Frank on a Leash

"So..." Mikey began hesitantly, lighting up his cigarette. He and Frank had retreated to the park instead of finishing out the day and were now sitting under a nice shady Oak tree, Frank leaning against the rough bark and Mikey sitting a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest defensively and a concerned look misted on his face. He was worried that Frank was mad at him now. They'd rode here in complete silence, Frank not even attempting to make the remedial small talk that Mikey found endearing if not annoying, and it was different without it. He liked to hear Frank ramble on about anything, filling the dips and pocks of silence with his rich deep voice that betrayed how old he really was, betrayed that he wasn't a five year-old despite his infatuation with sugar and cartoons and sweet voices. It was safe too.

He longed for that safety as he watched Frank snatch his cigarette from his limp lips, not making a move to stop him as he lifted it to his own mouth and took a drag, letting his head loll back onto his collar as smoke drifted out of his wide-open mouth. Mikey's eyebrows knitted together in the middle of his forehead, wondering how Frank seemed so intimidating when he did that while Mikey just looked...like he was on his way to killing himself. It didn't cross Mikey's mind that Frank could get lung cancer, like Frank was always reminding him in the mornings before stealing his 'cancer stick' and taking a few drags before handing it back sheepishly, smiling widely. He just saw Frank's lips part slightly, exhaling gray dying breaths that assaulted the cold still air, painting it with translucent neutral swirls of dragons and snakes that curled up and puffed out of existence.

He heard Frank's light sigh and the soft sound cracked his head. This was his fault. He didn't know yet what he did, but this was all his fault and Frank had every right to be angry with him. Mikey's hands fumbled at the chain on his pants, waiting impatiently for the yelling, wanting to get it over quickly so that he could beg for forgiveness and make everything right again. He decided after several unending minutes of thick silence--in which time he'd had way too much time to think of every possibility--that it was his inability to save himself. The lack of desire to do anything with his life, now wasting away to nothing and slowly dwindling down to an evil who had to leech off of others to survive, a soul not motivated enough to pull his torn and tattered body off of the soiled floor and get his shit together. The need to be saved over and over again.

His want to be saved by Frank, to be fucking noticed by Frank, to make Frank worry and rush to his aide. He knew all along that it couldn't go on like this for very long, sooner or later one of them would snap and the cycle would come to a screeching halt.

"Frank?" His voice partially hidden by his coat only barely reached Frank's ears.

Frank didn't know why he was so angry. He didn't know who he was angry at--Wendy, definitely, but...when he looked over at Mikey's cowering form, he didn't want to hug him and make everything better. He wanted to shake him and yell until answers came flooding out of his frail little body. What he saw...Mikey was kissing Wendy at first! Kissing back, at least, and why would he do that? Mikey was his, there was no way Wendy could ever feel like this about Mikey, no one in the world could. He loves Mikey, so why was this shit happening? Isn't that 'love' crap supposed to conquer everything? He and Mikey had finally gotten to the point where they were completely comfortable with each other, not having to out up false pretenses or masks, and that whore ruined it all with one fucking kiss.

Frank sniffed and turned his head to the side, tears seeping slowly down his cheeks, down his nose to drip onto his hand that was fisted in his pants leg. He wasn't going to let Mikey see him like this. He is the strong one.

"T-hanks for helping me o-out earlier..." Mikey whispered shakily. Frank wouldn't even look at him now. He blinked away any sort of moisture that could possible ruin his makeup and brought his hand up to his mouth, biting down on his knuckle fretfully. "Why'd you do it, anyway?" he mumbled through the skin of his hand, biting down harder once the sentence left his mouth and nearly squeaking when he tasted the coppery red liquid gush out onto his awaiting tongue, lapping up the juice greedily. Squinting his eyes shut, he leaned back slowly until he felt the tree behind him, Frank's shoulder bumping his own.

Ah, and the insecure Mikey comes out... Frank thought, getting more upset. He frowned, his fingers busily tearing out the grass underneath his legs savagely and tossing them away, corpses of blades used for nothing and he just wanted to burn them or something, hear their weak little cries as life drained away, into the ground to begin decomposition.

"Mikey...just...what the hell?" He made sure to wipe his face before turning slightly to glance at his friend, fury quickly melting as he saw what a mess Mikey was in. His eyes swimming with tears he wouldn't let fall, quivering lips disappearing into his mouth, breaths coming in short hitches as he tried to get himself under control.

"W-what? What did I do?" Mikey sputtered out the side of his mouth.

Frank dropped his voice to a low, pathetic whine, looking up at the tree, squinting at the rays of sun that peeked through the canopy of leaves. "Why did you kiss her? Why didn't you push her away or something! You didn't have to stand there...like that, just..." He sighed and got down to the real point of it all, despite not wanting to even consider the possibility that Mikey didn't want Frank to stop what was going on, that maybe he liked Wendy and he just came in like an idiot. "Did you like it?"

Mikey huffed, looking down in shame. "No. Well, I mean...at first it wasn't so bad. It was just touching lips, you know? I don't know why everyone gets so excited about it. I see people on the streets kissing all the time, and I don't get it. Why is it good? It's slimy and you get spit everywhere...how's that supposed to make someone like you?"

A smile crept its way onto Frank's lips as he listened to Mikey's innocent explanation, falling even more for the boy as he watched him lean his head on his fist and go on, stumbling over words every now and then.

"And then, she tried to do something with her tongue, and that grossed me out." To show his displeasure, Mikey wrinkled his nose cutely and shook his head curtly. "But...well, who knows where her tongue has been? It's creepy."

Frank snorted, abandoning any left over rage that he had bottled up. Instead, he decided that there was enough of this shitting around and he should just say it before he lost his nerve and life went on as usual. He glanced up at Mikey again warily, a smile planted soft on the side of his mouth, fingers digging deep into the cold earth as he slowly built up his nerve. His hand raked through the grass until he felt the skin of Mikey's hand tightened into a fist. Mikey relaxed his hand when he felt Frank's fingers glide over his knuckles, the touch warm and soft and hesitant just like everything had been for him this day. He flipped his hand over so his palm was touching Frank's, knotting their fingers together desperately, searching for the social Frank underneath this...other, mad, anti-social shell of his friend.

"Mmm, Mikey?"

Mikey noted the hesitance in Frank's voice, immediately not liking it. Frank didn't get nervous, he didn't get shy or mad or any of this shit, he was supposed to remain Mikey's sweet lifesaver, always there with open arms and a smile to get him through the dull days of being ignored or pushed into walls. Instead of answering vocally, he tightened his grip on Frank's hand and made a small little noise in the back of his throat, abandoning words altogether.

"When I was talking with...well, when I was threatening Wendy..." he began, running his thumb over the bone of Mikey's thumb soothingly because he knew Mikey didn't like this and instinctively he wanted to make it better. He didn't like it either, because he knew already how this would turn out. Mikey wouldn't believe him because he's so insecure and sees himself as this awful monster that no one will ever want. He'll think Frank is kidding, or worse, lying, and Frank didn't know how to just make Mikey understand.

"I said you were mine and I meant every word. I know you're not going to believe me, but it's true." He racked his brain trying to think of something that would convince Mikey. "I mean, have you ever seen me date a girl?" He shrugged sheepishly.

"N-no," Mikey breathed. He could feel his chest constricting, webs of muscle tightening and making it harder and harder to draw breaths. He thought back on the time he'd spent at Frank's school. Nearly three months. Frank hadn't showed any attention to any girl. Or boy. Only Mikey.