Pretty Handsome Awkward
One/One
Gerard has a hard time seeing Mikey all grown up. Not that 17 is all that grown up, really. But this morning when Gerard was pissing and Mikey came into the bathroom to brush his teeth, Gerard couldn’t help but notice that his brother was really. Handsome. Not adorable, not cute, fucking handsome. Mikey, even with the toothbrush in his mouth and foamy dribble on his chin, is so fucking handsome. Pretty, even. But. Time feels like it’s been flying—and until this morning, Gerard saw Mikey as his awkward, geeky little brother, all weird and gangly and his. But now, now he’s fucking pretty, and Gerard really doesn’t know what to do with himself.
He only realizes he’s staring when Mikey turns to him and says ‘um’, before cupping his hand over his mouth as minty foam falls out of it and onto his shirt, and Gerard laughs and shakes off and forgets about it.
---
Gerard doesn’t think he’s ever smiled wider in his life than when Mikey strolled across the roll-in stage, hideous blue gown and all, and accepted his diploma, and. And he’s fucking pretty. Gerard’s been suppressing his thoughts on his brother’s beauty since they started, but on the stage, in the glow of the sun he’s. He’s fucking pretty, undeniably so and Gerard doesn’t even pretend to push the thoughts away—he’s too happy.
“m’proud of you, kiddo” he says when Mikey’s offstage (he’s the last one, alphabetical order was never kind to the Ways), pulling him into his arms.
Mikey presses his chest against Gerard’s and rests his arms on his lower back, mumbling into Gerard’s hair,
“don’t call me ‘kiddo’, asshole.”, though Gerard can feel Mikey’s smile against his neck.
Gerard lets out this sort of chuckle thing and pulls away, allowing their mother to squeeze the air out of Mikey’s body while their father stands to the side, smiling and taking pictures.
---
When Mikey turns 21, Gerard takes him out to a few bars, Mikey rolling his eyes at the notion because, Jesus Christ Gerard, he’s been drinking since he was 15, but he still lets Gerard buy him a few rounds.
Gerard hangs back at their table, watching as Mikey dances and smiles and is watched by every fucking person in the bar. Well. Okay. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but every time Gerard tears his gaze from Mikey, it seems like there’s a new pair of lecherous eyes looking at his brother’s exposed skin. Gerard growls to himself and hunches over his rum and coke.
“Hey Gee!” Mikey calls over, breaking free from the gripping hands and prowling eyes. Gerard looks up and gasps a little. Mikey’s eyes a blown wide, and his smile is blown even wider, and his shirt is stuck to his chest with sweat—probably not just his—and his jeans are low on his hips. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.
Mikey’s smile is still wide when he sits across from Gerard, playing footsy with him under the table.
“How’s it…how’s it goin’?” his speech is slightly slurred and Gerard thinks of the first time Mikey had alcohol in the basement, Mikey slurring and laughing drunkenly after only one beer and Gerard reaching over and ruffling his hair. Mikey was still Gerard’s awkward little brother then. Now he’s.
Now he’s pretty. He’s still awkward, still Gerard’s little brother, but he’s pretty. And there’s something not so brotherly in the way Gerard’s breath catches in his chest and his face flushes when some guy asks Mikey to dance and Mikey sits on Gerard’s lap, smiles, and says that he’s taken.
---
Later that night Mikey’s hovering above Gerard, glasses on the night stand, eyes slightly glazed over. Gerard doesn’t remember breathing since they left the bar. Mikey smiles against Gerard’s skin, kissing his forehead.
“You’re so…you’re so pretty, Gee.”
Gerard smiles a bit and elbows Mikey in the ribs.
“Shut up dude. You’re pretty.”
Mikey giggles and rolls off Gerard, tangling their legs and pressing his body against his brother’s.
“We’re fucking faggots.”
Gerard laughs and shakes his head.
“Speak for yourself man.”
---
The next day the planes hit. Gerard can see the bodies falling from the ferry. Nobody goes to work that day, Gerard feels like a ghost when he stays on the ferry and hails a taxi back home. When Gerard opens the door he’s tackled by his family, Mikey at the forefront of the assault, his body shaking with sobs against Gerard’s neck.
“Gee…Gee, I…I thought…” He says between violent, uneven, breaths.
“No” Gerard says, “no, I…” he starts to move his hands to Mikey’s hips before he’s sucked in to a choking hug from his parents, his father even tearing up.
---
Mikey sneaks into his room that night, and every night after. Gerard isn’t sure if Mikey thinks he’s asleep or not, but he doesn’t mind either way.
One day, though, Mikey sneaks down as usual, and Gerard is sitting up in his bed, reading.
“O-oh, I. Uh.”
Gerard smiles softly and pats the spot on the bed beside him, setting his book on the floor. Mikey smiles shyly and walks over, in his cotton boxers and ratty Moz shirt. He lies down next to Gerard, putting his head on his brother’s chest and pulling the covers up immediately.
“Hey” Mikey says.
“Hey.” Gerard whispers after a pause.
Mikey tilts his head up, looking at Gerard through squinted eyes, his glasses up in his room.
“I was…really scared, Gee.”
Gerard blinks before reaching out, intent on ruffling Mikey’s hair, but he actually just ends up cradling his skull.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Mikey shakes his head and surges up, biting his lip, leaning his forehead against Gerard’s.
“No, no, Gee. I was. I mean…I knew you were okay…I just knew, but…”
Gerard sets a hand on Mikey’s arm, stroking the skin lightly with his fingers, urging him to continue. Mikey breathes deep and swallows hard, moving forward, pressing his lips against Gerard’s. It takes Gerard a second to actually process what’s happening, but when he does, he grips Mikey’s hips so hard they might bruise, and kisses back with more passion than he’s ever put into anything. When Mikey pulls away he’s panting and flushed, a few tears on his cheek and a brilliant smile on his lips.
“I was scared that…that I’d never get the chance…to do that…”
Gerard smiles and pecks Mikey’s lips again.
“You’re so fucking pretty, Mikes.”
Mikey scoffs a little and punches Gerard’s shoulder.
“And you’re a fag. I thought we’d been over this?”
Gerard laughs and pulls Mikey to his chest, and he’s so pretty in the moonlight, streaming in through the tiny window at the top of the wall, and the lamp is still on, casting shadows across the angles of his face. Gerard makes it his mission that night to kiss every single inch of Mikey’s skin. It takes him a few hours, Mikey laughing every time Gerard kisses somewhere ticklish or manhandles him when he realizes he missed a spot, but he succeeds.
He only realizes he’s staring when Mikey turns to him and says ‘um’, before cupping his hand over his mouth as minty foam falls out of it and onto his shirt, and Gerard laughs and shakes off and forgets about it.
---
Gerard doesn’t think he’s ever smiled wider in his life than when Mikey strolled across the roll-in stage, hideous blue gown and all, and accepted his diploma, and. And he’s fucking pretty. Gerard’s been suppressing his thoughts on his brother’s beauty since they started, but on the stage, in the glow of the sun he’s. He’s fucking pretty, undeniably so and Gerard doesn’t even pretend to push the thoughts away—he’s too happy.
“m’proud of you, kiddo” he says when Mikey’s offstage (he’s the last one, alphabetical order was never kind to the Ways), pulling him into his arms.
Mikey presses his chest against Gerard’s and rests his arms on his lower back, mumbling into Gerard’s hair,
“don’t call me ‘kiddo’, asshole.”, though Gerard can feel Mikey’s smile against his neck.
Gerard lets out this sort of chuckle thing and pulls away, allowing their mother to squeeze the air out of Mikey’s body while their father stands to the side, smiling and taking pictures.
---
When Mikey turns 21, Gerard takes him out to a few bars, Mikey rolling his eyes at the notion because, Jesus Christ Gerard, he’s been drinking since he was 15, but he still lets Gerard buy him a few rounds.
Gerard hangs back at their table, watching as Mikey dances and smiles and is watched by every fucking person in the bar. Well. Okay. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but every time Gerard tears his gaze from Mikey, it seems like there’s a new pair of lecherous eyes looking at his brother’s exposed skin. Gerard growls to himself and hunches over his rum and coke.
“Hey Gee!” Mikey calls over, breaking free from the gripping hands and prowling eyes. Gerard looks up and gasps a little. Mikey’s eyes a blown wide, and his smile is blown even wider, and his shirt is stuck to his chest with sweat—probably not just his—and his jeans are low on his hips. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.
Mikey’s smile is still wide when he sits across from Gerard, playing footsy with him under the table.
“How’s it…how’s it goin’?” his speech is slightly slurred and Gerard thinks of the first time Mikey had alcohol in the basement, Mikey slurring and laughing drunkenly after only one beer and Gerard reaching over and ruffling his hair. Mikey was still Gerard’s awkward little brother then. Now he’s.
Now he’s pretty. He’s still awkward, still Gerard’s little brother, but he’s pretty. And there’s something not so brotherly in the way Gerard’s breath catches in his chest and his face flushes when some guy asks Mikey to dance and Mikey sits on Gerard’s lap, smiles, and says that he’s taken.
---
Later that night Mikey’s hovering above Gerard, glasses on the night stand, eyes slightly glazed over. Gerard doesn’t remember breathing since they left the bar. Mikey smiles against Gerard’s skin, kissing his forehead.
“You’re so…you’re so pretty, Gee.”
Gerard smiles a bit and elbows Mikey in the ribs.
“Shut up dude. You’re pretty.”
Mikey giggles and rolls off Gerard, tangling their legs and pressing his body against his brother’s.
“We’re fucking faggots.”
Gerard laughs and shakes his head.
“Speak for yourself man.”
---
The next day the planes hit. Gerard can see the bodies falling from the ferry. Nobody goes to work that day, Gerard feels like a ghost when he stays on the ferry and hails a taxi back home. When Gerard opens the door he’s tackled by his family, Mikey at the forefront of the assault, his body shaking with sobs against Gerard’s neck.
“Gee…Gee, I…I thought…” He says between violent, uneven, breaths.
“No” Gerard says, “no, I…” he starts to move his hands to Mikey’s hips before he’s sucked in to a choking hug from his parents, his father even tearing up.
---
Mikey sneaks into his room that night, and every night after. Gerard isn’t sure if Mikey thinks he’s asleep or not, but he doesn’t mind either way.
One day, though, Mikey sneaks down as usual, and Gerard is sitting up in his bed, reading.
“O-oh, I. Uh.”
Gerard smiles softly and pats the spot on the bed beside him, setting his book on the floor. Mikey smiles shyly and walks over, in his cotton boxers and ratty Moz shirt. He lies down next to Gerard, putting his head on his brother’s chest and pulling the covers up immediately.
“Hey” Mikey says.
“Hey.” Gerard whispers after a pause.
Mikey tilts his head up, looking at Gerard through squinted eyes, his glasses up in his room.
“I was…really scared, Gee.”
Gerard blinks before reaching out, intent on ruffling Mikey’s hair, but he actually just ends up cradling his skull.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Mikey shakes his head and surges up, biting his lip, leaning his forehead against Gerard’s.
“No, no, Gee. I was. I mean…I knew you were okay…I just knew, but…”
Gerard sets a hand on Mikey’s arm, stroking the skin lightly with his fingers, urging him to continue. Mikey breathes deep and swallows hard, moving forward, pressing his lips against Gerard’s. It takes Gerard a second to actually process what’s happening, but when he does, he grips Mikey’s hips so hard they might bruise, and kisses back with more passion than he’s ever put into anything. When Mikey pulls away he’s panting and flushed, a few tears on his cheek and a brilliant smile on his lips.
“I was scared that…that I’d never get the chance…to do that…”
Gerard smiles and pecks Mikey’s lips again.
“You’re so fucking pretty, Mikes.”
Mikey scoffs a little and punches Gerard’s shoulder.
“And you’re a fag. I thought we’d been over this?”
Gerard laughs and pulls Mikey to his chest, and he’s so pretty in the moonlight, streaming in through the tiny window at the top of the wall, and the lamp is still on, casting shadows across the angles of his face. Gerard makes it his mission that night to kiss every single inch of Mikey’s skin. It takes him a few hours, Mikey laughing every time Gerard kisses somewhere ticklish or manhandles him when he realizes he missed a spot, but he succeeds.