Frank on a Leash

Mikey's mom, Donna, just stared at the two boys standing in her kitchen. She really never wanted Mikey to turn goth like Gerard did. It wasn't a good way for her baby boy to go. But he did seem slightly happier now, after switching schools, so she wasn't going to be anal about it. He even had a friend stay over! That never happened before, and she couldn't help feeling a little pride for him. But this was too much. That boy, Frank, looked so adorable when Mikey introduced them earlier today, so adorable and short and hyper, but now his face was covered in make up, he was wearing all black, and her son was leading him on a leash! Like a common dog, mind you!

"Um...hello. Mikey, Frank, dears, do either of you want anything to eat? I could fix some sandwiches," she offered.

"Nah, thanks Mom. We're gonna go up to my room and read comics." Mikey waved at his mom even as he was leading Frank up the stairs to his room. They spent the rest of the day and well into the night lounging around Mikey's room reading comics, then arguing about which hero was the best, forgetting the argument, then repeating the whole process at random intervals of time. It was comfortable, just two dorks hanging out, having fun and acting like they were normal. Right now, nothing--no superficial words like goth or gay--mattered. They were afforded the luxury of being equals with everyone else for a few hours.

Unfortunately, it eventually became so late that Frank began nodding off in his comfortable position laying in the crook of Mikey's arm. His eyes drooped under the thick coat of purple eyeliner and his head lolled to the side, occasionally bumping Mikey's chin. He shook his head and squinted his eyes open, his head swimming with thoughts of how enticing falling into sweet slumber beside Mikey would be.

"Mikey, I'm sleepy," he mumbled. He yawned cutely and tried to snuggle into his love interest's chest to get more comfortable, but was halted in his plans.

"Go wash off your face, Frank. I don't want you to get make up all over the bed," Mikey said, giving Frank a little push off of the bed. Frank pouted. He stood up and grabbed Mikey's hand, trying to pull him up with him.

"Come with me, Mikey..." He yawned again. Wait, aren't yawns contagious? Then why wasn't Mikey yawning as well? Why isn't he yawning as well? Pft, he was too tired to marvel at his friend right now. And Mikey was now slowly pushing himself off the bed, allowing himself to be led to the bathroom. Mikey didn't realise how tired he was until he was standing, swaying on his feet. He latched onto Frank's arm as they both stumbled down the hallway, probably waking his parents and the neighbors in the process. They reached the bathroom and Mikey flipped on the light, making them both squint at the attack on their eyes. Mikey opened the cabinet over the sink and got his makeup remover. It was sad, really, that he needed makeup remover on a daily basis. He was turning into his brother! *shocked gasp*

Since Frank didn't know much about the removal of makeup, he just went to scrubbing his face vigorously until it felt chapped and burning. The purple residue still remained when he examined himself, so he let out an exasperated sigh and turned to Mikey, who was slowly and carefully wiping his own face. Frank felt a little jolt of excitement when he realised he would get to see Mikey without makeup! But now to the task at hand:

"Mikey, help..."

Mikey glanced down at his helpless friend, smirking. Did all boys have this much trouble with makeup? He never did, he's always had Gerard to hang around and teach him (against his will) about this shit. He remembered one day, a few years ago before Gerard left for school, they were both sitting at the kitchen table. Mikey was eating breakfast, and his brother was crouching down in his seat in front of a little hand mirror propped up against his books with a stick of eyeliner in his hand, looking eerily like a girl with his long hair and slender fingers.

"Geez, that's so gay. I hope you poke your eye out, Gee," Mikey had said. So Gerard stopped in his attempt to draw thick black lines under his eyes to jump at Mikey. They ended up on the floor, Gerard holding his brother down while he applied makeup to his eyes. And Mikey had to go to school like that, because he didn't know how to get it off! Oh, he got beaten up severely for that. He never told Gerard about it, though. Mikey didn't want him to feel responsible.

He finished his own face before directing Frank to sit on the edge of his tub. He got out one of the wipes that had make up remover fused into it (oh so convenient for goth people like himself), and began wiping at Frank's face gently. He found himself repeating words his brother had said to him before. "Don't scrub at it or you'll rub your face raw and it'll be sore."

"Mkay..." Frank mumbled. He just wanted to be able to open his eyes and look at Mikey. He had his eyes squeezed shut while Mikey was helping him take off the make up, and he was starting to get anxious. It was just makeup, not a big deal, but he was finally going to see Mikey's face without it! What did he look like? What colour was his skin really? More importantly, what colour are his lips? The black nothingness of his eyelids was about to drive him mad.

"Alright, we're done," Mikey announced. Frank breathed a sigh of relief and fluttered his eyes open up to look at Mikey, who was still leaning over him. And damn...he was beautiful. He had a tan! A fucking tan! Mind you, it wasn't particularly dark, but it gave him a look of...not being one of the undead monsters who lurked around graveyards at night. It was weird to see Mikey look alive. He liked it very much. He wanted to reach out and touch Mikey's cheek, just to make sure it was real. It couldn't be real. It wasn't supposed to be like this, Mikey should be that unattractive beauty, one you had to look closely to find. It shouldn't be on display like this for the world to see some dumb GIRL could come along, realise how beautiful Mikey was, and steal him away. Frank just wanted to be selfish and keep Mikey all to himself.

Mikey shifted his eyes nervously. Frank was outright staring at him, and it was making him very uncomfortable. He didn't like to be looked at, especially without a layer of white powder and enough eyeliner to choke a fish. Frank leaned up to slide Mikey's glasses off of his nose and ears. He set the glasses down beside him on the side of the tub with a clink, and examined Mikey's eyes. Man, he had pretty eyes. He'd already said it once, and it was never more true than now, where the gorgeous dark eyes in question was surrounded by lightly tanned, unblemished golden skin. Frank's eyes darted down to Mikey's mouth. His pretty pale pink lips that always seemed to be turned down in a sweet pout.

"Mikey, you're pretty," Frank said, sounding like a child in awe. He ran his fingers along Mikey's jaw, making him shiver. Mikey reached up to still his hand against his cheek. He found that he liked the feather-light touch way too much to let Frank continue with his curious wandering.

"No I'm not, Frank. I can't stand the way I look without makeup. I just look so...human."

He didn't feel human. Far from it, actually. Aren't humans supposed to be able to converse with one another? Or be able to touch each other without the awful sensation of their flesh coming alive and trying to rip away from the rest of their body? He was a fucking freak. What kind of person can't touch someone else? How is he supposed to go through life like that! Who the hell would ever want him? No one had that patience. He was just waiting for the day when Frank gets sick of his skittish ways and leaves. That would kill him. He'd never really felt heartbreak--he never thought he'd be in a relationship in order to get his heart broken--but losing Frank would be very close. No, it would be worse. Now that he'd met Frank, he wasn't willing to let him go. But he still wanted to keep him at a safe distance. Just so Frank wouldn't see what he's really like.