Suffer All The Children

Contrary to Gerard's words, Mikey found his life at the new house to be much different than it was at the apartment. He wasn't around Gerard nearly as much as promised, and this brought about unexpected perks. He didn't have to make meals for people, at least not all the time, and he didn't have to do all the dishes and clean and do vacuum like he did when they lived there (though he was still in charge of keeping his and Gerard's rooms clean, not that he minded; it was much less work than he was used to, considering they were hardly in their rooms anyway). He got to watch a lot more television, and could choose what they watched sometimes (they didn't even mind when he wanted to watch cartoons sometimes, as long as it was something like Batman or something similar).
 
Frank liked both shows almost as much as Mikey did, or he might have just liked spending the time with Mikey watching them. Heeding Gerard's request to stay a bit further from him, Mikey could sit right next to Frank with nothing to worry about. With Gerard safely on the other side of the room, he could even let Frank slide his hand behind his back without being frightened. Gerard actually seemed to try not to focus on Mikey when he was around the others (most likely due to the jokes thrown their way about being so close). "Just in case” Gerard noticed however, Mikey tended to hide Frank's hand by leaning back against it, moving closer to cover up the gap between them—just to cover it up. The smile that crept his lips was most likely from his avid new interest in whatever they happened to be watching…

There was, however, a situation in the house that did bother him; he hadn't remembered the last time he slept alone for more than a few hours.
 
Of course Gerard's room was close, conjoined even, so it wasn't to say that his brother didn't have him almost every night. He stored restraints, lubricant, and duct tape in Mikey's drawers and closets. He'd forbidden Mikey, the first night they'd been in the new house, to make a noise when he had him unless instructed, but made sure to tightly gag him or tape his mouth closed when he had him before bed, which was almost every night. However, it was a lucky few times that Gerard fell asleep still inside of him. Mikey was lucky if his brother decided he was too tired to go back to his own bed. It was only rarely that Gerard would forget to lock the doors in his room to prevent Mikey from sneaking in and crawling under the covers with him and he was hardly ever fortunate enough to have Gerard invite him willingly into his bed; that usually only happened after he'd done something really good or after Gerard had hurt him, Mikey noticed, then made an effort to have each occurrence happen more often than usual.
 
In the first few weeks, Gerard sometimes had to pull out the little blue pills that he'd first used when just starting to take control of Mikey. The ones that made him sleep when he was struggling with him before, when he was less submissive, the ones that would loosen him up and let Gerard take him in any way he wanted when he struggled. Mikey only wished that they were used for the same purpose the second time around.

In the new house however, they weren't much used to give Gerard an edge over his brother. They were used when Mikey started crying in the middle of the night, scared to be left alone and needed calming. They were used when Mikey pleaded that Gerard let him come with him to the other room, just so that the older brother could sit on the younger's bed and pet his hair for a few moments, letting him curl against him as he drifted off so that Gerard could make a clean escape to his own room once his brother was out and not have to endure the sound of whimpering all night. Gerard also had his brother swallow them before sex sometimes, so that he didn't have to deal with his complaints on the bedding situation considering that the receiving end of the intimacy would be either too delirious to protest or if he was lucky, he would already be asleep by the time his brother pulled out of him.
 
Nearly every day for almost a month, Gerard would find Mikey curled up next to the door that connected to his room, asleep with his hand touching the door or his fingers under the cracks in it, clearly trying to enter through the lock. After a matter of days Mikey's side of it looked like an animal had been trapped behind it and had attempted, as Mikey had, to scratch his way through. However, the older of the Way's remained as callous as ever on this issue, and simply returned his brother to his bed each morning, letting him rest for a couple of hours before he used him again. However, he grew so sick of this process, that as they entered the fourth week of life at the new house, he simply started tying Mikey down at night, leaving on whatever gag he'd chosen that night in until he woke a few hours later to cause the tedious morning ritual of returning him there and the obnoxious late night whimpers to cease all together.
 
After a few nights of this, an exhausted Mikey having fallen asleep while watching cartoons with Frank, mumbled on about how he hated sleeping alone.

"I always was with Gerard, you know?" He let out a heavy sigh, pressing his face into Frank's outer thigh. The pair had been lucky enough to be at the house alone; the rest of their band at the jobs they hoped dearly to be able to drop soon. With this in mind, Frank sat upright on the couch, allowing Mikey to lay on his side, his scraggly, oddly hatless, head in Frank's lap, the latter running his fingers slowly up and down the boys back to comfort him, nodding a bit in response to the boy, urging him to go on, "It was like that for years… but he reckons I can deal by myself now, especially with the new house. I hate it. I'm not used to it… ugh… I think he's just creeped that you guys'll find it weird. It's so frustrating…"
 
Frank nodded, moving his hand up to pet the boy's hair, watching him with fascination as Mikey cuddled closer and closed his eyes, "Well you can't blame him…the situation is kind of odd, Mikes." He sighed and stroked his lover's patchy hair, running a finger gently over a fresh laceration, "But I don't think you should have to sleep alone in the first place… you're clearly still having fits… this hair of yours… if you could just grow it out it'd be the nicest color, but there's fresh patches missing almost constantly…it's a wonder you're not bald Mikes." Frank slid his hand back down to Mikey's back, stroking from his neck down his spine, causing the bassist's back to arch a bit in a cat-like manner. "My poor baby…" he cooed repeating the previous motion, "You don't have to sleep alone."
 
"Gerard said no."
 
Frank shook his head, his body relaxed, his voice calm and nonchalant, but a new sort of excitement running through his fingers, "Sleep in my room then."
 
"Frank you know he'd—"
 
"What?" he sighed, still petting calmly, "Give you a stern talking to and forbid you to do it? Tell me that I'm not allowed to be with you? Baby, he'll just have to get the fuck over it. It's not like he won't figure it out eventually. Anyway, I don't want you sleeping in his bed anyway," His hand scratched gently at Mikey's neck, his lips curled into a satisfied little smile as he watched his pet fondly, "you're mine."
 
Mikey sighed, and closed his eyes tighter. He didn't have the heart to tell Frank that he was wrong. Instead he pressed his lips to the boys thigh, smiled against his skin jeans, kissing after a second or two, "All yours. M… but Frank…" He sat up a bit, his eyes meeting Frank's timidly, and "You don't understand. He'll completely freak. He'll probably try to—"
 
"He's not going to hurt you, I can promise you that."
 
"How do you—?"
 
"’Cause I'll kick his ass if he tries. I can't tell you how sick of his bully shit I am. Here…" Mikey let his partner position his body so that this feet were on the opposite side of Frank's knees, his right shoulder touched Frank's left, and so it was comfortable for him to lay his head on the guitarists shoulder while the guitarist moved his right hand down to the bassists thigh, holding it in place while his left scaled his back again rubbing slowly, rhythmically to sooth him, "We all notice how he acts around you. It's just weird and none of us can just forget his shit at the bar after the show. He was pulling your hair for god's sake; you should have seen his face… I just don't see where he figures he has the right to all of this shit." He shook his head, annoyed, clearly disgusted at their front-man's behavior, "It's time for it to stop though. He's much too pompous for anyone's liking—strutting around like a damn king all the time."

Mikey just sighed, his eyes closed, his forehead pressing against Frank's shoulder. "That's just Gerard. You get used to it. It's not a big deal…"
 
"How is it not a big—"the shorter boy's head perked a bit. He pressed on the taller boy's back gently to keep him silent as he listened (it was amazing how Frank's much simpler tactics for quiet were just as efficient as Gerard's gags), then put a hand to his chin, kissing the boy's forehead for a few seconds before sighing, "I think someone's home. I'll go start on dinner. Tonight's my night to get it taken care of. You stay here?"
 
Mikey nodded and slid off of him slowly, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand and yawning before blinking up at Frank who chuckled and 'aw'ed, apparently finding his tired boyfriend to be as adorable as a child to a puppy, "Make me some coffee while you're in there please…" he sighed, smiling deliriously up at him.

"You got it. Black like always?"

The other shrugged and yawned again, laying flat on the couch, "Whatever you feel like giving me. Coffee's coffee."
 
"Ah… creative license… a bit unwise to give me, but you got it. Coming right up!"
 
With a last peck on the lips and a final scruff of the boy's hair Frank was off to the kitchen, and Mikey was off to his thoughts. He sighed deeply pulling his hat back on as he heard the noises of one of his band-mates coming from their car to the house. Perhaps if he was lucky, it would not be Gerard and he could have some time to think. He at least used his potentially last few seconds, to do so, closing his eyes, pressing his face into the sofa.
 
Frank could be an idiot, he thought, shaking his head slightly. It was stupid to even think of defying Gerard, especially on such a matter. He couldn't be sure what his brother would do to Frank considering that he wasn't obligated to follow his direction. Mikey, on the other hand, was his property. His to do whatever he wished with, and when he found out, he surely would not want to keep something that had been used by another man. He had no need for a disobedient slave and it was not wise to doubt the purging of such a wayward and useless thrall from his responsibility. It wasn't as if he'd been the most pleasing to him lately. And as Gerard constantly reminded him, he could very easily find a whore off the street who would be much less difficult to work with. It was unadvisable to put murder (or is the killing of a pet even justified as murder?) past Gerard when he'd come so close to killing him before, and from such a lesser offense. As much as he wished he could trust Frank, it seemed frivolous and utopian to do so. And unfortunately, Mikey wasn't as much of a child as he was when he had met the guitarist.
 
However, his lover had a point; it was three to one if Mikey stood up against Gerard. It was only recently that he'd even realized that the others cared for him. He had no idea why they did, but if what Frank said was true, it was hard to believe that they would stand around while Gerard tried anything. Perhaps when Gerard found what atrocities he'd committed, the others would offer him protection. Perhaps if Gerard did find no further use for his ward, he could seek shelter in the others. His life, he found, was no longer only controlled by what Gerard intended it to be controlled by. He was amazed at his ability to think things out and question his surroundings. He was intrigued by the fact that he knew how to function without his brother. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to be rid of him after all—what was the worst he could do now?
 
"Mikey?" his thoughts were interrupted by a concerned voice. The bassist blinked up to the drummer of the band, standing over him, his brow raised. He let his cheeks tinge pink a bit and let his hand unclench from his hair, only just realizing he'd been gripping it, suddenly aware that not everyone got so physically into their thoughts as he normally did.

Matt continued to watch him, his eyes scaling the boys face in an attempt to comprehend the situation, "Are you feeling alright, bud? You pretty sick…"
 
Mikey shook his head, exhaling and straightening up a bit, "Headache." He lied, glancing over to the kitchen.
 
"Oh, alright," he sat and let the other appraise him for a few moments, then once his story appeared to have been validated, he let his eyes settle on the television, keen to avoid eye contact for some reason, "You want me to get you something for it?" He heard the other say.
 
"No—do you know when Gerard'll be home though?"
 
He could feel Matt's gaze become more awkward on him as their conversation proceeded, but things like that hardly bothered him anymore, "Probably within the hour. I'd guess." So there was still some time to talk with Frank. "Why?"
 
He shook his head a bit, shrugging, and starred off in thought. "Just wondering. I think I'll get something for that headache now." He stood and flashed a small smile at Matt, then left for the kitchen, leaving him behind in a very confused wake.
__
 
Mikey stood in the archway to the kitchen for a moment or two, observing Frank bustling around the stovetop, all his pots and pans simmering and steaming. He felt odd, for a moment, as if experiencing déjà vu, remembering how it felt standing naked for Gerard's observation when he was to cook for him. He felt badly for thinking the thoughts, but couldn't help wishing slightly that Frank wore less clothing when he did so as well, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind to make room for other, less guilty thoughts.
 
He advanced quietly and moved himself behind Frank, reaching a hand out to feel down his side, pressing his lips to the top of his head, taking in his aroma contrastly to the food on the stove. The boy jumped a bit at first, but then his body became relaxed and he moved a hand over Mikey's, massaging it with his thumb slightly, pulling him closer. Mikey of course complied and pressed on, keeping his voice low, moving his lips close to the other's ear, "I don't reckon I'll be able to come straight off tonight," he whispered, his hand feeling for Frank's belt loop, "But if you wait up for me, I'll come in later in the night, maybe after everyone's sleeping?"
 
He let Frank position his arms around him, his long lanky arms fitting loosely around his middle, but tightened to pull him closer, Frank's head tilted up, and he kissed the bottom of Mikey's chin, his eyes closed. The bassist could feel him smile against his skin, "I'd love that." He breathed, turning his head and kissing Mikey's shoulder, peaceful and clearly past contentedly, leaning his bodyweight softly into his lover's. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to wake up with you next to me."
 
Mikey's chest sank a bit, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips into Frank's hair, feeling down him, his eyes starting to sting a bit. It felt different being with another person when Frank was so clearly completely his. He felt he should return the favor, but how could a possession give itself away to one who did not own him? They would have to be stolen or perhaps lost…

The boy nodded a little and smiled into Frank's scalp. He wondered if he could feel the tears that dropped onto his longish strands of smooth (he'd ditched the dreadlocks ages ago), brown hair, "I'll be right there then, promise."
 
Frank tugged on his arm a bit and he loosened his hold on him. The smaller boy turned to face him and pulled him back forward a bit by his shirt, away from the stove, pressing their lips together the entirety of the time. Mikey let himself be moved. The sort of control that Frank exhibited from time to time was gripping, sensual, almost like Gerard but in a completely different kind of wanting. It made his skin crawl excitedly and his breathes become notably sorter and more excited. It turned him the hell on, to be completely blunt. All he found himself unable to do anything but feel the length of the boy, attempting to hold back any grunts or groans he might have been urged to feel. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a door open and close, a voice greeting Matt. He only hoped that the fan over the stove blocked though noise from reaching the living room, but if it did, it hardly seemed to matter while more important matters were at hand.
 
He lifted Frank up and sat him on the counter, pressing him back feeling down his body in an amazing mix of ecstasy and unfounded fondness for the man. It was a want in the way that most would consider horny, however, it was something sacred for Mikey. It was the only way Mikey had learned to express ones extreme feelings for another person. When Gerard had him, Mikey served him, let him take him and use him at his whim. Gerard made Mikey feel useful and he (Mikey) was sure that he could be just as useful to Frank if implemented correctly. "You should take me to your room now instead," he breathed.

Expecting a thrilled reaction, Mikey was disappointed as Frank's body tensed. He pulled back, his brow furrowed, his blood still pounding. It was only after he observed the expression of shock on his lover's face that he heard the slow clapping from behind him, and felt his own body tense. He dare not turn around, but closed his eyes, his face burning, surely red. His stomach lurched uncomfortably at the sound of his brother's voice, "Oh, ho, ho, don't stop there. This was getting to be a good show."

His muscles twitched involuntarily as footsteps approached from behind, "Come on there, Frankie," he sneered perniciously and spat the name, using a gruff, dirty voice to speak his next few words. Mikey could hear slow clicks as Gerard turned the burners on the stove off one by one; a sure sign that they would be in the kitchen for a while. He always did like to play with his food. "Show Mikey you mean business. Wrap those stubby little legs around his body and pull him close to you, so he presses against those wonderfully tight pants of yours until you stick out into him. You know it was going there in any case. But tsk, tsk. You're not one for privacy, are you?"
 
Frank stayed silent toward Gerard, but he moved closer to Mikey, a hand gently coming to his face, his thumb wiping a fresh line of tears slowly from his cheek; it was only then that Mikey actually realized that he was crying. "Shh… Mikey," he sighed, petting the still hatless head of the bassist with one hand, using the other to rub down his arm slowly, "You're alright." He pulled the boy closer and comforted him, then moved his gaze to Gerard, most likely using everything he had to stay calm in his face, though Mikey could hear the loathing in his voice, "Just quit it, alright? You're making him cry. We can talk about this later."
 
But Frank was stupid to think that Gerard would bother for sympathy, as the front-man simply chuckled and moved forward more still, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulder, squeezing it sardonically, "Hey, he's right there, bro, cool it. It's all complimentary. I've always thought you'd make a great porn star, well, not star, as you'd be the bitch in the situation, but let's not get into that discussion, because you know I could go on for hours." He clapped a hand on his brother's back rather roughly then moved between the two, disgustingly amused at his discovery, "Oh god… but really Mike. This is just… wow." He sighed mordantly, a twisted grin on his lips. "I never knew… God, this is just… M! You know? Such a fucking tasty new development. I'd never pegged you to be a two timing cheating little whore."

"Don't you dare even—" Frank slid down from the counter, his voice a low growl.
 
"Oh, god… of course he wouldn't tell you, but just trust me on this one. You've found yourself a dirty little fuck right there." He paced a bit, prowling, stalking his prey unblinking as he let out slow, heavy breaths, preparing the attack, "I only wonder how long. I can only hope a while at the least, or that you planned on paying him considering how into it you two w—"
 
Mikey had to hold Frank's wrist to keep him from launching forward to his brother. He shook his head as Frank made an advance, tears spilling his face. "It's not worth it." He whispered.
 
He cringed as his brother clapped a hand on his shoulder, chuckling, "Well you always were smart, little bro, I'll give you that one. But, god, not even nearly smart enough… you have no idea…"
 
"You're seriously one fucked up dude, G."
 
"Frank, dear, you have no idea." He retorted.
 
His unusually upbeat temperament unnerved Mikey. His mind spun in too many directions to count. He grasped onto Frank tighter, hoping to relay his message without words that Gerard could contort then proceed to taunt him with. The rhythm guitarist moved his fingers to Mikey's and linked them with his. He moved his eyes up to the boys and nodded a few times, smiling only a very small amount to let him understand that his position toward him was no different, then narrowed his eyes in Gerard's direction, opening his mouth to speak briefly, but closing it soon after, apparently in the decision that whatever he had to say wasn't worth his time. He simply shook his head and moved forward; his hand clasped tight on Mikey's, "Let's go, Mike."

The boy stumbled a bit, his body shaking; he glanced at Gerard as Frank pulled impatiently on his hand. His brother watched, smiling maliciously, his brow raised slightly. When Mikey averted his gaze, he turned his attention on the other, prodding at this point, intent on as much aggravation as possible, "Mm, can I come too, Frankie? I won't touch; I just want to get my camera…"
 
"Mikey, now," growled Frank; the boy shivered and moved forward with him.

"Yessir." He whispered.
 
He glanced to Gerard, whose face dropped its amusement almost instantly, then focused on the floor, his tears having stopped, but the streaks from them still visible on his cheeks burned as he pressed forward with Frank, who pushed passed Ray and Matt who had apparently shown up in the doorway to find out what the commotion was and most definitely got more than either had expected from the looks of utter bewilderment on their faces. However, the three ignored them, Mikey wasn't even sure if he was allowed to look at them; he hadn't asked Frank.

"You're making a huge mistake, Mikey." Gerard stated, his hands clenched in fists near his sides, watching his brother ascend the steps with his newfound master. "You just wait until I can get my hands on you."
 
"He'll never fucking touch you," Frank hissed as they disappeared from view of the view of the others. He too seemed to have a habit of speaking to himself more than Mikey when angry, the boy noticed, "you're mine, you know that?" He stopped Mikey and pushed him violently against the wall, grasping onto the front of his shirt, his breathing enraged from the squabble downstairs, "You're mine." He repeated, "You understand that?"

Mikey nodded silently, he couldn't help several more tears from scaling his cheeks and swallowed back a whimper, repeating Frank's words to him, "Y-yours."
 
He let his guard drop a bit as Frank sighed, loosening his grip on the front of his shirt. His eyes were glossy, contrite as he looked up to Mikey's, and within seconds, he moved his hands from the boy's shirt to behind his back, pulling him close for a few seconds, rubbing his back soothingly, as if to make up for his outburst. “I’m sorry.” said Frank, his voice noticeably less malicious. "Let's go to my room then."

Mikey nodded silently and let Frank lead him; wondering how much different this would be than it was with his brother.