Suffer All The Children

Months had passed. Almost a half year since the first show; the first time Mikey had broken his brother’s rules; the first he had given Frank the green light to proceed with him.

To everyone’s pleasure, the band was doing well. It gained popularity, they played more shows. There was even talk about starting to record an album. However, the only thing that Mikey cared much about was that Gerard seemed pleased with his progress in the band and let him continue coming to practices. The fact that the band was thriving pleased him as well, just not in the way it did the others. The more fans they had, the more shows they seemed to be asked to do. The more shows they were asked to do, the more practice they would need, and the more time the group of them spent together. That meant much more than nameless faces cheering him on to Mikey. It meant friends and laughing and feeling important. For the first time in years it meant leaving the bedroom and being out in public. Most importantly, it meant he could be around Frank.

Things had more or less been at an incline Frankwise. They met at almost once a day, sometimes more, occasionally less, but each tried as best he could to find a reason to be alone with the other. Both being guitarists, it wasn’t hard. They required private sessions to practice. Frank could take him to buy picks, or get strings fixed, or to look for a better amp. The best part was that Gerard couldn’t tell them no, and he knew that he couldn’t tell them no, not in front of the others. Not without looking paranoid or like he cared too much. They had the perfect cover. It was so perfect, that Mikey hardly minded defying his brother.

Of course, the two wouldn’t really just practice or just go out to do something guitar related. They would make the most of the stolen minutes they had together. Sometimes it would be spent feeling each other or making love; kissing and feeling each other; the need to have the half of the equation so violently and so desperately that neither could do much to hold themselves back. Other more subtle, substantially more meaningful times were spent laying quiet, ones head on the others chest, the arm of the bottom wrapped around the man on top, a hand perhaps feeling down his back, or maybe brushing his hair back from his face; whatever the gesture, a gentle one.

They would talk sometimes, other times they would stay silent. Each time to Mikey felt as if he were possessed, another person left to take over his robotic life, someone who had things to say and thoughts to think. Someone who was still very introverted, but could have feelings to be introverted about, he was someone who had thoughts to choose to withhold or share. He was someone who was allowed to choose who he spoke to, choose what he enjoyed, choose what he said—these guilty pleasures made him cling to the time he had under Frank’s watch. It made him wish for things he would have never dared with for before Frank came along and most unfortunately, it made the few hours he had with Frank into minutes, the minutes into moments, the moments into seconds. If only it had gone so quickly when Gerard had tied him and bound him and he was kept still. Perhaps if he stopped moving with Frank, the time would tick by more slowly. He would have given anything to make it stop.

However, that was not to say that Mikey did not enjoy the time he still had with Gerard. He would never contest that he didn’t wish that Frank would bind him sometimes. Of course, he knew that Frank cared about him deeply, but it was hard to compare to Gerard’s absolute needing of him. It was hard to compare to the way that Gerard made it clear that he was very much his possession. He did enjoy being used. He did enjoy being wanted, and with his obligation to his brother, Mikey felt very wanted.

He would try not to whimper as Gerard’s nails tightened into the flesh that he’d previously staked very much as his own. He would groan freely against the skin on Frank’s neck as he gave a body that was not his to give to the boy who his brother had thought a friend. Each made his joints lock in ecstasy, his jaw clench and his skin crawl with pleasure. Each made him feel sexy, each made him feel wanted.

At the same time; he would let Frank feel down his side slowly, let his fingers treacherously enjoy being linked with the calloused ones of the guitarist, the latter hover his plump, dark lips softly, but gluttonously over the thinner, paler ones of his lover. He would lay as Gerard bound his wrists; he would attempt to cuddle backward as Gerard pressed down on top of him, the pressure making their bodies almost one. Each made him feel needed. Each made him feel beautiful; wanted; treasured; all in different ways.

The only problem was keeping the two separate from the other, his main concern; Gerard.
Mikey was very aware that he brother was not unintelligent. He knew himself to be rather logical at least; logical enough to assume that it was only a matter of time before Gerard figured out his dirty little secret. He only wondered what would happen when that day came. Would he hurt him and punish him, rip the hair from is body? Would he make him scream and writhe until he’d taught his lesson, then fix his younger brother up and hope he’d remember the punishment the next time he thought about doing something against Gerard’s will, or would this misdemeanor finally be the one to put him over the edge? His eyes sometimes slipped to Ray during practices wondering this. Wondering if he would be the end to it all, wondering if Gerard would learn about the snippets of odd moments that Ray had found the pair in, if he would break his vow not to tell. If he did, he surely wouldn’t mean it on purpose. Mikey knew that. He was aware that no one but he and his brother knew the possibly lethal actions that Mikey could potentially be taking. It was Mikey alone who knew what he what danger he was really in by doing as he wished. However, it was a secret that he knew he could not take to his grave.

The situation with Frank was much less harmful, admittedly, but a lot harder to convince and keep going than the perfect cover he had with his other relationship. It was, of course, impossible to let the other half of it in on the secret that he had kept between he and his brother for over a decade. Though more inexperienced and more awkward in normal life and relationships that most any person in existence, Mikey knew how things were normally supposed to work in a relationship.

Gerard let him watch TV sometimes and, on occasion, take him out to a movie before the band had started. Now more than before, he let him listen to the radio and hear songs about people caring about one another in ways that reminded him of Frank, but that were written from other people to other people. He heard the way that they pined and longed just to be near the other or hold the others hand. He observed the other couple’s behavior most ardently when it appeared in media. The way relationships appeared in media was the way his was with Frank. For some reason, it made his lips curl into a smile a bit to know that what he had with Frank was what other people had always wanted.

However, it also posed quite a few issues. The main being that Frank would be disgusted with him if he ever knew about The Way Brother’s secret. He would be hurt that Mikey was doing things with another person. He would hate Gerard for having Mikey, for hurting Mikey. No. It was best that Frank be kept ignorant about the whole thing. If he didn’t hate Mikey for taking part of it, he would surely attempt to cease the sexual side of the brothers at least. He couldn’t tell if it would be more horrifying loosing Gerard or loosing Frank and he had the potential to loose both if he was discovered by either. Again though, it proved more difficult in Frank’s case.

With Gerard, it was just sneaking off, averting his gaze under the protection of Frank. With Frank himself, it was hiding lacerations, explaining missing chunks from his hair. It was making excuses for his odd quirks, his nervous habits, the reasons he couldn’t come meet him at certain times. And most importantly, the reason he was so bound to Gerard, and the reason Gerard was so protective, so caring, so controlling and so brutal with his brother all at the same time. He also found it imperative to lie about why exactly the relationship that he and the rhythm guitarist were in had to be kept a secret.

As for the relationship; Gerard was homophobic, he explained. A catholic family brought up on a very strict interpretation of the bible (he’d seen protestors on the television once, when Gerard had left him alone and given him permission to watch it, in a movie about a boy who was beaten to death for being gay. Though he switched the channel out of fear, he found now that it was beneficial at least that he glimpsed it.)The brutality, control, and caring also went along with family, but in a much different significance. He painted the relationship between him and his brother as normal for two to have in those senses, there wasn’t much explanation to this, because he knew none, but Frank, being an only child, accepted this, and was in the clear.

He only wished that the contusions that he sustained from Gerard were as easy to explain. His story was anxiety and panic attacks. Extreme bi-polar tendency’s that caused him to over react to certain situations and feel certain emotions stronger than other people would. He explained that he had panic attacks, pulled out his own hair, gouged at his own skin, threw himself against things, into things—his keenness for medical television gave him all the information he needed to describe what he needed to. It was lucky that those programs, second to crime investigations (he was fascinated by cases of rape, kidnap and child molestation), were his favorite to watch. This also explained why he shared the same room as Gerard. Perhaps he should have been troubled by how easily these cover-ups came to him. He might have known all along that what Gerard did to him wasn’t normal.

Frank seemed to accept the stories easily enough. He seemed genuinely concerned for Mikey, surprisingly not as creeped out as the boy had expected over his phony explanations of psychotic behavior. If anything, he seemed more fond of him, more keen to hold him and protect him, he offered comfort if Mikey ever felt anxious; the poor, broken, misunderstood little Mikey—what an image to live up to; if only Frank had a true gist of how twisted the boy he was after really was, what he’d experienced throughout the years. Mikey never pretended to be a stupid person, there was a reason he enjoyed the programs he did on the TV: people are supposed to like things they can relate with.

After his fabricated rationalization on his behavior, Frank backed off with questions. Mikey could see him sought so badly to be let in further, he wanted in as far as he could get, to know everything. Mikey only wondered where this fascination founded from without feeding it. He cared too much about Frank to let him know the truth; he only wondered why Frank cared so much back. This kind of wanting felt more obligating than Gerard’s kind. He clung closer to Frank, enjoying the new sort or protection he offered while he had it. He let Gerard and Frank battle for possession without the consciousness of either, only Frank remained blissfully unaware of the consequences of his desire. Unfortunately, enough for all of them, there really could be only one winner of the bassist, who himself, let the battle rage on without interference, too frightened to contribute to either side.

Things were equal until around the end of the year when it was announced that they would start recording for a record. This change in pace gave a very large chance to the underdog in the battle. Mikey was silently elated.

It was on a Saturday that Mikey had gotten the news. He had remembered waking alone in his bedroom, Gerard in the living quarters, very passionate in conversation. Cold and uninterested, Mikey pulled the covers up over him, covering his ears snuggly with the blanket in an attempt to block out the noise. He still had a gag in his mouth still from the night previous and was tired as Gerard had kept him up late. He’d forgotten to feed him as well, Mikey had noted, squeezing his eyes as his stomach grumbled something fierce, and it seemed easier to sleep off the sensation. The drone of Gerard’s voice, sometimes angry, sometimes intrigued, and sometimes very contemplative came through the blanket however, no matter how tightly Mikey clasped it on his ears and he got no sleep.

Mikey was relieved when the phone call finally ended, but only for a moment. Several seconds after Gerard’s voice cut off in the other room, the bedroom door opened, and though his footsteps did not sound angry, there was really no predicting what Gerard might think of the position he found his brother in. The younger felt pressure on the blanket and released it, shivering as Gerard threw it to the floor.

"Sit up," he commanded; Mikey was always one to oblige. He made eye contact with Gerard as he was supposed to, pressing his back against the wall, "Did you hear that conversation?" The boy shook his head, too tired to speak, and not quite sure if he was allowed to. The gag also made it a bit difficult to voice anything, "Of course you didn’t, that would have been too convenient." Gerard’s mood was sour and Mikey was already sore, he paid close attention as not to be struck, "Come on then." He gestured for his brother to rise, and the boy complied, stopping in front of him for orders, "I want you to empty all the drawers," He instructed, "I’ll bring boxes for you. I want you to pack allll of this shit up, you got that?"

Mikey nodded slowly, his brow furrowed, he spoke through the gag out of pure curiosity, "Why do you—"

"I’m not in the fucking mood for twenty questions Mike. Pack the shit up. I’ll explain later if I feel like it."

"Yes sir. I’m sorry, sir." His voice was robotic, his body was robotic, waiting for Gerard’s programming. He only couldn’t help clenching his hand to his arm however in an attempt to produce heat; he’d been left naked from the night before, "Can I have some clothes, please?"

Gerard blinked, watching him; he didn’t look angry, but bored. He seemed to contemplate for bit, then shook his head, watching his brother, amused. "No. I think I like you better without clothes. " he continued to watch the boy, his eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger or spite, but thought, as he considered his next words, "I might like to watch now that I think about it. But god, that voice of yours…" He crossed his arms, watching his brother, apathetic to his shivering, but very much appraising of his body. His eyes scaled down it as he continued to consider his options.

After a minute or so, the man turned, leaving Mikey standing naked behind, confused, but obedient none the less. The boy watched him rummage a drawer as he had many a time, then pull a roll of duct tape from its depths. He was instructed to sit on the bed. Gerard put one of his hats on him and adjusted it, pulling it down to cover his hair (he’d told Mikey that he was attempting to grow it out), then wrapped the tape around his head several times, covering his mouth, "To keep you from talking," he explained.

Satisfied with his work, Gerard set Mikey to work packing, leaving only at the beginning to find boxes for him, then settled himself on the bed, sitting upright, watching with very founded interest, clearly pleased at the clothing choice he had made for his brother. He threw the roll of duct tape on the floor in fascination, watching his brother bend over to pick it up when instructed, then told him to hand it back to him, brushing his skin a bit as he did so, a rare, oddly fond grimace of a smile hidden somewhere in his twisted expression. "Mm… good boy."

He shooed his brother back to work, still watching intently, keen not to miss the show that he’d created, "So I suppose you’re wondering why you’re packing our things?" He observed Mikey nod a few times, his eyes still on his work. Pleased with this, Gerard laid on his side, in a more comfortable position, watching his brother work, "Ray called me this morning. He wants us to move in with him. He, Frank, and Matt are going in on a new house, but they can’t afford it. They reckon if we chipped in, everyone would be set. The rent there is a lot lower than what I pay here for us. He knows his shit, but still, I don’t think I’m quite ready to lose all this time I get to spend with you…"

Mikey listened, getting the impression that he was supposed to work at the same time, and did so. He didn’t find himself caring much about moving, more about if Gerard would feed him soon and if he would be allowed to sleep before practice that day. The rest meant nothing at the time being.

"But I think I have it figured out. Ray says two of the rooms are conjoined, we can have those," Mikey glanced over at Gerard, who seemed to understand this look as a question, "They’d find it too suspicious if we shared a room, Mike. Get back to packing." As the younger obeyed, the older continued, propping himself on his elbow, "Anyway, we’ll have conjoined rooms, but things are going to be a bit different. You won’t be spending as much time with me. They already think it’s odd. Ask if something’s wrong with you, so just mingle with them when we get there, avoid me so much, but I swear to god you better come when I call you."

He waited for Mikey to look at him and nod, then gestured him back to work, biting his lip before speaking again, "I think I’ll make sure there’re locks on our doors, and the duct tape works well to keep you quiet. No…" He sighed, contently, his eyes locked on his brother, amused, "It won’t be very much different from what we have here at all. You just wait and see." He seemed to be talking to himself more than Mikey at times… "You’re mine. As long as I have a say in this, you’re mine. Fuck if I’ll let a band take my things."

Mikey continued packing the bedroom for an hour or so. When he was finished with that, Gerard had him move to the living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen last. It was past four in the afternoon by the time Gerard finally fed him.

The boy ate gluttonously once the tape was removed from his lips, but almost wished it were back on, not to constrict him, but the small smile that had crept upon his lips. The thought had just occurred to him as he glanced back at of the boxes he’d spent the day packing; he would be living in the same house as Frank.