returned it, feeling awkward and broke the embrace first.

“C’mon, let’s go eat."

“I just realized it’s illegal to go off campus for lunch, though.”

“It's time for you to learn about the greatest teenage skill of all: rebelling.”

**

“So, what’s the deal with your place?” Gerard asked, watching Frank reach for his fifth slice. Damn, where was this kid packing all this pizza?

They were able to find an isolated corner in the crowded room surrounded with exasperated parents running after their little brats, swamped with parent's reprimands in the air and children's cries. It reminded Gerard the exact reason why he was thankful he was gay and never had to worry about the possibility of children. These parents looked miserable and ready to shoot themselves with one of their kid's water guns.

Frank paused in mid-bite, surprised by his question. “W-what do you mean?”

Gerard diverted the conversation another angle. “I don’t mean anything bad, because like I said, I could care less what your place looks like. But seriously, isn’t there some way to get the landlord to do his fucking job? You need like, uh, a new door? A new furnace? And if he’s still charging full price, that’s bullshit.”

Frank pushed the fringe out of his eyes, diverting his eyes away. “I…I…we, it’s really all we got.”

“What?”

“My mom, she…” Frank blushed, looking down at the table with sudden fascination, “When my dad left, he…left a lot of debt. My mom’s just now barely getting out of it, and because of the bad credit, the deposit for anything better is always way out of what my mom makes. That place is the only one that would take us.”

Gerard suddenly wished he didn’t care enough to ask, but it had been bugging him. Now that he knew the reasoning, he had no clue what to say. What do you say to something like that? Mikey would know what to say, his brother was always better at comforting people than him. He just had an horrible way of making it worse when he opened his mouth.

Shit.

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot for even asking,” he growled, more to himself than Frank, noting the younger teen's downcast expression. "...Damn. I didn’t know, I'm sorry for bringing it up.”

“Nah, it’s all right,” Frank replied softly, “It sounds terrible but I’m glad he’s gone. I’ll take the debt and shitty apartment over ever seeing him again.”

“It's not horrible if it's how you feel." He cringed how fake and textbook-perfect the words sounded to his own ears. “You can’t change the way you feel."

“Yeah,” Frank agreed, his tone still sad.

"I think all families are fucked up nowadays," Gerard said, "it's pretty universal. We're not the Brady Bunch."

"Well, yeah, because being perfect is boring," Frank said, "but your family is cool though. At least you have a sibling..."

"Oh hell no," he disagreed, "you're one of the lucky ones. Having a sibling to bug the hell out of you and rat you out your whole life? Not cool. In fact, I used to wish he'd get kidnapped. I’d purposely let go of his hand in stores and let him wander off--"

"That's horrible!" Frank gasped. “Thousands of children get kidnapped a year because they’re not looked after—"

"—Yes, I know. I learned my lesson when I couldn't find him. Scariest moment of my life. I think I was crying when my mom finally found me and almost killed me on the spot when I told her I lost Mikey. Later I found out Mikey had been hiding on purpose the entire time. He had planned it, the little fucker."

Frank laughed. “Your brother is good at comebacks.”

“Only because he doesn’t look like the type.” Gerard picked up his drink, using it as a distraction. “The gist of this pointless conversation was just to indulge you of the many miseries of a thing called sibling rivalry.”

Frank cracked a smile. “I like your brother.”

Gerard coughed. “I…”

“You both talk shit about each other and it’s sort of funny.”

“Sort of?”

“Very funny,” Frank said, picking up his half-eaten pizza and chewing on it thoughtfully.

Gerard snickered, noticing the leftover sauce on the boy’s chin. This kid needed a bib, he laughed to himself.

“Er--Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“You got…" he pointed to his chin and Frank stumbled in realization, grabbing a napkin to wipe it off but missed it completely.

With a quick decision, never minding their young audience, Gerard leaned over, bringing a hand up to cup the back of Frank’s head to yank him closer to connect their lips. Gerard shyly darted his tongue out, moving his lips down to Frank’s chin, licking up the sauce, all while Frank trembled in shock. Gerard could feel Frank’s breath get shaky and excited as he continued to kiss him and just when Frank began to return the fervent kiss —he pulled away.

“Let’s go play some games,” he suggested, smiling in satisfaction at Frank’s flustered, shocked appearance. He could feel the parents' disapproving eyes digging into the back of his head after his little stunt.

“G-games?”

“You dragged me all the way to this place and you don’t want to play games?” he asked doubtfully. He already felt like a pedophile when he walked to the front counter to pay, remembering the attendant shooting him a suspicious look. And he was in a room filled with kids and a boy who could still pass for an eighth grader. He just hoped there was no cop nearby to card him. Oh hell, he was already going to jail enough as it was if things went his way. If he got carded, it’d be fate.

“Y-yeah, we gotta play bumper cars.”

“Fuck yeah,” Gerard agreed, following him to the game room. “I’m totally going to bump into you the whole time. I rule at that game.”

“Bring it.”

“I forgot to ask: Did you really tell Bryar off for smoking?”

“Uh...yeah. Does he want to kill me now?”

“No, no. But you got a thousand cool points for it.”

Gerard tugged him to the photo booth instead, finding it a more discreet environment to make out. It was terribly cramped, similar to the horrible car make-out incident, only this time Frank had improved a bit more on his finesse and didn’t straight-out attack him. No, this time it was slow and overly affectionate, and Gerard couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed leisurely kissing.

**

“Care to explain what the fuck you were doing at the lunch table this afternoon?” Gerard asked the moment he walked in the kitchen to find his brother eating Cheetos and drinking a soda.

“Huh?” Mikey said in mid-swig, turning to face him, “What?”

“‘You got a smudge on your glasses’ bit, you fucking asshole!” he continued to rage in aggravation, wanting to kick something, preferably his kid brother who he hadn’t wanted to kick since he was seven and playing kickball, when he’d mistaken Mikey for the kickball. “And I don’t even want to know where the fuck your hand disappeared to.”

“Oh, you’re still mad about that?” Mikey smirked, taking another sip of his soda, and Gerard noticed the other five empty cans on the table, which only helped fueled his rant more. “Dude, that was over four hours ago."

“Fuck you and your fucking skinny-ass self. Fuck your motherfucking metabolism and fucking always being so fucking skinny and fucking eating more than a pig, you fucking—“

“Wow. Eight in one sentence. Shit, that’s impressive,” Mikey interrupted, holding up eight fingers. “Wow. I don’t think you’ve been this pissed in a long time. I think the last was when I stole your Star Wars toy collection.”

“I swear, I still don’t have Yoda,” he growled, “And stop changing the fucking subject, you skinny fuck!”

“I guess now isn’t the best time to ask for a favor, huh?” Mikey asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes as his brother flailed his arms wildly in the air. “You’ve got more mood-swings than a pregnant woman, Ger.”

“I’m wishing I had kicked mom repeatedly in the stomach the moment I heard I was going to have a sibling. Fuck if I know why the fuck I was so excited,” Gerard mumbled, heading off to the living room, knowing Mikey followed, much to his displeasure. He needed television; he needed mind-numbing television to calm down. He needed horror flicks, and he really wanted some fucking comic books. But as fate would have it, Frank had every collection known to mankind that a boy would kill for, or sell his kid brother for. No, bad idea to even think selling his brother to Frank. Scratch that.

“Life was just grand without you,” he droned on, turning on the television and finding nothing but stupid reality shows about finding love. Go to a bar, folks, he thought, it’s the same result. This world was dominated by reality shows. Why couldn’t they have a nerd reality show? He’d kill to see a house with a bunch of nerds and that cute adorable smile and stuttered speech—

“What are you doing for Halloween?”

“Burying your dead body at the local cemetery, ” he snapped acidly, still channel surfing. It was official: Cable sucked and he had no clue why they still had it. It was crap. “And I haven’t gotten laid in four weeks! That’s a fucking month of un-wanted celibacy!”

“Katie’s party is on Halloween,” Mikey told him, ignoring his last sentence and handing him a piece of paper with the street address and Gerard instantly discarded it, “She invited us. She said you can even bring Frank, if you wanted.”

“Are you serious? Could you seriously see Frank Iero at a fucking high school party?” Gerard asked in disbelief at his brother for suggesting such a ludicrous idea. “He’ll die and I’ll be too busy trying to do a keg stand to save him.

“Well, I figured you would go,” Mikey said, “you never turn down free alcohol."

“As if I care,” Gerard replied dully, “No thanks anyway.”

“Maybe you should,” Mikey urged. “To keep Bob off my back?”

“Sorry, bro, you’re on your own,” Gerard replied, aimlessly flipping the channels. “I’ll end up spending more time protecting both you and Frank from Bob than drinking, and that would be exhausting and no fun for me.”

“I never ask anything from you, because you’re a douche and you wouldn’t do it anyway—“

“You’re right, and did it escape your skinny self I’m still thinking of hundred different ways to hurt you?”

“—But I urgently need this favor. Badly, I really like Katie and want to…er, make up for being an asshole to her—"

“Make up or make out?”

“Bob likes you, better than most people. You’re alive, aren’t you? What I’m trying to say is you can distract him from killing me while I try to get with Katie.”

“How is distracting Bob so my little brother can get lucky with his sister a good thing for me? And when Bob discovers what I’m doing, who else do you think he’s going to kill?”

“I’m hoping Frank can start bawling and maybe he’ll have mercy?” Mikey shot him a hopeful glance. Gerard growled in disgust.

“Oh god, Mikey, go away. I’m trying to watch Beatle Juice right now.”

“I’m telling Mom and you hate Beatle Juice.”

“Right now, it’s a whole lot more interesting than you,” Gerard replied in frustration, looking up to see his brother’s conniving face, practically seeing the wheels turning, “Tell mom what?”

“Think back the last five years,” his brother replied conspicuously.

“That’s a lot of shit to remember,” Gerard managed to get out, feeling his palms getting sweaty. Flashbacks appeared in his mind. And for the most part, Mikey knew enough to blackmail him into this. Son of a bitch. Whoever said to trust your family were fucking filthy liars, because family had the most shit on you when they turned on you. Not if, when. The big brother part of him was proud of Mikey for doing something so unlike his usual self, something so underhanded. But at the same time, he just wished he wasn’t the first victim of Mikey's newfound corruption.

“I know,” Mikey tapped his head with a finger and fixed him a smug look. “But I never did drugs so my long-term memory can store a lot, big bro.”

“Oh ha ha. Very funny and by the way? Fuck you for using my own ways against me,” he replied gruffly, torn between smacking his brother with the remote control or just punching him in the face. Both sounded tempting, but their mother was in the bedroom, too close to the living room area, and would no doubt hear him murdering his younger brother and he would never hear the end of it.

Violence is not the answer, he told himself. No, not the answer.

“I’m your brother, remember? It’s heredity.”

Violence could be the answer. Possibly...

“Doucebaggery is heredity? Fuck, you’re serious?”

“That it was you who put hair dye in mom’s conditioner and not our cousin Emily—"

“Holy shit! I’ll do it. Fuck you,” Gerard threw the remote in frustration, his aim off and it missed the wall, instead hitting his mother’s porcelain angel figurine that had been in their families for decades.

“Boys!” Donna’s voice rang loudly in the room, “What was that?”

“Mikey, you’re taking the blame for this!” Gerard hissed heatedly, “Mom already killed me about the stupid porn shit you blamed on me. And off the record? I found a lot of gay porn in there that I know was not mine, so take your fake heterosexuality somewhere else.”

Gerard rushed to his parent’s room, almost bumping into his mother,

“Mom, Mikey did it.”