Frank on a Leash

Frank and Mikey sat in the shade underneath their big oak tree at lunch, a plate of french fries balanced precariously on Frank's knee. Mikey's arm was slung over Frank's shoulder, his face hiding in the crook of his neck because he didn't want to look over and see Bob. He could pretend that it didn't bother him, but it did, it fucking terrified him sometimes. In the beginning, he didn't care. Bob didn't have a reason to hate him, God wouldn't let Bob kill him for no reason, right? That's how the world worked, be nice and don't make yourself noticed and no one will try to hurt you?

No, Mikey wasn't stupid, he knew God was dead. He knew people could hate him even as the shadow on the wall that he was, the inkblot on the world that needed to be wiped up before it left a stain. He knew that bad things could and probably would happen to him before the world left him for dead and he was left to pick himself up and go on with what was left of his existence. But it all meant more now, if he let the world beat him down, it would hurt his Frank too, and for that reason alone, he cared a little. He cared just enough to save himself at the gates of desolation, to pull himself out of this self-destruction he'd created for himself and just...live. For once, it was okay that he wasn't pretty, that he hated his nose and his glasses and his body, that he wasn't famous and rich and he couldn't ever imagine leaving New Jersey. It was okay that Wendy was still looking at him with those love-sick eyes every time they passed in the halls, it was okay that he'd never made lower than an A- in his life. Yeah, okay.

Frank was happily oblivious to all glares directed at him as he was too busy lathering fries in ketchup and forcing them into Mikey's mouth, concerned that his boyfriend was too skinny. The bones peeking out of his wrist and shoulders were very unsettling and mildly uncomfortable when Frank forced Mikey to cuddle with him while they watched DBZ together at his house in the evenings.

"Fraaaank, I appreciate your concern, but I can't eat any more," Mikey groaned, wiping the ketchup covering his mouth off on Frank's white sleeve. Then he glanced up hesitantly at Frank to make sure he wouldn't get mad at him for staining his shirt. Frank was giving him a look--one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile and one of his eyebrows arched delicately--but it wasn't the angry look.

"Michael, you dork..." Frank ducked down to press a soft kiss to Mikey's forehead, successfully blocking out all rays of hate aimed their way from Bob and Wendy. It was dumb, he thought, that they still tried. Even after he told Bob he loved Mikey, even after he made it clear that Mikey was his, they still thought they could make a difference. He understood that Bob was stubborn, and he didn't know her well enough, but Wendy seemed similar, but this was a lost cause. Despite being the 'nice guy' that he was, he was ready to tell them to just fuck off.

He set the plate of fries on the ground next to him, all desire to eat gone a long time ago (which was part of the reason why he was feeding Mikey). He curled arms around Mikey's thin frame and pulled him into his lap in one fluid motion, so fast that Mikey didn't even register it, just worked to get comfortable, to tuck his elbows in and find that nice dip in Frank's shoulder that he liked. This was normal to them, now. The warmth that spread through their chests in branches pressed up against one another, the combative pounds as their hearts battled for dominance of the sound spectrum.

Hidden by folds of a white oxford button up shirt, Mikey's voice was hardly audible as he asked the question that had been on his mind for a good chunk of the day. "Hey, what do you think your mom will say about us?"

Frank shrugged. "Don't worry about what she says, Mikey. We're going out and there's nothing our parents can do to stop us," Frank reassured him, firmly believing in his own optimistic and punk-inspired words.

This time, Mikey couldn't let himself believe Frank. He knew that there was a lot their parents could do to stop them. Mikey's parents could take away his car and make him go back to school in Bellville, or worse, ship him off to boarding school to deal with the fucked-up brats there. He'd didn't want to go, he liked being with Frank too much, and he even liked this school a little. He didn't know what would happen if he was taken away from all this, but he could guarantee it would be millions of times worse than his brother's breakdown. They would probably have to institutionalize him just so he wouldn't do something stupid, like hang himself on a tie, or take an electrical appliance in the shower. *cliche*

He groaned at the thoughts going to work on his brain like some kind of nucleiotic tapeworm, eating away all the happy. Why doesn't the world like two boys together? Why don't they see that it just happens that way sometimes? Sometimes two people are great for each other, they care so much about each other but they happen to be of the same gender. It wasn't fair. Yeah, everyone had heard the pessimistic saying that Life isn't fair, but this was because of ignorance, not some simple perchance of Life like cancer or a broken arm.

Mikey shook his head angrily, his eyebrows knitting together in the middle of his forehead and his hand tightening into a fist.

"S'not fair though. We aren't different from other couples, right?" he asked innocently. He needed Frank to say that what they were doing wasn't bad. He knew this was good, what they had, but he wanted to hear it out loud, because Frank always knew better about life and relationships and what went with them. Mikey didn't know shit about any of this. The whole kissing deal--which he really liked, by the way--was so new to him. Before he met Frank, he didn't know what the big deal was. It was just touching lips and it always looked gross and slimy when he saw two people kissing on in the mall or at school or on TV. He and Frank hadn't kissed on the lips yet, Frank was being really sweet and patient about it, but Mikey thought he would like it. He liked Frank's lips. They felt warm and smooth against his cheek, not crinkly and filled with dips and cracks like some people's lips. And they were such a pretty colour, almost unreal. It was almost like he wore lipstick. A yummy dark strawberry or raspberry colour. It made him wonder again how Frank's mouth would taste.

Frank didn't miss Mikey's stare fixated on his lips and purposefully flicked his tongue out to the edge of his bottom lip, running it slowly from one end to another. Mikey gulped and looked down shyly, a pink tint just barely showing through his face powder. Frank reached out to tuck Mikey's hair behind his ear before answering.

"Of course we're different, Mikey. Just look around at all the other couples," Frank said, flicking his hand at a random direction. Mikey twisted around to observe what couples Frank were talking about. They were sitting together, eating, talking, some of them kissing. They weren't doing anything more than Frank and Mikey were, so what is he supposed to be looking for? He didn't know, so he focused on one couple in particular. A boy sat on the steps of the school with a big hamburger grasped in both of his meaty hands. A girl sat beside him with her head laid on his shoulder. She wasn't eating, instead inspecting her long nails and looking utterly bored with life--and her preoccupied boyfriend--at the moment. Mikey also noticed that her lip colour was fake, he could see the red marks smudged on her teeth when she opened her mouth.

"I don't get it, Frankie."

"Well, do you see me ever ignoring you for a hamburger?" Frank asked, picking out the same couple Mikey did.

"No. You're a vegetarian. You wouldn't do that."

Frank smiled, shaking his head. Mikey was kind of missing the point. "Do you see me finding my nails more important than you?"

Mikey smirked. "No, boys don't do that."

Frank giggled and leaned up to kiss Mikey's cheek. Because, as annoyed as he could get over this, he just found Mikey cuter and more human for it. "Okay. Do you think any of those boys care about their girlfriends as much as I care about you?"

Mikey shrugged.

"Well, they don't. I know they don't because I'll bet that two weeks from now that boy over there with the hamburger has a different girlfriend that he can ignore. That's why we're different. Not because we're boys, but because we actually like each other," Frank said, spreading his palms out in a 'well there it is' way.

Mikey liked that answer. It was way better than his theory of being the same as the others. He grinned broadly and leaned in to peck Frank's lips. It wasn't anything, just a closed-mouth, opened-eyed kiss that lasted all of a second, but it meant so much coming from Mikey.