His Second Choice

Had Mikey actually listened to his overbearing older brother, he wouldn't be in this situation. Instead of staring at the door, wishing for the knob to turn and reveal someone he hadn't seen for days, he could be enjoying life. Maybe he'd have someone who actually loved him; someone who would actually stay.

But when did he ever want to believe his brother was right? When did anyone every want to listen to family, especially when they were advising you against something you had strong feelings for?

He should have listened when Gerard said Pete was only trouble. The words seemed to have passed clear through one ear and out the other. Mikey didn't want to think it was true; all he wanted was him. He wanted to love him, and he wanted to be loved.

His eyes wandered to the blank, white wall. The same wall they had been supposed to paint today, but what do you know—he hadn't shown up. Mikey should have known it was unlikely he'd actually show; yet he let himself get his hopes up. A wooden frame lay against the unpainted wall; a blown-up picture of Pete and him behind the glass. A smile crept onto Mikey's face upon seeing the bliss upon his own in the picture. Pete's arm was around Mikey's waist, pulling him close. He sighed; why wasn't it possible to turn back time? Mikey wanted to go back to the days when he didn't know what was really going on.
Acting on a sudden surge of anger, Mikey ripped the picture from the frame and tore it to pieces. Just doing so twisted his heart. Damn it, why couldn't everything just be simpler? He couldn't understand why Pete needed to have someone else in his life other than Mikey. Hadn't Mikey given him enough? Was he not kind enough, not pretty enough? He could change, if that was what Pete wanted.

No, you don't need to change for anyone, Mikey.

He wanted to believe it, he really did. But obviously, Mikey was missing something that Pete wanted, something someone else had.

With a sigh, Mikey walked into his kitchen and stuck a bowl of ramen in the microwave. He wasn't in the mood to make something substantial tonight; all he wanted to do was sit on the couch and sulk. Watching the bowl turn behind the patterned glass, he started to wonder when his social life started to go down the drain. Recently, he'd really only been talking to Pete and Gerard; he didn't even talk to his band mates other than the occasional text. He hadn't spoken to Alicia for weeks, either. Was it because Pete made it so? No, it was no one's fault but his own. Mikey got himself into this. He'd have to fix it.

Mikey took out the ramen and stirred in the flavoring. He turned and headed into the living room, only to see the person he'd wanted to see all evening standing in the kitchen doorway. Gasping, Mikey dropped the bowl and jumped backwards. "Shit!" He exclaimed, wide-eyed. Faintly, he heard a chuckle, but Mikey was too—too livid to hear much of anything. With an angry sigh, he picked up the bowl and threw it in the sink, and went to grab a towel. Pete beat him to it. He watched as the older man cleaned up. At least he was doing something right.

Pete threw the cloth in the sink and wrapped his arms around Mikey. It was obvious he knew Mikey was mad at him. Placing his arms around his neck, Mikey knew he couldn't stay mad at Pete, especially over something so silly. And definitely not after one of Pete's apologetic hugs. The sort Mikey seemed to be getting way too much lately.

After a moment, Mikey pulled away and smiled nervously at Pete. "Hi." It was the first thing that left his mouth; a word that send Pete into a fit of laughter. Frowning, Mikey crossed his arms. Was else was he to say? 'I missed you,' would have been appropriate, he supposed, after an intimate moment. Too bad it hadn't come to mind.

"Hey, Mikes." Pete grinned, reaching out a hand to ruffle Mikey's hair. Before he could, Mikey ducked away. He hated that. "I'm sorry I haven't been around." The younger man added, looking down at the ground. Mikey sighed. He could at least make eye-contact, instead of acting so guilty. It wasn't like Mikey had no idea where Pete had been. He knew that very well, and he didn't like it.

"It's alright." Mikey told him quietly, shrugging. But really, it wasn't. "I just wish you'd spend a little more time here, y'know?" He smiled down at the shorter man, trying to act as if it wasn't that big of a deal.

Perhaps if Mikey didn't always pass things off as being less important, he wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe Pete would really be one-hundred-percent his and Mikey wouldn't feel as though he was on the edge of depression again.

It was then, peeking around Pete, Mikey saw a suitcase. Confused, he looked up at Pete. "I was planning to stay with you for a while," Pete told him. "If that's alright." Mikey grinned and nodded enthusiastically. It'd been months since Pete had actually stayed the night, and just the thought of having him to himself for possibly days excited them. Oh, the things they could do.

They ended up on the couch minutes later, a crime show playing, and Mikey cuddled into Pete's chest. For the next two hours, they lay together until Pete's phone rang. Mikey sat up, allowing Pete to reach the buzzing object. "It's Gabe. Give me a couple minutes." Pete told Mikey.

Mikey frowned at Pete's retreating body. Gabe? What was he doing calling at ten at night? Pete was supposed to be his for the next couple days. Couldn't Pete ignore a phone call?
When he finally came back, twenty minutes later, Mikey was on the opposite edge of the couch. "I'm sorry, Mikes. Gabe is out of town, and he wanted to say good night." Pete said, trying to pull Mikey back towards him. Mikey shook out of his grip.

"You could have ignored it." Mikey told him, trying to keep his voice even. He was sure he failed. Turning to face the television, he continued quietly, "You're supposed to be spending more time with me, anyways."

Out of the corner of his eye, Mikey saw Pete's face drop. He was obviously torn about this; he was guilty. He deserves it, Mikey thought.

"Oh, Mikes, I can't just ignore a phone call from my boyfriend."

I'm your boyfriend, too, Mikey wanted to tell him. Instead, he found his eyes burning and tears threatening to spill. It was only around Pete that Mikey found himself so…weak. He didn't respond, afraid his voice would crack. Mikey pulled his knees close and rested his chin in his hand, all while staring at Pete blankly.

Pete scooted closer and put an arm around Mikey. "I love you both so much it hurts." He said.

But it was obvious who he loved more. Gabe. They were perfect for each other, Mikey decided; each lying, cheating bastards, yet somehow charming and perfect. Someone that Mikey would fall in love with.

"Mikey, you know that if Gabe wasn't around, it would be only you."

It was those words that broke him. Mikey felt as though his heart was literally being squeezed and twisted, then torn out of his chest. As though it was some sort of toy; a toy Pete enjoyed playing with.

Gabe would always come first, Mikey realized. He should have known that. Mikey should have known that he was just a second choice.

It was that realization that changed everything.

Mikey stood up and glared at Pete. Quietly, he spoke. "Get out." He raised a shaking arm and pointed towards the door.

Pete was surprised, by the looks of it. His mouth was partly open and his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. The older man stood up tried to touch Mikey. He wouldn't have any of it; Mikey pushed him away.

"Iam not a second fucking choice, Pete!" Mikey was hysterical. He was positive his voice was shaking. He didn't want this, but he needed it.

"Mikey, calm down. You're not—" Pete started, but Mikey cut him off angrily.

"Bullshit, Pete! Gabe's always first, and he always will be. There's no point in this anymore."

"No, we can work through this. I don't want to lose you, Mikey." Pete's eyes were full of sadness. They made Mikey want to forget what he said. He wanted to climb back into Pete's arms and forgive him, but if he did, he'd never have the strength to say goodbye.

"Pete. Get the fuck out of my house. I don't want to see you again." Mikey's voice was stronger now; solid and almost emotionless.

Pete headed towards the door. "Mikey, please—"

"Go!" Mikey spat, pointing once more to the door. Pete continued to protest, until Mikey physically shoved him out the door and slammed it shut. He heard a sob from behind it, and another 'Mikey!'

"Fucking leave!" He shouted.

'Fuck!'

The shout from outside was loud, followed by the slamming of a car door and the squeal of tires. Pete had left.

Mikey sunk to the floor and sobbed. He was sure that was the right thing to do. It was what Mikey needed; he couldn't have someone so inconsistent in his life.

But why did he feel like he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life?