Suffer All The Children

Mikey gasped, gripping the sheet in his fingers, his breath already accelerated. His abdomen was under a very high pressure. He felt himself pressed into the sheets. For a fraction of a second, he wanted to moan 'Frank', but his vocal cords knew better..

"Ger-ard!" he gasped, clenching his teeth as a rough hand moved down to his waist. His brother responded in a gruff groan, then grasped Mikey's hair through his beanie and pressed his face into a pillow: he didn't want to hear him talk. So Mikey lay, his teeth gritted, trying not to make another noise as his brother used his body at will.

He had to have started while Mikey was sleeping at some point, probably at least a few minutes before he'd woken judging on how hard Gerard was. The sensation was routine by now. He was used to Gerard using his body whenever and however he needed it. Not that Mikey minded. He was very much in love with his brother, the way he felt him and wanted him made him feel special. He felt purposeful when Gerard touched him. He felt so safe with Gerard's weight over him.

The thoughts he'd been thinking before he fell asleep suddenly made him feel very guilty. Thinking back to a few hours previous with Frank seemed much more wrong now that he was under Gerard again. The details of being with Frank, however, seemed hazy to him. The ecstasy he felt being able to pleasure Gerard again was the only real thing now. He seemed a different person with Frank, like he'd slipped out of his own self and had been taken over by a stranger who didn't have someone like Gerard to take care of them. One who wasn't already owned and disciplined not to leave.

It was best to forget the feelings, he was sure, because though Frank was surely nice for whoever possessed his body a few hours ago, but now that he was back, he was fully aware that he belonged to Gerard.

"Mph—Gerard…" he couldn't help but groan as his brother pulled out. He gasped a bit as Gerard's fingers down his side; he could feel him still hovering over him; so warm and safe… But soon the warmth was gone. He felt Gerard leave his side and he could hear footsteps on the carpet.

"We've got practice at eight." Gerard's voice was flat, indifferent, it was only then that he wondered whether Frank had already left or not. He spoke so soft and he was warm even when they weren't having sex. Mikey sighed, but stayed in his spot on the bed, unsure if he was supposed to get up. He heard Gerard zipping something, most likely a garment, "We're going out for lunch I guess. We don't have any food and someone made a fuck of a mess in the kitchen." He heard Gerard run a brush through his hair but wished dearly that he'd come back and just lay with him. "Go take a shower. I don't want to take you anywhere looking like that."

"Yessir."

Mikey sat on the bed, watching his brother who was fixing himself in the mirror. His eyes flicked back to the reflection of the bed, Mikey watched as he bit his lip while he appraised his body. He noticed then that his shirt had been taken off at some point in the night as well. He stood, his cheeks slightly pink, and moved toward the door. His ass stung as he passed Gerard, who made a blatant grunt of consent then moved his eyes to the mirror, applying a bit of eyeliner now- a staple look of his that had started when the band had. He stopped as Mikey reached for the doorknob though and whistled for his attention.

"Hey, cover it up, babe." He pulled a drawer open and threw a pair of boxers to his brother, then went back to his makeup and explained as Mikey pulled them on. "That Frank kid's passed out in the extra room. Don't need him sneaking a peak if he wakes up."

Mikey's stomach gave a violent jolt. Perhaps he could grab a quick word—He shook his head and sighed, his eyes missing Gerard's pair. "No. We wouldn't want that." His heart sank at the sincerity in his own voice.

Everything had run as smoothly as it could have in Mikey's opinion. His shower was short, but it gave him time to shake off any stray thoughts he dared come up with on his own before he went back to his and Gerard's bedroom. It was empty as he entered, but he found a selection of clothes waiting on the bed for him. He started to pull them on, glad for the warmth of them.

"Done?"

Mikey nodded as he finished buttoning his shirt, then looked to his brother. "Yes. Are we leaving now?"

"Soon." Gerard gestured for him to sit back on the bed. "Wait here 'til I come back to get you."

"Yes, sir." He followed the instructions that Gerard gave him, as he always tried to do.

"And put your hat on, you look like you're molting."

Gerard closed the door behind him as Mikey reached for the beanie that his brother had chosen for him. He pulled it on carelessly and yawned, curling up on the bed. If he'd only been allowed to sleep a bit longer…

"So, I'll see you tonight then?" He caught Frank's voice from the sitting room on the other side of the door.

"We do have practice." Mikey wondered if Frank could hear the hate in Gerard's voice. He could just picture his brother's face as Frank lingered, unwanted at the door.

"Where did we end up deciding to have it?"

Frank surely already knew…

"It's always at Rays."

"Oh," Frank should have sounded scared, but he simply chortled. Mikey was sure he smiled as he continued to delay. "Oh, yeah, that's right." He let out a bit of a sigh of content before he finally seemed to find it time to go. "Well I'll see you then. Tell Mikey good job last night for me." The corners of the said boy's lips curled a bit. He could feel his cheeks gain a bit of heat. "Bummer he's not feeling well. Make sure he rests up so I can see both of you later." Frank's smile transmitted through his voice at his last words, he probably waved to Gerard before stepping out. It was almost funny how his "bye." was abruptly cut off by the slamming of the door.

Gerard looked very irritable when he came back, however, after pulling Mikey to his feet by the skin on the back of his neck, Gerard was very humane. He didn't even pull anything out when he fixed his hat.

"Come on." He snapped his fingers for Mikey to follow him as he headed again for the door. "Let's go then."

Mikey seemed to be in a lull for the rest of the day. Lunch with Gerard was pleasing. He was allowed to sit close to him. He even put his arm around him at one point. Later, he had Mikey carry his bags back to the car once he was done picking out his next few outfits for their performances.

When they got home, Gerard pronounced himself tired. He sent Mikey to the kitchen to clean up the mess that (he had no idea) was made on him the previous night, telling him that he was welcome to join him when the mess was clean as long as he woke him around seven thirty.

As he cleaned the floor, he couldn't seem to wipe an oddly vacant smile from his face, maybe because he was only half on the task. His mind was much more content picturing the band practice that was practically minutes away. He let the memories of what had happened after the mess that he was cleaning was made flood over him for the first time that day. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. It really wasn't as bad as he'd made it out to be earlier that day, in fact, he found that he could identify the knot that had formed in his stomach while thinking of Frank to be a very good thing. His mind absorbed him so fully in reliving the experience, that he hadn't noticed Gerard in the door opposite him, holding a pair of his brother's jeans, giving Mikey a very curious look.

"I found something interesting." the younger brother blinked his eyes open, staring placidly up at the eldest. He eyed the jeans, the smile slipping from his lips. "If I'm not mistaken," he stepped a few steps closer to Mikey, then crouched down in front of him, holding the jeans in front of his face. His eyes narrowed and his tone gained a bit of a chill to it, "these are yours. I don't think I've ever been mistaken?"

Mikey blinked. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, so he remained silent. Gerard dropped the pants and brought his hand sharp across his brother's cheek, growling the slightest bit. Mikey blinked again, this new knot in his stomach seemed to drain his emotion.
"I asked you a question."

"No …" Mikey kept eye contact (he knew better than to break it), but would have given anything to sink into the floor and get as far away from his brother as possible. In involuntary shiver pulsed through his arm, but he wasn't stupid enough to let himself start shaking.

"You know they reek like vodka."

"D-do they?"

Gerard's eyes were very narrow. His arm seemed to twitch as he held it from striking. "I could have sworn," he breathed, "that I told you not to drink last night."

Mikey nodded, not daring to argue, especially on a fact. "I didn't—"

He was cut off by an eerie smirk from Gerard: he would have preferred him to hit him again. "If you wanted to drink, all you had to do was ask."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh Mikey…" Gerard chuckled then stood and extended a hand to his younger brother, who took it cautiously, his body trembling a bit, "not nearly as sorry as you're going to be."

Once to his feet, Mikey was pushed into a chair. A hard look from Gerard told him that he was to remain there and Mikey was in no position to object. His eyes were downcast, but flicked to the refrigerator as it opened. He watched Gerard extract a beer then pull the tab open. He was amazed to see that Gerard didn't take a sip, but instead, passed the can to him, raising his eyebrows. "Well?" He surveyed the trembling can, then Mikey's lips, shrugging a bit, "drink up."

The boy nodded meekly and took a mouthful, swallowing through the lump that had built in his throat. One foreign to the situation might have thought it stupid of him, but Mikey knew better. He'd been in the same place for a large piece of his life: he knew the game by now.

Gerard didn't want him dead, so he couldn't have poisoned the drink. He would cause him pain, but never enough to be lethal. He never lead him close to death and he only hurt him to teach him a lesson. Gerard loved him too much to let him get hurt badly. Mikey was sure that the punishments would cease anyway; as soon as he stopped giving them reason to happen.

The boy trembled as he brought the can down from his lips. The taste wasn't bad, but wasn't the most enjoyable either. He didn't prefer it.

"The whole thing," pressed Gerard. Mikey nodded and watched him turn and open the freezer. As Mikey took another sip of the beer, Gerard took the bottle that Frank had taken from out previously and unscrewed it. When Mikey's beer was empty, he handed it to him, nodding the same way as he had when he gave him the previous beverage. "That too. I don't care if it stings."

"Mph—" Mikey choked as he took down the first swig of it, but kept up on his intake. Tears were pooling in his eyes but, still, he continued to drink. Gerard supervised him until the bottle was done, then handed him a bottle of amber liquid and turned, rummaging the drawers for something.

Mikey drank without questioning; he didn't understand how people enjoyed it however, because the sensation made him gag, though a few swigs into the amber liquid made him unsure whether he could suppress the urge to vomit. Luckily, in little time, Gerard had found what he was looking for in the drawer and pulled the half-emptied bottle from his brother's lips. "Still want to drink?"

Mikey shook his head. Several fat tears scaled his cheeks, he was sure that he would never drink again if he could help it. "No more…"

"That's what I thought." The older Way smirked rather nastily and picked up the item he'd gotten from the drawer; duct tape. He pulled the tab at the end out and placed the tape over his brother's mouth, pressing it tight to hold it in place, then tucked his hair back into his beanie and pulled the tape along so that it wrapped around the back of his head. Mikey sat as he wrapped it around a few more times, feeling very dizzy.

"I'm sorry I have to do this, Mikes, but I don't need someone who won't listen…" he turned again to rummage through a drawer, this time, however, he was much faster. Mikey's eyes widened as he removed a small handgun from its depths. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest his brother moved closer. He wouldn't kill him… he loved him. But Gerard pressed the barrel of the gun to the side of his temple. His fingers felt down his chest, rubbing over the skin that concealed Mikey’s rapidly beating heart. "Oooh…" there was an evil humor in his voice as he chortled, his lips hovering right next to the fabric concealing Mikey's ear, "you are scared, aren't you?"

Mikey whimpered, starting to hyperventilate, "Mm-hm." He nodded, sobbing, he felt cold metal leave his skin, he flinched at an odd click as Gerard pulled out the cartridge; it was empty.

"I wouldn't kill you." he chuckled. His fingernails scratched breifly at the skin on Mikey's neck, highly amused. "Just had to get that pretty little heart of yours pumping." He pressed on Mikey's chest again to feel his pounding heart. "And damn if it didn't do the trick…"

He felt extremely nauseous as Gerard pulled him into a standing position and about ten times more lightheaded while his body was still trembling something terrible. He stumbled behind his brother, his eyes drooping sleepily. He hoped he'd take him to bed and take off his clothes, but instead, he felt Gerard wrap a cord around his wrists, constricting them behind his back. He felt so warm and sick.

He tried to suppress his gag reflex as Gerard led him down the hallway, a bright light made him almost double over; sick. He squeezed his eyes closed, but found this to be a mistake as this caused him to fall forward onto a hard surface. He lay panting on the bathroom floor, finally unable to hold his gag reflex as Gerard kicked him hard in the stomach. Warm liquid stung his esophagus as it traveled into his mouth. He felt trickles of it ooze from the corners of the duct tape but was forced to swallow most of the vomit, considering it had nowhere to go.

"Mph, not a happy drunk." sighed Gerard as he stepped over his brother's body. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "And right before practice… I'll have to tell them you're sick." He aimed another kick into Mikey's abdomen, causing him to shutter, again unable to hold back from vomiting. Gerard narrowed his eyes and watched him, shaking his head. "Next time you drink," he stated, almost tiredly, "I'll sew your fucking mouth shut."

Gerard slammed the door and Mikey heard it lock from the outside. "I'll be back in a few hours. I might let you up before the morning."

A few seconds later, the main door to the apartment slammed and Gerard was gone. Mikey convulsed on the floor, his face tear-stained and red; he would be sure to listen to his brother in the future.