Incisions to Corrupt a Mind

“…and you’re telling me that he actually held your hand?”

Frank nodded. Brendon just looked up over the book he was reading, his entirely perfected bitchface on. “I don’t believe you,” he said curtly, setting the book down. Frank sighed.

“I didn’t ask you to believe me, but m’not lying,” he responded, glancing lazily down at the food he pushed halfheartedly around his plate. Brendon gave a scoff, leaned over, and pulled Frank’s plate from him.

“If you aren’t gonna eat this, I will,” he said, stabbing a piece of lettuce before bringing it to his mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with salad.”

“Says the carnivore to the vegetarian,” Frank drawled, rolling his eyes. “I know that,” he said, pulling his plate back. “I’m just a bit distracted and– hey, quit eating my fucking tomatoes!”

Brendon grinned around a mouthful of cherry tomato halves, throwing Frank’s fork back at him and laughing slightly.

“You’re a dick,” Frank whined. Brendon was halfway through opening his mouth to respond when seemingly out of nowhere appeared someone dressed almost identical to Brendon, the day that Frank had met him.

“Bren!” the mystery kid squealed, rubbing his face on Brendon’s shoulder. Frank blinked at this; Brendon was unfazed.

“Hey, baby,” he said, turning to the kid clinging to him. He ran a hand through the boy’s hair before turning back to Frank. “This is Ryan,” he said.

A look of realization crossed Frank’s face. Now, he could most definitely see the similarities in the shape of the kid’s nose of the way his eyes sparkled wild¬– this was most definitely the kid Frank saw lick a locker that one time. Well, okay.

“Yeah, you’ve told me about him,” Frank said cautiously, busying himself with the salad he had become suddenly interested in. Brendon looked over at him and snorted, hitting his hand before saying, “My boyfriend, you remember me telling you?”

And no, Frank didn’t. He never remembered, he never knew, and if it was as of late he was probably too busy thinking about Gerard anyway, but he responded with a, “Yeah,” hoping to get out of the situation quickly.

The kid, Ryan (and now Frank most definitely remembered seeing him around school, doing a lot more weird that licking metal and combination locks) sat himself down on Brendon’s lap, one arm wrapped around the other boy’s waist. “Hey, Bren,” he giggled, leaning in to him. “S’up?”

Brendon gave the brunette boy a wide smile. “Not much, m’just eating lunch with Frank– hey, I told you about him, right?”

Ryan looked over at Frank. “Yeah, you’re the one the Ways wanna fuck, or whatnot.”

Frank blushed. “No, I don’t think that’s–” but he didn’t get a clear response out before Brendon interrupted with, “No, that’s Pete.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ryan sighed, hugely over-exaggerated realization in his voice. “Right, yeah, Mikey wants in Pete’s pants. Wait, then whose pants does Gerard want in?”

“Frank’s,” Brendon responded at the same time Frank said, “No one’s.”

“Wait, now I’m confused,” the brunette boy whined. “He doesn’t want in anyone’s pants but he wants in Frank’s pants but he doesn’t want in– wait, what?”

“Frank’s in denial,” Brendon grinned.

“I am not!” Frank cried, throwing a cherry tomato half at the older boy. “He doesn’t want in my pants or anyone else’s, because he’s got that weird haphephobia-whatever.”

“But yet he holds your hand,” Brendon grinned. “You know, and that one time he cuddled you,” Frank regretted ever letting that slip, “or the fact that he’s always touching you like, or the shoulder, and when you see him now he hugs you… and he’s drawn all over you, like I don’t think I’ve seen you once without a sleeve after you hang out with him.”

“That means jack shit,” Frank grumped. Brendon just smiled.

“Face it, Frankie. You like him, really, and he likes you too.” Ryan nodded enthusiastically.

“Whatever,” Frank sighed. “I don’t even know why I bother.”

“Because you love me,” Brendon grinned, once again stealing a tomato half from the younger boy. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Ryan’s cheek, before asking him, “So how’d you do on that Bio test, sweetie?”

“Probably terrible,” the brunette whined. “I remembered about three things, and I probably remembered them wrong, so that’s just great.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Frank began, glad the focus was off him for the moment, “I sucked at Bio too. I swear they put questions on there about shit you never learn.”

“Yeah!” Ryan cried. “Like, there was a question on the nervous system and we’re in fucking photosynthesis right now! I don’t know about the nervous system, I don’t give a shit about the nervous system!”

“Calm down, sweetie,” Brendon purred, running a hand through the other boy’s hair. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m sure you did great.”

“You’re just saying that,” Ryan whined. Frank giggled. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” and Frank realized, at that moment that he was about to compare the way Gerard acted around him to the way Ryan acted around Brendon, and they were in a relationship, and oh. “Never mind,” Frank said quickly, distracting himself with a lone piece of carrot.

“Well whatever to you to,” Ryan pouted. “Face it, Brendon, I suck at Bio. Your tutoring is clearly not helping me.”

“Well maybe if you’d actually focus on the material, and not in getting into my pants…”

“Whatever,” Ryan bitched. “You love it.”

“Guys, you’re super cute together and I really don’t mind if you sit here and relationship all over the place, but I don’t need the visuals,” Frank groaned. Brendon laughed.

“Whatever, Catholic Boy. You’re just jealous that your boy is clueless when it comes to being at all much of anything.”

“You know what, he’s not my boy–”

“But you want him to be,” Brendon cut off. Ryan nodded.

“Yeah, Bren tells me about the way you talk about him.” Ryan clapped his hands together and held them near his heart, and faked gooey lovesick eyes. “Oh, Gerard is so perfect and his art is so pretty, and he smells like strawberries and his voice is like angel orgasms,” the brunette mocked, and then giggled. “You’re totally in love with him, or something.”

“Whatever,” Frank groaned, defeated. “And anyway, if I did, I wouldn’t go about it like that.”

Brendon laughed. “Except you kinda do. Maybe not as exaggerated as Ry does,” and Brendon kissed Ryan’s cheek, “but you do. You talk about him like he’s the Second Coming, and your eyes get all happy and your voice gets all dreamy…” Frank glared at him. “What, you do!”

“It doesn’t matter if I do,” Frank sighed. “It’s not like I can take him home to my mom anyway. No, “Hey mom, this is my 19-year-old boyfriend” would go over well at all.”

“Wait, he’s nineteen?” Ryan asked. Frank nodded, rubbing at his face in frustration.

“Yeah, he’s legally an adult, he can buy cigarettes ‘n he always flaunts it in Mikey’s face. So if it’s not bad enough that he’s a, you know, he, and my mom would already probably have a shock enough over that…”

“Oh,” Brendon said softly. “That’s shit then, I’m sorry.”

Frank shrugged. “It’s not like he likes me anyway, so whatever about it, okay? Can we just not today?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Brendon answered. “Well, fuck. Oh, are you going to the midnight showing of like… augh, what is it, the um, the uh…” he snapped his fingers, trying to jog his memory. “Fuck, baby, what’s that thing this Friday, the old movies or whatever?”

Ryan giggled. “It’s like a bunch of old horror movies, like Lugosi and Vincent Price and it’s gonna be so awesome!”

“Yeah, are you going to that?” Brendon asked. Frank shook his head.

“I dunno. I’m poor as shit, so probably not,” he sighed. “But it sounds super fun, so if you go tell me all about it, okay?”

“He’s not going,” Ryan whined. “I tried to bribe him with like, a lot of sex, but he’s stubborn, so… I’ll tell you about it!”

“Oh, thanks,” Frank said. “Yeah, if I go I’ll chill with you then, okay?”

“Yeah, totally!” Ryan grinned. Brendon pouted.

“Don’t be stealing my boyfriend now,” he whined. Frank laughed.

“Only cos you won’t go, pussy,” Ryan sighed.

“I’m not gonna steal him, Bren, you can trust me,” Frank giggled. “Plus, I might not go anyway. Do you know what movies are supposed to be playing, though?” he asked, turning to Ryan. “Maybe if I can pull the puppy dog eyes, my mom will let me go.”

“Oh, yeah!” Ryan exclaimed. “Yeah, I know Bela’s Dracula is playing, and I think House on Haunted Hill or The Fly, something like that.”

“Oh, sweet! Okay, now I have to go. I’m definitely putting my all into getting this,” Frank laughed.

“Fuck yeah!” Ryan giggled, holding up his hand and high-fiving Frank. “See you there, then.”

•••••

“Your pants should be illegal in all 50 states,” Gerard laughed, walking up and grabbing his younger brother around the waist, pulling him away from his fretting at the mirror. Mikey let out a squeak, pushing away from the older boy slightly.

“Get off, stop mussing me up, I’m going on a date today,” the younger hissed playfully, standing upright and exaggeratedly dusting himself off.

“Are you kidding?” Gerard grinned. “He finally asked you out? Mikes, that’s great!” the older Way exclaimed, moving to hug his brother.

“Hold on,” Mikey whined, holding up a hand to block Gerard. “Let’s get this straight, first. I asked him out, not the other way around. And,” the younger said, blushing lightly, “he accepted. So, yeah.”

“Ugh, I’m so proud I could die,” Gerard groaned, but a grin was quite obviously hidden in his words. “My baby brother is growing up and going on dates and asking people on dates, holy shit!”

“Stop being Mom, okay?” Mikey laughed.

“Well, she’s not here to be Mom, so I have to,” Gerard sighed, and he sat down on the edge of Mikey’s bed. “Speaking of Mom… she called last night, after you were asleep? She’s not getting back this Friday, she’s been held back another week up at the gallery…”

“Oh…” Mikey’s shoulders slumped, and he sat next to Gerard on the bed. “That’s okay, I guess… It’s not like I’m left with you all the time, you know.”

“Shut up, I’m not that bad,” Gerard laughed, and he wrapped one arm around his brother. Mikey looked down, and then up at the older boy.

“It’s easier for you, as of late?” Gerard nodded.

“Yeah, Frank’s pretty touchy-feely… I kinda had to get used to it.” Mikey snorted. “What?”

“He’s like that with you because he likes you,” Mikey said, “and it’s easier for you to deal with because you like him, too.”

“Yeah, about that…” and Gerard sighed. “I think I do, Mikes. I mean, I really think I do, but fuck, I’m an adult now, and he’s not even sixteen. Not to mention the whole deal over… well, never mind.”

“Are you seriously complaining about age, Gee? Have you not ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?”

“It was legal to be a creeper back then,” Gerard whined, falling back on the bed and dragging the younger boy with him.

“Whatever,” Mikey said, cuddling up to his older brother. “Don’t be a whiner, he likes you I can tell. I talk with him in History, and he talks about you like you’re a god, Gee.”

“He’s kinda perfect,” Gerard admitted. “I mean, besides the fact that he’s beautiful… he likes horror movies, and he listens to me rant and doesn’t interrupt like someone I know,” and Gerard pinched at Mikey’s side.

“Fuck off, okay?” the younger Way giggled. “It gets boring listening to you talk over and over about the same things over and over.”

“Anyway,” Gerard grunted, interrupting, “besides the fact that he listens, and he’s adorable… Well, you know when I liked Bert?”

Mikey nodded, and his fingers found Gerard’s wrist, where they softly brushed up and down against the angry scars. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I remember.”

“Well, whenever he would touch me, like give me a hug or high-five or whatnot, I would always get those dumb chills, you know, or butterflies or whatever… Stop laughing at me!” Gerard huffed. Mikey buried his face in his brother’s shoulder.

“Stop sounding like a little bitch,” he giggled, words muffled. Gerard sighed.

“Whatever. Anyway, it’s like that when Frank touches me, but a lot… more. Like, I hate it when people touch me, when people I don’t know get too close to me. But him? I don’t want him to stop, I mean–” The older boy stopped halfway, before adding, “You’re right, I do sound like a little bitch. So, I’m gonna shut up. Tell me about this date, eh? Where’re you guys going?”

“I’m talking him to the movies,” Mikey blushed, “and then we’re gonna go get coffee, and then we’re gonna come home and I’m gonna make him something to eat, like actual food…”

“Wow, he must really love you if he’s trusting you to cook for him,” Gerard laughed. “Remember when you put that fork in the toaster–”

“Don’t remind me!” Mikey cried, but Gerard was already off in his own world.

“…or the space heater/shower incident… Yeah, you’re a bit of a scatterbrain sometimes,” the older boy giggled.

Mikey pouted. “Don’t be a bitch,” he whined.

“Alright, fine. I’m done. But… ugh…”

“What?”

“I can’t stop thinking about him, Mikes. Help me; hit me on the head or something, please. It’s never gonna happen, I can’t start hoping it will.” Gerard sighed.

“Maybe you really will be like Romeo and Juliet then, having a secret relationship or something. That’d be cool, you know. ‘For never was there a tale of more woe than that of Gerard and his Frank Iero’”, Mikey laughed.

“Stop being a butt! Ugh, I just want to cuddle him forever, but I can’t. M life is so hard, why do I have to be so old, dammit!”

“Just thank me for meeting him in the first place, hey? Or not, maybe if I hadn’t met him you wouldn’t be suffering… Well, yeah you would. Okay, alright, admit that I’m awesome,” Mikey grinned.

“You are,” Gerard said. “It’s just… ugh.”

“Yeah, I know, Gee. It’s just… ugh. But hey, try and not be around when Pete’s here, kay? Like, you can be around, but don’t slump off everywhere like life is so hard.”

“Life is so hard!” the older boy whined. “But fine, Mikes. I’m not gonna ruin your big moment… aw, though, if you guys start getting serious, please at least do it at his house.”

“Yeah, well same goes to you and Frank,” the younger Way laughed.

“As if.”