Hey guys:) So guessed who dediced to start another thing?;) Updates for this will be as and when I feel like it, and judging by this 12,000 word mammoth, quite a bit longer than usual. Now, I've said that, the next chapter will be like 12 words long:') So it'll be hella rad if you read this, y'know;)

"You have to go out sometimes, Mikey." My brother, Gerard's, voice penetrated my eardrums, in an ear splittingly whiny tone, for what felt like the seven hundredth time in the past few minutes, and was now getting more irritating than painful. Gerard seemed to be good at 'irritating'; I'd noticed that a lot lately.

Gerard was a twenty five year old who still lived in his mother’s basement, surviving solely off of coffee, ramen and excessive amounts of nicotine. His room (the basement) was awfully dark, and I think he certainly exploited the fact that the basement didn’t have windows, but the absence of any light wasn’t the first thing that struck you once you set foot down there, it was the horribly pungent smell of hair dye. Gerard dyed his hair more than an aging woman that wanted to prolong her greys a few years; he’d just changed his mop of black hair into a short, bleached blonde. It made him look a little less like a vampire, and therefore prevented little children being just a little scared of him when mum forced him to go out, which probably was just about worth the extensive costs of excessive amounts of hair dye.

"I know, I’m just far too content inside right now." I tried to block out his horribly persistent begs for me to go pick up yet another bloody comic for him. If the guy had such strong feelings towards leaving the house, then I don't see why he shouldn't be more than motivated to go and fetch it for himself. A general lack of motivation towards everything and anything was one of Gerard's irreplaceable traits that I'd learned to cope and put up with over the last two decades.

He'd ordered this limited edition signed copy of a comic with a name far too ambiguous for me to even contemplate remembering, a few days ago now, and after receiving an email from the local comic book store about its arrival, he'd pinned the responsibility of collecting the goddamn thing upon me. I was not happy about this.

Gerard was unnecessarily obsessed with comics for a man who’d be alive for a quarter of a century. In fact, he was more like a twelve year old boy, and I think the only thing that’s changed in the last thirteen years of his life is his voice breaking and growing a few inches. On the inside, he’s practically the same old Gerard, which seven year old me spent most of his time being generally pissed off with.

"You literally haven't left this room for two weeks now. That's fourteen days, three hundred and thirty six hours, twenty thousand-" I had to stop him soon, because knowing Gerard; he would most certainly go on until he ran out of measurements of time to use. This was one of his most annoying qualities, and believe me, there was rather a lot of competition.

"Yeah, I get the idea." I turned the page of the book I was supposed to be reading, and not doing very well at doing so, for my English course. I was going to fail without the grade that the comprehension on this book constituted the majority of, or I knew that I was going to get kicked out of college; my professor had been very insistent on intimidating us all with the far too frequent and horribly violent reminders of that fact.

Also there was the fact that she didn't particularly get along with me; let's say, I maybe have accidentally set fire to the lecture hall once... Yeah, I'm not leaving matches in my pocket ever again, or going to lectures when I'm about as awake as a corpse. Neither of those are particularly good ideas, neither was taking a subject I have very little interest in, but at least it makes mum happy to know that at least one of her sons won’t be living in her basement forever.

I’m not exactly too sure as to why I decided upon taking English in the first place, but it was probably the only subject I was vaguely competent at and there was probably a lot of persuasion on my mother’s part. An English degree was a little eccentric, but overall rather respectful, more respectful than an apparent degree in laziness. Gerard never bothered to go to college; in fact, he’d spent the majority of his college fund on comic books. This was another thing mum wasn’t awfully pleased about, yet she didn’t quite have the heart to kick him out of the basement. It was exactly as if he was disturbing anyone; you could rather easily forget he was even there, in fact, and when mum nagged him about whatever he was going to do with his life, and that it still wasn’t too late to fill in an application form for whatever place would possibly contemplate taking him, he simply brushed everything off with the answer that he was going to be a comic book artist.

Truthfully, neither me or mum knew if there was any hope in this aspiration or whether Gerard was just convincing her to let him live off her wages and caffeine supply for as long as he could manage to, as Gerard was rather secretive about his art pieces, and was reluctant to let anyone see them.

"See, I'm clever, because I leave the house, and learn things. Learning is important, Mikey!" He had that weird preachy voice going on again, and the words sounded quite frankly rather ridiculous coming from the mouth of someone, who until very recently wouldn't leave the basement for months on end.

What he spent days down in that dark basement doing, I didn't particularly want to know, but I'd once found his sketchbook and it reminded me more so of a visual interpretation of Fifty Shades of Grey, than a sophisticated art journal, and I simply daren’t to wonder what his comic books were like, or even about for that matter.

 Not that sophistication was ever one of Gerard's strong points, or subtly for that matter; I remember once when he was twelve and he did an English project on how serial killers and their pent up emotions and generally incapability to live peacefully among society just after his teacher's husband had been murdered. That really didn't go down well, as you could pretty easily guess, and this was presumably why Gerard currently wasn’t the one studying relentlessly for an English degree.

"And in what way are you aiding my education by interrupting me and preventing me from reading this book that literally is my entire grade for this semester?" I narrowed my eyes at him from behind my white framed glasses, he, of course, really didn't seem fazed at all, and more so was intrigued with peering at the book title and of course pulling a disgusted face when he recognised it to be Pride and Prejudice.

He had brewed a certain hatred for classics over the years and came to utterly despise them in the recent past. I think this was mainly the aforementioned English teacher’s fault; she’d taken a liking to classics and Gerard had pretty much taken a major dislike to everything she condoned after she put him in an after school detention for the aforementioned, and rather questionable in morals, essay.

"Ah! Study is greatly improved by breaks of fresh air, see, I'm doing you a favour, really." I rolled my eyes at him and closed the book, putting it down on the desk and glaring up at him, attempting to convey my frustration onto someone like Gerard, who quite frankly, couldn't care less. Gerard was really not about carefully planned study, and more about cramming everything he could onto the palm of his hand the morning of the exam and barely passing via the means of barely legal methods. Conventional was really not one of Gerard's strengths.

"No. You want me to do you a favour, by getting that comic book that you're far too lazy to pick up yourself." Gerard was a ridiculously lazy excuse for a brother, but at least he wasn't the preachy sports type, urging me into actually doing something physically productive in him, because Gerard would rather leave the house without eyeliner on than go to the gym, and for a boy that lives his life as some kind of cosmetic raccoon, that's a rather disturbing matter.

I was sort of glad that Gerard was lazy, because I was lazy too - I just don't think he's quite figured that out yet, well maybe it's just the fact that my laziness was nothing in comparison to his sloth like lifestyle. This lifestyle was certainly going to kill him before he hit thirty, but despise mum's constant reminders of this, he didn't seem all that fussed, but then again, that was Gerard. Maybe mum was just a little bit glad with the fact that she may only have to put up with her adult son residing in her basement for the next five years, or was that just a little bit too morbid?

"Mikes..." He groaned like a small and argumentative child, batting his eyelashes in a horribly feminine manner. "It's limited edition." I knew how Gerard felt about his comics, but I was not getting up and sacrificing my grade for his inability to gather up the motivation to do a menial task like this. "It’s limited edition!" He stressed for the final time, trying to get those two little and generally meaningless words into my head.

I did appreciate how much this meant to him, I just don't think my professor did. Much like she didn't appreciate the mini fire hazard I'd accidentally caused for her several months ago. She freaked out to the extreme, though - I'm beginning to think she has some sort of irrational fear of fire, a phobia of sorts. But the only way to cure phobias is exposure to the thing someone is scared of, and therefore, I was in fact doing her a favour. A favour in paperwork and damage fines, however? I couldn't quite justify that one. I think maybe she despised paperwork just as much as she despised me.

"Then how about you get your limited edition diva legs-" He gasped at me, mocking my words, and doing a diva spin. He looked ridiculously queer and it was rather entertaining to say the least. Seriously, Gerard would make a prettier girl than the majority of the female population and that's something I'm not entirely comfortable accepting. "And, how about you go and fetch the goddamn thing yourself!"

"Yeah, but I don't need practice-" Oh god, practice. That was actually rather ridiculous, and I was beginning to get rather intrigued as to what he'd come up with next, but then again, part of me was rather concerned, in fact. Gerard’s lifestyle and moral values were generally rather concerning, despite how much Gerard seemed to claim that he was, in fact, at the peak of sanity.

"What the actual fuck?" I could have easily beheaded Gerard years ago if he wasn't so goddamn irreplaceable, especially when it comes to lying and getting me out of uncomfortable situations. He was a useful asset, a poor excuse for a son, a terrible friend, but a more than adequate older brother, quite possibly even a good one, but only on good days. Today was not a good day.

"Watch your language, Mikey." As if he didn't regularly drop the 'f bomb' within conversation, even when small children were in earshot, and even when mum regularly scolded him for it. Gerard just generally didn't care; I guess being in your twenties diminishes a lot of the control your parents have over you, but then again there is the concern that Gerard is still living with us and has no concern with moving out or anything along those lines. I know I was still here too, but I was planning to get out of here as soon as we'd paid off the majority of these goddamn student loans, and mum was more than complacent with the fact that my prospects stretched further than a darkened basement, several metric tonnes of paper, and marker pens in every colour under the sun.

"I'm twenty." I responded with a stern glare, as if he needed reminding, though. However, no matter how many times I did remind him, he never seemed to stop babying me around, but then again, I guess that was the big brother thing. He'd never lost those memories of when I was in 8th grade and getting picked on by these kids relentlessly, and I wished I could never forget the look on their faces as my five foot seven, 12th grade brother came in and made sure they left me alone for the rest of their days; which, he did, in fact, do a rather successful job of.

"I'm twenty five." Gerard smirked at me, waggling his eyebrows wildly and in a somewhat concerning manner. He loved being the oldest, and certainly loved using it to his advantage in any and all situations, and I was very sure he'd be using the older brother ploy within the next few minutes as one final attempt of bullying me into going and getting that comic.

And after that was unsuccessful, he'd end up resorting to pushing me out a window and locking me out until I came back with his goddamn comic. If I had any friends, I could have very easily crashed with them, but the only person I exchanged conversation with on a somewhat regular basis, who didn't live under the same roof as me, was Gerard's 'incredibly close friend', Frank. I was more than certain that the two of them were very much in love and just failed to see it. You never know maybe I'll just push the two of their lips together the next time Frank comes around. I’d be doing both of them a favour, really.

"Yes, I'm well aware, thank you." He rolled his eyes at me; sarcasm was his strong point and he did not like it when I ‘robbed it from him’. I didn't often, because when we got into a sarcasm match he'd would metaphorically massacre me into a mess of self-conscious, blood, guts, insecurities, and of course a pair of white framed glasses. This was not one of his ‘adequate older brother’ features, and more of his ‘terrible friend’ ones.

"Regardless, I've left the house every day for the past week-" Oh, god he was droning on again. This had proven to be his biggest achievement within the past week, and part of me was at least glad I was regularly getting a few peaceful hours to myself every day, because with the amount of course work that was being piled on us now, I more than damn well needed it. Gerard wasn't exactly the best person at ridding you from distraction, seeing as he took it upon himself to regularly harass you as and when he felt like it.

"Yes, to visit your boyfriend, I know." I rolled my eyes tirelessly at him, and he gave me a playful shove on the arm. He was adamant that Frank and himself were nothing more than very good friends who just flirted relentlessly with one another as a sign of friendly affection and that their prolonged and far too romantic hugs meant nothing more than a sign of friendship, and those many moments when I caught one of them eye-fucking the other was nothing more than a coincidence, obviously.

And that the poem I found that Gerard had written about the boy with the 'scorpion tattoo' was of course not about Frank, despite the perfect description of him. How Gerard had managed to deny that one I didn't know, I think he was just glad he'd managed to burn it before I could manage to show it to Frank. Not that I would be such a douchebag- okay, maybe I was planning to, but in the end, Frank never did see it, so it’s practically the same outcome.

"Frank is not my boyfriend!" Not yet, he isn't. I was still working on that one. Sometimes I liked to help myself deal with my utter lack of a love life by constantly intruding upon Gerard's, and acting as a matchmaker between him as his pathetic excuse for a 'best friend'.

It was clear they had a crush on one another from the first time Gerard invited Frank over and they just stood in the hallway for a good few minutes, admiring one another, or as Gerard would put it 'the hallway'. Why someone who had lived here for a quarter of a century, needed to spend several prolonged minutes admiring his own hallway, I hadn't a clue.

"Yeah, for sure he isn’t. I've seen the way you look at each other." I winked suggestively at him, and later smirking at the blush forming upon his cheeks. "Or the way you admire the hallway-" He flushed a horribly shade of red, and I instantly knew I'd caught him out, and was now promptly awaiting the string of insults that'd soon follow, because when it was Gerard, they always did.

"Fuck off, oh my god!" My brother had now become a human tomato and I wasn't going to lie about the fact that it was ridiculously amusing and there was nothing that was going to stop me from chuckling at this one. "Shut up-"

"I'm not saying anything, Gee." I reminded him- well, now I was, but I doubted that either me or Gerard were as annoying as to point something as irritating as that out. Or at least I hoped so, but with Gerard you could hardly tell.

"You were laughing." He pouted at me ridiculously, which of course, only made me chuckle more, this all being much to his displeasure. He mimicked some sort of ridiculously disappointed meerkat, and it was quite simply just ridiculously amusing to witness.

"We do not 'look' at each other." He did little air quotes whilst saying the word 'look', which simply signified that he meant the term 'eye-fuck' by that, because seriously I swear he spent most of the time that Frank was here, undressing him with his eyes, as he fantasised about doing so in the real world no doubt.

They made an odd couple, but a good one, because I don't think there was anyone that could put up with Gerard just as well as Frank did, and I think that's love - the ability to see through all faults and see a person for the real beauty they have inside- but what would I know? I'm Mikey Way, the grand twenty year old virgin and general klutz when it came to anything vaguely romantic. Not that I exactly wanted that as my tagline, even if it was painstakingly truthful.

"Yeah, you do. I've seen you, and there's also the fact that you're always over at his place, in his bedroom, perhaps?" Gerard defiantly shook his head, but despite how much he did so, it could never affect just how right I was. "Do you spend that time in his bedroom also under his sheets, perhaps?" I wondered if they'd had sex before, and then promptly stopped myself as I came to the realisation as to what a weird fact that was, especially to think about someone as generally disgusting as my big brother who made a habit of not washing for days on end - again, a trait born out of laziness.

"Shut up." He was blushing again; it was ridiculously easy to see just how he felt about Frank. Frank was just quite obviously special to Gerard - anyone could see that. I mean, Frank was even openly gay; this ship had practically sailed already. Gerard just had to grow the balls to tell him how he felt, or if he spent too long doing so, then maybe someone would just have to do it for him, and maybe that someone would just have to be me.

"You two are meant for one another, plain and simple." The two of them just clicked: Frank shared Gerard's love of comics and obscure bands combined, and if that isn't true love then I just don't get the point of the concept at all.

"You're wrong, plain and simple." No, he was wrong, plain and simple, or maybe just blind. Blind to Frank's constant eye-fucking, and I swear I saw some movement down below when he stayed for dinner once, and I think maybe he rushed off so quickly afterwards because of that problem, and not because his mum had texted him. I bet his mum hadn't even texted him at all, perhaps his mum doesn’t even have a mobile; I may have to investigate further.

"I know you at least have a crush on him." I glared menacingly at him, and his cheeks tinged pink slightly - I knew it! "You do! C'mon admit it!" This was like finding a needle in a haystack, and soon enough I'd find myself burning the hay just to find out that he fucking goddamn would admit this massive, overgrown, complicated mess of a crush on Frank that had manifested in that godforsaken head of his for god knows how long.

"If I admit, that maybe I do, in fact, maybe, have the tiniest," he gestured with his fingers, "little, tiny, tiny crush on him, will you go and get that comic book?" He pleaded. Ha, tiny! If the Eiffel Tower is what is considered tiny, then go ahead. This crush was massive and more like a smash than a crush, and I could tell that even now it was tearing away at and crushing his insides.

"If you admit that you're in love with him." He inhaled sharply, clearly in neck snapping territory with me. "Which is the truth, by the way; you do love him." He just glared at me, an empty look in his eyes that screamed that maybe, just maybe he was contemplating it. If he did I think I may just explode, and then may if he did accept it, Operation ‘Get Him To Tell Frank’ could begin, or if that wasn't as fruitful as I would hope then maybe I'd have to just accidentally let something slip in front of Frank, or would that be too harsh? If it’s for Gerard’s own good, then maybe, I could just allow myself to accidentally let a little something slip.

"Fine, I’ll do it." Fucking hell, was he actually going to? Oh wait, that comic was at stake, so maybe he actually would. Then, of course, when he did, there was of course the actual process of retrieving the goddamn thing, but my coursework could wait if Gerard was making this much progress when it came to his feelings towards Frank. What has happened to my priorities, seriously?

"Go on, then." I said into the far too complacent silence, watching with far too much amusement as Gerard looked rather flustered under my gaze. This all was amusing me far too much more than it should be.

"I'm in love with him." He snapped at me, blushing wildly because it was so painfully true. I felt like cheering or even throwing a fucking party - I was stupidly proud of him. But, wait - I could torture him more; oh god, I was a terrible person, but I could make him say the full thing, and that would just be the best thing ever.

"Wait, who? Who, Gerard, who are you in love with?" I was most certainly teasing him now, but enjoying it nonetheless. He was going to kill me for this, and I was more than certain of that fact, but right now, I really couldn't care less.

"Frank." He mumbled a series of vulgar curses under his breath, which did nothing but make me grin with amusement, yet he still hadn't said it all in one go, and therefore I wasn't quite satisfied enough to go out and fetch the goddamn thing for him.

"Say the full thing." He glared at me so furiously, I swear he'd storm out and simply go and get the comic himself by now, which would allow me to get on with my coursework and he'd said the majority of it, so therefore it was a win-win situation for me, and I could tell that he very much did not like that at all.

"I'm in love with Frank." I chuckled, smirking wildly. He'd actually said it, this was perfect, and now I could get him to finally admit it to that guy- Jesus, I sounded like some sort of ridiculous fan girl, but I hardly cared. "Now go and get me my fucking comic!" Ah, shit, yeah. I actually had to do that. Oh well, it was worth it, I guess.

"Language-" Okay, maybe he wasn't in the mood for my ridiculously poor attempts at humour; I didn’t exactly blame him.

"Don't even start!" Yeah, my suspicions had been pretty much confirmed, and I decided it best just to oblige and get out of the house before Gerard could inflict any form of revenge upon me.

"Alright - I'm going!" I cried, grabbing a jacket from the side of my bed and hurrying out of the room as fast as I could, and hopefully before Gerard spontaneously combusted all over me, which wouldn't exactly be pleasant, but considering his facial expression, it seemed more than plausible at this very minute in time, which of course, made it all the more essential to get out.

-

'Curse Gerard and his fucking comics.' I thought as I dragged my waterlogged body through the rain, hail and whatever else the heavens could conjure up to pelt onto me already weak body. I'd have to throw a whole swimming-pool's worth of water over Gerard to compromise for making me go out in what was turning out to be Jersey's worst rainstorm in at least the past five years.

I regretted even bothering to straighten my, now dark with water, brown hair this morning, as it had now expelled all the artificial heat I'd insisted on destroying it with prior, and embracing the hundreds of water droplets that were free to land upon it without the protection of a hood, hat, umbrella or anything of the sort, and it had now rebelliously insisted upon frizzing out in an awkwardly comical manner. Let’s say, I was not a fan of the mad clown look.

Thankfully, however, it seems the remainder of the population of Jersey had been more than aware of the rainstorm I was now fully exposed to, and had opted for the intelligent option of spending today inside, which I too would be, if Gerard hadn't so gloriously intervened, regardless of that, I was just generally thankful that no one was around to see my atrocious and waterlogged state.

My clothes were drenched and the cotton of my black t-shirt insisted upon clinging to my icy cold skin like some sort of dysfunctional wetsuit. Then there was the issue that my tightest pair of jeans, which for god knows what reason, I had decided to put on this morning, would simply not slide off my legs no matter how hard I tried, and I'd probably have to get Gerard to cut them off or something with those fabric scissors he owned for a reason I didn't dare to dig into (which would be a terrible shame as these were my favourite and only decent pair of jeans).

I was more than glad when the sign for the comic shop came into view, despite the fact it was painfully badly spelt and was written out with little regard for grammatical conduct by someone who had barely even sat through one English class, and as an English student, my professor's grammar Nazi tendencies had begun to unwantedly rub off on me.

It was the only shop still open on the row of streets, the other shopkeepers clearly deciding that the rainstorm everyone in the world seemed to know about besides me, would keep all the customers at bay, however thankfully the comic book shop hadn't taken the same decision. I think it was the fact that Gerard's comic arrived today, and that Gerard was practically their only customer.

As I finally reached the shop door, I gave it a strong tug before it finally pushed open and the warm air from inside the shop hit me like a brick to the face, but it was a good brick, a welcome brick. And then the sickening smell of glossed paper hit me, and I decided that maybe this brick wasn't quite that welcome after all, but after taking just one glance back outside, I pushed myself inside and promptly shut the door behind me.

I leaned against the shop door, panting heavily, and more than relived to have finally escaped the buckets full of rain I'd ended up near enough sprinting through in order to escape. Quite frankly, I was beginning to suspect that Gerard had simply just checked the weather forecast; something I'd been too busy studying to do.

And now, my glasses were steamed up and my hair ruined, not to mention the fact that I was drenched and in a state comparable to a stray dog. Not the best of looks, to be honest, not that I was entirely all that fussed right now, and was more concerned with finding the radiator in this place and setting up camp next to it. Not that the shopkeeper would undoubtedly be extremely happy with that plan of action.

"You should've brought an umbrella."

A horribly cocky voice called from behind the counter, and I soon found myself eye to eye with a guy of about five foot seven, with a honey complexion and dark brown hair styled into a fringe that was growing out just a little too long so that it hung untidily over his eyes, covering patches of his thick, dark brows that were raised as he surveyed my drenched state. His eyes were rimmed with a thin line of black eyeliner, and his arms were littered with far too many tattoos for me not to question as how he'd actually managed to get employed, but then I figured that a place as small as this is probably more liberal and relaxed when it comes to things like that.

"Well, it's a bit late for that now, isn't it?" I borderline snapped at him, blushing as I realised I'd been a little too harsh and I really didn't want to get kicked out and back into the thunder storm for staff harassment. Thankfully, he just chuckled and climbed over the counter, walking over to me and dragging me back over to the other end of the shop with him. What-

"What- what are you doing?" I started struggling under his strong grip, his fingers clamped down up the shoulders of my soaking jacket. Was he kidnapping me or something? Nah, that'd be ridiculously, and regardless, he didn't quite look like the type. Yet, neither did Ted Bundy- no, he was smiling at me; I doubted he was going to do anything like that-

"Dude, chill; it’s fine." He let go of his grip and I leaned back shyly against the counter. "I'm just getting you a towel. I don't want you dripping all over the displays over there you see." He pointed to where I had been standing previously, and suddenly I felt entirely less threatened, and maybe just a little bit guilty as my eyes flickered over the puddle of water that was slowly being absorbed by the carpet.

"Oh." He seemed content with my response and with the fact he hadn't entirely startled me, and proceed to go back over the counter and into the store room in the back. I spent the next minute or so, letting my eyes flicker around the comic posters that lined the walls as I tried all too much as not to excessively drip all over his shop and more importantly any stock that looked vaguely important or expensive. Thankfully, he soon returned with a towel, which he did a terrific job at hitting me in the face with, which I didn't exactly appreciate.

"Ouch!" I let out a rather expressionless grumble, and he simply chuckled, far too amused by my situation and perched himself upon the end of the counter as I dried myself off the best I could, whilst trying and failing, to hide my blushing state as he practically watched me dry myself. I threw the towel back to him after a minute and he grinned at me, before hastily throwing it back in the storeroom.

I assumed he was the only person who'd bothered to show up to work today as he wasn't exactly being all that abiding towards the rule of keeping the place tidy and seemed to be rather lax about standards, judging by the complete lack of uniform, unless this place decided that a black skeleton printed t-shirt and jeans similarly tight to mine were uniform.

He perched himself on the edge of the counter I was leaning against and grinned at me, "I'm Pete, if you were wondering the name of the guy who just hit you in the face with a towel." Thank you, yes I was. Would you mind giving me your last name too so I could sue you for that? I smirked to myself, deciding that maybe saying something like that to someone I'd just met wasn't exactly the best course of action.

I chuckled slightly, and came to the conclusion that maybe this guy, that maybe Pete was okay. "I'm Mikey." I paused. "In case you were wondering the name of the guy you just hit in the face with a towel." He laughed, and looked around the comic shop for a few moments. "Did you actually come in here for something or were you just sheltering from the rain? I mean I'm supposed to kick you out if you aren't actually intending to buy anything, but you're an alright guy, and I'm in dire need of company, so you never know; I might not." He definitely seemed to be okay.

I just laughed. "Are you the only person who turned up to work today?" I grinned at him and he blushed a little in embarrassment, which led me to assume that it was probably the case.

"Yeah, forgot to check the weather today - I was running late and all, fuck's sake..." He inhaled deeply, his eyes wandering around the room in a stressful manner and he looked like he was craving something; possibly a smoke. A just kind of hoped he didn't smoke - I was already bound to get lung cancer with the amount of passive smoking Gerard had inflicted upon me, and I didn't exactly want my chances doubling.

"That makes two of us!" I exclaimed, laughing a little sadistically, he met my gaze and the corners of his lips turned up into a small smile. "And then my brother took advantage of my forgetful stupidity and convinced me to go outside." He chuckled at that, seemingly far too amused by my misfortune. "Hey! Don't laugh." That didn't stop him, of course.

"Yeah, brothers are like that." He paused for a moment, "haven't got one myself, but I have friends." Okay, at least he wasn't a hermit. We'd ruled out psychopath, kidnapper and hermit by now, so unless he was else equally dodgy this guy seemed to be okay.

I don't. I wanted to say, but I doubted it'd bode well. "Yeah, I figured." He chuckled a little, his eyes drifting out towards the windows and his gaze fixating upon the torrential rainfall attacking Jersey today. I regretted ever being born in a town so fucking freezing as this one. "Look at this rain, Jesus Christ!"

I inhaled slowly, reminding myself of the inevitable fact that I'd have to make my way home through that, and whatever else nature would pull out of its sleeves as the day went on. "I know." I watched as the hail hit the windows like tiny little white cannonballs; it was pretty from in here, but once I was out there again, I'm sure I'd be cursing everything under the sun- oh wait, the irony. "I have to walk home again through that." I gestured towards the windows.

"Dude, just stay here - I'm lonely as balls." He suggested, a little too seriously. He was alright and seemed to generate a fairly decent conversation, but I'd only just met the guy and I'd rather be back home with Gerard's bloody comic as fast as I could so I could finally continue with my course work and possibly consider passing this semester – something that wasn’t quite as high on my list of priorities as it should be.

"Nah, you're good. I'm here to collect something." I rummaged in my pocket and handed him the slip of paper that Gerard had written the rather specific name of the comic he wanted on. He looked a little disappointed that he'd have to camp out this rainstorm in the shop alone, but it sure beat battling through the watery hell outside.

He squinted slightly as he read it. "Ah. Yeah, I’ll go grab it - one sec." He ran back into the storage and returned a few minutes later with a comic wrapped securely in a plastic bag. "Here you go." He handed it to me, and I couldn't help peeking inside and admiring the limited edition stickers that Gerard had been fussing over excessively for what felt like forever. Admittedly, they were awfully shiny, but I guessed that wasn't exactly what Gerard was so excited over, or maybe it was, and he really was still just twelve.

"Is it for your girlfriend? Or boyfriend maybe, you can swing that way; it's fine. I mean, I do-" I just laughed; the fact that he considered that anyone would be romantically inclined towards someone like me, especially in my current waterlogged state. Maybe I should lend him my glasses? I hadn't dated anyone in forever, and I hadn't dated anyone seriously, ever.

It was kind of okay when Gerard was equally as romantically unsuccessful as I was, and we could joke about it and make fun of rom-coms and chick flicks and explode into hysterical fits of laughter when mum told us that the right girl would be waiting for us, we just had to find her. Admittedly, I was partly laughing because Gerard was quite blatantly gay, but neither of them needed to know that. But now, Gerard had Frank who was just as in love with him as he was, and I would never quite bring myself to formally admit it, but maybe I was just feeling a little left out.

"Nah, it's for my brother." He grinned at me, seemingly a little satisfied with my answer for god knows what reason; maybe he'd made a bet with himself or something equally crazy like that. "I'm not quite that kind of guy." I'd decided that that was a better way to convey my eternally single status rather than proclaiming my suppressed feelings of being forever alone, especially to someone who look as casually uninterested as him.

"What for dating?" He raised one thick eyebrow, a look in his eyes that said he was thinking something over which both concerned and intrigued me at the same time. "Or for inces-" I interrupted him with my laughter - if he'd even considered that, he was probably just a little tipsy, but I doubted that a shop like this would have an alcohol supply to rival a local pub, but you never know. This guy seemed pretty odd, after all, so you never know.

"Yeah, I just think girls are really too much fuss, man. I just want to sit in my room all day and watch Breaking Bad, to be honest. I'm far too busy to with coursework to by worrying about dates and gifts and all that shit they seem to need on a daily basis to be complacent with being committed to you. It's just ridiculous." Okay, I really didn't have much of clue as to what the hell I was talking about but he seemed to be agreeing with me, so everything seemed to be going okay.

"Know what you mean, bro." His face lit up in a way that concerned me just a little, "you should try dudes. I, in fact, know several guys that are more than happy to suck you off during an episode of Breaking Bad. I, myself, am far too addicted to that show and wouldn't be able to focus, therefore doing a poor job." Oh my god was he even joking or not? I hoped he was, but he looked hella serious and I just stood there silently blushing a far too much, before I managed to form a somewhat coherent response.

"Honestly I've never had my dick sucked before so even if you did a shitty job I wouldn't be able to tell." That was most certainly one of the weirdest sentences I've ever said, but I think Pete may be one of the weirdest people I've ever met, so it kind of fits, I guess. I mean, there are not many people who find amusement in so casually involving blowjobs in their first conversation with you, but it's a new experience I guess.

He chuckled in a playfully amused manner, "you want your first time to be good though; the last thing you want to do is regret it- wait are you?" His features pulled into a devious smirk, as if he'd realised something incredibly intriguing yet disastrous at the exact same time and was making no hesitance in letting in plague his mind as he explored the concept, “are you considering my offer?" 

Fuck! That hadn't be what he was considering or thinking- because, fuck! I most certainly was not considering his offer, not that I didn't like him, he was just not the gender I tend to go for, and there was the fact that we only just met and he could have a shit ton of STDs for all I knew- not that I was saying he did, it's just a hypothesis-

"Shut up. I am not at all considering your offer..." He looked a little like a disappointed puppy, and I was a little startled as I began to realise that maybe he wasn't joking as much as I thought he was, but I just wasn't that kind of person and he wasn't going to guilt trip me into anything. "I- I don't like guys." I stuttered out, and I think this was most definitely the first time I'd felt embarrassed and almost guilty for not being gay. Pete was really quite an odd person, but I think that's quite what made him Pete, along with the rest of his co-workers abandoning him today. Or is that a little too harsh?

"You've never been with one, so really you don't know, do you?" He winked at me, and I couldn't deny that he was quite attractive when he did that, and I was now more than aware that he was charming me until I obliged, but I really wasn't going to let him. "Mikey, everyone's gay until proven otherwise."

"I'm not quite sure that's quite right..." Pete's logic was more than a little biased, and I'm not sure if it even constituted as logic in any form of context, if there even was any, which I highly doubted, and I was only beginning to suspect that he'd downed a can of beer or two before I'd arrived.

"You're wrong. Everyone's gay until proven straight." He met me with a stern gaze, and I still didn't budge my harsh and skeptical expression, "okay, you don't believe me." I nodded, at least wasn't going sugar coat things enough to ignore that. "Let me elaborate. Gok Wan, he's gay, and he found that out by sucking a dick so he's not straight, but if let's say that... I don't know... Obama, was to like get it on with Mitt Romney or something like-"

"What are you smoking dude?" Pete was definitely not as sane as I'd first figured, but it didn't look like he was going to let me leave without explaining this whole batshit crazy theory to me, not that I particularly wanted to be exposed to whatever kind of messed up logic was governing Pete's head right now.

He simply shushed me and continued 'elaborating', "and then he decided that he liked that then he's proved that he's gay, but until he's done that he's undecided." Pete's insights were certainly 'interesting' to say the least, if not more than just a little concerning.

"Dude, I'm pretty sure he proved he was straight when he got married, to his wife." Pete just appeared awfully disappointed and resorted to tutting at me, almost as if I'd spoiled his whole 'conspiracy' or whatever the bloody fuck this was. "And I'm not married, but I'm pretty sure, I'm straight."

"How can you be sure?" He winked at me, and I groaned as my cheeks flushed a stupid shade of red. Pete just didn't get it; I mean what was so special about my dick that made him wanting to suck it so much - I quite frankly hadn't a clue. Maybe I should ask him, or would that just be a little too indirect.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure - I mean I'm looking at you and my dick's perfectly fine-" Oh, maybe that was a bad example; giving him an ego boost wasn't exactly the best of ideas, I figured, seeing as what I've already heard pass him lips really wasn't exactly A* when it came to modesty and sophistication and his lack of it.

"So you're implying I'm attractive?" He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I turned a horrible shade of red, I was just hoping he wouldn't pick up on that, but of course, he fucking had to. My luck would just have it, and he wouldn't let me wriggle my way out of this one, not now, not at all, not ever. I'd just have to be eternally ridiculed before I could escape into the now rather pleasant looking hail and never have to face a dude as crazy as Pete again.

"I-I, uhh shut up!" He was attractive, but in no way was I going to allow his ego to take that power up, but it was rather clear that his ego was getting in the way of him believing a single world that left my mouth from now on, no matter how much truth it held or didn't. "I don't-" Every word that left my lips just shattered like a sheet of glass into a million asymmetrical shards of syllables no longer coherent and long forgotten.

"Whatever, dude." Thankfully he disregarded my general incompetence when it came to partaking in conversation, then he paused for a moment. "You mentioned a brother?" Oh my god; it took all I had not to burst out laughing - Pete was just a walking cliché, far too good to be true, and far too bad to be good for me. But there was no way Gerard would date Pete, even if he wasn't so utterly pre-occupied with Frank, Pete just quite clearly wasn't his type of guy. It'd end very messily and with an unexpected trip to the hospital that no one would be too keen about.

"I'm afraid he's already far too preoccupied, I'm sorry. He does swing your way though, so maybe if things don't work out with him and Frank, even though I doubt they won't, maybe-" I wondered if I should even mention Frank to Pete at all, but seeing as he didn't know the guy, it couldn't do that much harm, unless he was planning on murdering us all or something equally concerning like that, but I think we just about ruled that one out already.

"Nah, he doesn't sound like my type, commitment and all." I raised my eyebrows at him. Pete really was awfully confusing and not the kind of guy I'd imagine spending any amount of time with, let alone spend time talking to in a shop - I just didn't do casual conversation, especially not with people like Pete, but I think maybe the atrocious weather was a changing factor here, or maybe it was the glossy paper smell that had drugged me as soon as I set foot in this goddamn shop- No, I was most definitely overreacting right now, but of course, that didn't exactly stop the thoughts of exaggeration from dancing round my head like some kind of deranged monkey circus.

"You're basically a man whore then?" He burst into laughter, and I was just glad I hadn't been impolite, but I think our previous conversation on the subject of blowjobs had pretty much ruled out Pete having any grasp upon the concept of impolite at all.

"There are nicer ways to put it, but really, I just haven't found the right guy yet." He paused, his tongue running over his bottom lip in a poorly seductive manner. "And this is precisely why you should take up my offer, because really, you just haven't found the right guy yet either." And now within one slightly disturbing conversation he'd decided that we were meant for each other. Okay then; I just accepted it, because really this was far from the weird thing that's left Pete's mouth so far.

"I've got far too much studying to be doing to even consider being sucked off, not even by Pete the man whore." He smirked at me, apparently approving of his new title, and I was wondering if he'd end up getting a name badge saying that or something equally preposterous yet somehow perfectly normal for someone like him.

I thought man whore was a pretty weird term, but I guess Pete was a pretty weird person, so it just sort of fit, like pieces in a puzzle, or a dick in his mouth, apparently. I heard that people who brag about sex don't get that much of it, so maybe Pete was just deprived and horribly hormonal, which would maybe excuse some of his behaviour, but in no way all of it.

"You're not very nice to me, Mikey the cock block." I blushed at that, of course. Cock block: yet again, what an odd term, coming from the mouth of an odd person. Puzzle pieces; everything just seemed to fit today. I don't know what it was, maybe God was apologising for the terrible weather, or maybe karma was feeling sorry for me for once. Or Pete could just be pulling some weird, creepy and voodoo cupid shit between us. As you may have guessed, I wasn't exactly keen on the latter option.

"I'm going to get kicked out of college if I fail, so seriously-" I kept reminding myself of this fact constantly today, and I think maybe it was beginning to take a toll on my sanity, as the time ticked on and the pressure built up, along with the amount of pages I had to push on through. I didn't quite fancy getting kicked out, and I doubted that mum would be awfully pleased with me and would probably disown me and I'd have to live as some sort of weird hermit in the basement after Gerard moved permanently into Frank's bedroom.

"What are you studying?" He was awfully persistent, wasn't he? I was horribly desperate to leave, but every so often, my gaze caught sight of the generally worsening conditions outside and my subconscious decided it better to put up with the clusterfuck that was Pete for a minute longer. Which in afterthought, always turned out to be the worst decision.

"English." I answered, thoughts of all my many unread pages of Pride and Prejudice running through my head and I squirmed slightly, as I remember just how unpleasant it would be get through this, especially if Gerard insisted on inviting Frank over and insisted on banging him a story below where I was studying, right where I could hear most of the action; which was quite frankly, disgusting, because no one wants to hear their older brother have sex, not one at all. Not even perverts. Not that I've ever met one, so I wouldn't exactly know- oh wait, Pete. Pete pretty much classed as a pervert, at least by my standards. I’m glad that he doesn’t have any siblings – for their sake.

"I'm good at English, great in fact." Of course he wasn't - he hadn't even spelt 'rentals' correctly on the sign outside. I remembered my little grammar Nazi fit from earlier, before I pushed the door open and allowed myself the wonderful pleasure of meeting the absolute joy that is Pete.

"Sure you are." I nodded sarcastically and he just laughed. "There's an 'A' in rentals, by the way." I let slip, and he grinned instantly, thankfully getting what I was referencing and therefore not making me look like an absolute idiot. Looking like an absolute idiot was one of my many talents, as you may have managed to guess by now.

"Yeah, I know." He smirked at me, his teeth flashing through his stretched lips. "James wrote the sign. He's dyslexic and he was so proud of the thing, none of us had the heart to tell him. We're just so proud of his progress, like wow." Yeah, for sure; Pete's not a murderer or a hermit, but he most certainly is a liar.

"That's a horribly elaborate lie." I wasn't even discreet about it, but he was hardly discreet about lying and therefore he practically earned it. Not that it'd offended him exactly, seeing as this 'James' was about as real as the tooth fairy- oh wait, he was probably going claim that he was in fact the tooth fairy herself within the next few seconds, just wait for it.

"Yeah, I don't even know anyone called James, to be honest." I just rolled my eyes at him: great lying skills, there. "So I therefore formally apologise to all James' I may have offended." At least he's moderately polite when he wants to be (polite in an unconventional manner). Unconventionality seemed to surround me wherever I looked in my life. Perhaps, I just led an unconventional life.

"I've got to get back now; Gerard will have not be pleased if his limited edition comic and all that shit doesn't return promptly." Pete grinned at me, a little disheartened by my pleading to escape, but he knew I did actually have to get back, or at least I hoped so. And there also was the issue of Gerard not being pleased with my awfully late return, but it should serve him right: the weather isn't exactly holiday resort worthy.

"Yeah, you've got that studying to do and lonely Breaking Bad episodes to watch, alone." I rolled my eyes at him. He was not going to suck me off, not today, not tomorrow, not next week, not ever. And I hoped this disappointed him. Pete was a man whore though, this probably didn't faze him entirely at all, and he'd just pull the same thing with the next guy would walked in the shop. I mean, I wasn't even decent looking; I was just the only guy he'd seen today that wasn't like sixty nine years old.

"Gerard watches them with me." I ignored his suggestive eyebrow wiggles, this guy just knew no boundaries did he? It was just ridiculous, yet intriguing, because I'd never met and fortunately never would meet anyone quite like Pete, ever again. "Gerard is my brother." He pulled out his mouth into an extended smile that screamed, 'oops', but he probably didn't mean to apologise that much entirely.

"Gerard Way?" I nodded, slightly confused. Had he been stalking me or something equally as concerning like that? Could he possibly already know everything there was to know about me and was just luring me into some sort of weird kidnap, murder, hermit, liar plot- No, I was too damn paranoid, but with reason, because- no. I was paranoid and that was that. Pete was just an ordinary guy that just wanted to suck me off a little too much for me not to be concerned.

"Yeah, I have a friend who knows him - Ray Toro: guitar hero, king of the 'fro." He strung off a series of titles that sounded like Guitar Hero made some sort of hair cutting expansion or something ridiculous like that. Thinking about that, it would be awfully odd, wouldn't it? Albeit amusing to play. And Gerard would hate it, because Frank would always be better than him at him. Frank's just fucking Jesus when it comes to shit like that, well guitar Jesus, as I doubted the King of the Jews had an awful lot of time for things like that.

"You sure this Ray isn't the right guy for you?" I winked at him, anything to keep him away from my dick really, but if he knew Gerard then I'm sure Gerard would do a pretty good job at cock-blocking for him, though he'd probably fall for Frank and Gerard would end up ripping his face from his skull or something like that, and then they'd realise their true love for one another and have a silver screen worthy kiss... whilst Gerard is stilling clutching Pete's now detached face, and Pete's faceless body is spurting blood at an alarming rate out of shot, yet everyone's too infatuated with Frank and Gerard's kiss to even consider get Pete any medical attention.

"Very sure; haven't talked to him in a while, though." Ooh, sexual tension is very apparent there, then. Jesus fucking Christ- I sounded like some sort of voodoo cupid today. Never mind whatever the hell was going on up in there crazy head of Pete's. Not that I particularly wanted to know, not for my sanity's sake anyway.

"So you're someone who knows someone who knows someone I once knew, and you want to suck me off?" He nodded, as if this was the normal, which it quite possibly was for him, I just didn't want to dwell on that for awfully long. "That's ridiculous." He probably thought I was ridiculous, but at least I wouldn't be contracting thousands of diseases. Now it sounded like I bitching about him or some shit, which I wasn't, I was just expressing my very strong feelings about not wanting to suck him off, that he just didn't quite seem to comprehend.

"Whatever." I began to walk towards the door, waiting for the moment that I'd never have to see Pete ever again, but then again, the thought of him knowing Gerard would probably diminish my chances of ever being free of the guy and his insanity and his Breaking Bad dick sucking fantasies that I'd rather he'd keep to himself, but that didn't realistically look like it was ever happening.

"Hey!" He grabbed me and pulled me back, pushing a piece of paper into my pocket. "You aren't leaving without my number." Oh god, at least I didn't actually have to call him. He had no way of ensuring that I did. Did he? Dear god if this was some elaborate planned hatched with Gerard to embarrass me into stopping going on about Gerard's horribly apparent love for Frank, I would kill a bitch. Gerard qualified as a bitch, didn't he? I think there was something about killing your brother that was very morally wrong, but there was also something very morally wrong when it came to Pete and therefore I think if I just pointed karma in his direction, it'd soon forget all about me.

I rolled my eyes, as eager as one could be to step out into the worst rainstorm ever, "and why would I need to call you?" I'd actually like to see how he could possibly manage to justify this without including anything along the lines of his Breaking Bad fantasies that I really never wanted to hear about ever again.

"I am good at English you know." I remained skeptical, for shit he was. He's good at English and I'm going to pass this course- oh how ironically, that the two of those seem to coincide rather perfectly. Goddamn puzzle pieces, again. Like seriously this voodoo cupid shit that was being pulled was starting to concern me rather than annoy me by now. "I'd let you read my poetry if you weren't so harsh to me." Fucking hell, there's poetry. I wondered if it was comparable to Gerard's 'Ode to Frank', which of course, most obviously was not at all in anyway what so ever about him. In fact, it was probably about the hallway, you know.

"Oh there's poetry?" I raised one eyebrow, more than a little intrigued by this little piece of information, because maybe I was just more than a little curious to read some of Pete's poetry, maybe just to see what it was like: 'Ode to Sucking a Dick', perhaps? Or was that maybe just a little tiny bit too indiscreet? This was Pete, so it wasn't, not at all.

"Yes, yes there is, and maybe if you text me, I'll let you read some." God, he was good. So maybe I was now slightly inclined to text him, but I didn't think I wanted to be bombarded by Pete's texts about subjects I'd rather not hear about at random intervals.

Maybe I'd have to use someone else's phone. Gerard's perhaps? Nah, if Pete knew Gerard then he'd quite possibly already have his number saved and Gerard would see it and would blame me instantly. Maybe I'd use Frank's. Frank would suspect Gerard at first, surely. It was probably morally wrong to do something like that, but I think maybe morals had taken a day off, along with the rest of Jersey.

"Whatever, I'm going now." I turned the door, my hand on the handle, eager to leave, yet the hail still loomed outside, haunting me almost, but I couldn't spend another moment in this fucking shop with goddamn Pete.

"Please just text me, alright?" Maybe I would, but not necessarily from my phone. I was cleverer than that, of course. The poetry was something I was awfully interested in reading, though. I shouldn't be so intrigued goddamn.

"Maybe; I’ll think about it." I called as left the shop and shivered into my jacket as I sprinted through the rain, until my lungs felt like they were about to jump straight out of my chest. But I think maybe dying of a lack of oxygen was overall more pleasant than dying of hypothermia, but who knows. I didn't have much experience with either deaths, or death overall, basically.

I spent far too much of my unpleasant journey home thinking about Pete for my sanity's liking, but he was just so odd, and different, and unique, it was just like there was something about him that wouldn't ever quite leave me alone, and I just hoped that wasn't the obsessively stalkerish qualities he seemed to possess.

Maybe things would end up with Pete being my friend, wouldn't that just be... odd? Puzzle pieces, huh?

-

"You're late." Were the first words that met my ears as I slammed the door closed, shivering as I took in the central heating that Gerard had completely disregarded turning up to an unhypothermic temperature. Apparently Gerard wasn't very grateful of my treacherous trek through the harsh and soaking conditions for his bloody limited edition comic book. Heck, I even felt like ripping that goddamn thing up just to spite him, but he would just send me back out again, and believe me, I was not keen on that idea.

"Have you looked outside? It's like the rainforest!" I snapped at him, throwing my drenched jacket in his general direction. He dodged it, of course, letting it fall back against the sofa and soaking it to the extent that mum would definitely not be pleased with me for. "It’s the worst rainstorm in years, Jesus Christ!" I was more than a little passionate when it came to expressing just how shitty it was outside, but believe me, I had my reasons.

"It wasn't raining earlier; maybe you should have gone when I first said so." I shrugged it off, simply handing Gerard his comic book, which had thankfully for my sake, remained safe from water damage via the means of Pete's plastic bag defence system. He pulled the thing out and grinned at it. I was just thankful it was the right one and that I wouldn't have to go back out there again. I was just contemplating as to whom I'd rather not see again - the rain or Pete?

"Are you happy now?" I snapped in a sort of younger brotherly manner that was almost required, and in a typical older brotherly manner he wasn't at all phased by my vaguely harsh tone of voice and he grinned at me, rolling his eyes, because he would always be five years older than me and as much as I hated that, nothing would be changing it.

"Not happy, complacent." Fucking hell, why was I stuck with the world's biggest prat for my brother? I needed to be having words with mum about her child rearing skills, obviously. I did feel just a little sorry for her though, because she'd end up with a twenty five year old hermit of a son who only leaves her basement to visit his not quite boyfriend, and a twenty year old social mess who's most definitely going to get kicked out of college unless by some miracle the guy he met at the comic store who want to suck him off is actually a reincarnation of William Wordsworth.

"Obviously, because Frank isn't here-" I doubted he'd let me go on about Frank for longer than a second considering just what I'd made him admit earlier, despite the fact it was very much the truth, in fact that was probably why it made so much difference.

"May I ask why you were so long out there?" I just blanked him, what was he even getting at? "Got a girlfriend have we, Mikes?" Now, that was funny, especially when I actually thought about what, or who, had kept me so long in a certain comic shop. And then there was the fact that Pete really did quite fancy himself as my girlfriend or something of the sorts; which was both amusing and creepy at the same time.

"No, this dude in the comic shop-" I began to explain, but I realised soon that I was giving off pretty much the wrong message entirely, and the exact message Pete wanted me to convey. Perhaps, his creepy voodoo cupid shit also gave him the ability to possess me or something of the like that I daren’t think about for prolonged periods of time.

"I fucking called it!" He laughed like a maniac, "knew you were gay, Mikes." Yeah, you did, for sure. Well, I know he’s gay. The way he looks at Frank, practically does proclaim it with a megaphone, though. No, wait- I mean, the way he looks at the hallway, of course.

"I'm not." I snapped, because unlike some of us here, I actually wasn't. Gerard, however, was a class A flaming homosexual. "This is, of course, unlike yourself." I think maybe I shouldn't have said that aloud, but you know what, I went with it, because what was the worst thing he could say to me, and how could it possibly faze me after having a conversation with Pete today about everything never to be discussed the first time you meet someone.

"I'm not fucking gay-" Yeah, sure. I heard him admit something to the contrary with my own ears just this morning, so he has very little chance of even trying to lie anymore, which says that maybe he and Frank could possibly maybe get somewhere if I intervened enough. Maybe I could get Pete and his creepy voodoo cupid magic to work upon them, that'd surely help.

"So admitting you're in love with Frank wasn't at all straight, not at all? You don't think? Because you know what gay means? Do you, Gee? It means you love a guy. Frank is a guy. You love him. You're gay. Accept it." I sounded like some sort of sassy tabloid woman, but I wasn't entirely that bothered, because as long as I got the message across, then whatever means I used to do so could surely be forgotten.

"I didn't mean it; I just admitted it, because you were getting the comic... I'm not gay." Nice use of eye contact there, Gerard, or lack thereof. It's not like you're blatantly lying, is it? It's not like your cheeks look like two massive tomatoes slapped right across your face right now? Do they? Not at all, because you're obviously a heterosexual, aren't you? 

Sarcasm: Level Up!

"Frank won't be too happy about that-" I started, doubting that he'd even dream of letting me finish, and really I was right, because when aren't I? Lots of times, yeah, but let's just ignore them momentarily, for myself esteem's sake.

"I said, shut it!" I rolled my eyes, rooting around in the kitchen for a mug and some instant coffee powder. Deciding to get myself a coffee before failing to read another word of Pride and Prejudice and most likely just giving in and ending up texting Pete, maybe just for the English advice, or maybe just for the poetry, or the creepy voodoo cupid magic - who knows? "So, this guy you met in the comic shop..." Jesus Christ. We weren't going there. Pete was odd and therefore would be a rather odd person to explain to Gerard with my sanity intact, and for once I hoped he did actually know Gerard and wasn't just a weird stalker; not, that I was praying to have my own stalker or anything, I'm not quite that narcissistic, not yet.

"Yes you want to discuss this guy, whom I have no attraction towards, yes?" Okay, maybe that was just a little bit of a lie; Pete was good looking, but that doesn't mean I want him to suck me off, despite how keen he seems to be on doing so. Or that Breaking Bad fantasy; yeah, that wouldn't be mentioned. Pete would probably mention it to me if I did text him, though, which gave me another point to consider.

"Yeah, for sure you don’t." Gerard scoffed. Okay, maybe both of us Way brothers were bad liars, but that's beside the point. "Does he have a name?" What do you think? No, he's referred to by his date of birth. Of course he has a fucking name.

"Yes, yes he does." I began pouring the powder into the mug and waited rather impatiently for the kettle to boil. Coffee making was a far too long process for someone far too impatient like me to even consider exceeding at.

"Are you going to be so kind as to tell me it?" Gerard smirked at me. Nope, not chance, but guess what? I think I kind of had to. Maybe just to see if Gerard did actually know him and let myself be able to sleep easy at night, without suspecting that I have some kind of batshit crazy stalker. One who wants to suck me off at that?

"His name is Pete, are you happy now?" No, of course not; he'd be complacent, not happy. Half the words that came out of Gerard's mouth made me want to aim a brick directly at his head. But, really, could you blame me? Maybe it would just be a welcome brick.

"Pete Wentz?" I assumed that was Pete's surname, not that he ever mentioned it in the comic shop, and really I should have asked, even if it felt out of place, because how out of place was even the more decent half of the stuff he said to me. I'm permanently fucking scarred- okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but that's kind of beside the point.

"Yeah, he says he knows you through this guy called Ray, I think." I shrugged; it might not even be the right Pete. There are lots of ‘Pete’s; surely loads even in Jersey. There could be a whole Pete army- no, that's just fucking weird, odd in fact. Pete's rubbing off on me, and not in the way he wants to (thank god).

"Yeah, Ray. Pete's definitely very gay, just giving you a hint." He winked at me. Yeah, I think I've figured that out already, just maybe, nah, maybe not. He didn't exactly make it that obvious. I was still at little perplexed with Gerard's now apparently iron solid assumption that I was in fact gay, like him. It wasn't genetic, so I wasn't sure as to quite why he was so persistent about it.

"I think he's already made that quite clear." Gerard raised his eyebrows, as I poured the boiled water into my mug. God, I bet Gerard thinks we've had sex or something, which is probably exactly what Pete wants him to think, because Pete's also a narcissistic little shit like that. Then again, so am I. Puzzle pieces again.

"Ooh." He literally sounded like a fifteen year old girl and it was horribly embarrassing. "How did he?" Maybe I would prefer to be five years older than Gerard, and see how he likes it for once, I'll be quizzing him about guys he met in comic shops, unwillingly at that, and I'll be forcing him to run through storms to fetch me comic books and shit. But I don't think I'm exactly big brother material; Gerard is, but I'm just sort of born to be a younger brother- well, guess what, I was! But, I'm just not the kind of guy to be able to beat up bullies to protect my little bro. I'd chicken out, and then somehow I began to respect that Gerard was the older one; only for once, and only in this context.

"Well...." I considered telling him the truth, and then the cons of it, but I chose to ignore them, simply because if I told Gerard all I had to say then maybe he might shut up about it and let me take my chances at not failing this semester. "He offered to suck me off." Okay, maybe I shouldn't have been quite so direct about it, but fuck it! I'd been brainwashed by Pete, nothing made any sense anymore, and everything was just odd...

Gerard spluttered. "Yeah, that's Pete for you." He paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes at me in a manner just couldn't quite comprehend. "Did you accept?" What the fuck- Was he planning this? Was he expecting me to accept? And was he really that insistent with his assumptions regarding my sexuality?

"What no! Of course not-"

"Damn it, Mikey!" He ruffled my hair, as he was making his way down to the basement, yet again, maybe he'd be starting on that sketch book again, maybe he'd be drawing Frank naked this time, and I'd just try my hardest not to walk into the room when he's accidentally left it open, because that's really not something I want to see. "You've got to take some initiative. However, he does know where I and therefore you live, so I wouldn't be surprised if he turns up after his shift." He winked at me, and oh my god. He would. Wouldn't he? He's Pete, of course he would! Fuck.

"And if he does, tell him to fuck off." There's not a chance in hell that he'd even contemplate leaving me alone, so I may as well text him and tell him to fuck off, or that we've moved to Malaysia or something of the like.

"Not a chance, I'll be sure to let him right in." Here’s a prime example of adequate older brother, terrible friend.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

If you actually read all of that, I'm impressed;) Maybe I deserve some comments and votes, what do you guys think? Love y'all<3