An incredibly annoying beeping noise penetrated the complacent silence that hung over the room. Thankfully, Gerard had taken it upon himself to go and irritate Frank instead of me, or perhaps they'd be doing something entirely more romantic, as I had come to very much suspect would be the case, especially considering Gerard's recent confession regarding his rather short and awfully homosexual best friend, a confession that I'd pressured into existence, but a confession nonetheless.

The beeping noise had rather stubbornly refused to stop, forcing me to disregard Pride and Prejudice for what felt like the seventh thousandth time in the past few days - not that part me exactly minded at, well, the rational part, the part that cared at least just a little bit about my college grade and the rather real threat of my professor chucking me out of the course and in turn any hopes of leaving moving out before I was twenty five, and then again, there were her suspicions regarding my somewhat questionable and somewhat pyromaniacally fuelled, tendencies.

I forcefully picked up my phone, which unfortunately still insisted on relentlessly sounding out throughout the barely acceptable study environment, and glancing at the caller I.D. – Pete; should've guessed, really. Pete had somehow come to the conclusion that the best way to assist me with my study was relentless calling, texting and general irritation, because nothing upped your grade like an inability to concentrate.

I picked up on the sole condition that there wouldn't be a chance that he simply wouldn't just give up after one phone call; c'mon this was Pete, after all. Pete didn't stop if you didn't pick up, because Pete took it personally and Pete didn't stop calling, and when I mean didn't, I mean didn't. You could either pick up or develop ear trauma from the dial tones and end up having your eardrum surgically removed by some pompous doctor that didn't exactly have much of a clue as to what the hell he was doing, but just fancied the prestige and the hefty salary.

I opted for picking up; the sensible and stupid option, but then again, with Pete, things were just like that - odd. Pete was generally an odd guy, and it had really taken some oddity for him to continuously persist with his seemingly endless requests and flirtations regarding an episode of Breaking Bad, which left me very much regretting telling him I loved the TV show that pretty much everyone had a box set of. I should have chosen something ambiguous, something that he'd have to trek for several hundred miles across the amazon... website, to simply get a copy of. And then there'd be shipping costs from the actual amazon where it was probably only stocked in one little warehouse where no one spoke English.

"Pete." I sighed, placing the phone on speaker and on my desk beside me, wondering if I could possibly juggle Pete, and Pride and Prejudice at the same time. I very much doubted my ability to do so, but this, of course, wouldn't stop me trying. I’m persistent, yet awfully unsuccessful in my constant attempts. Pete just seemed to beat tiresome literature from God knows how many hundreds of years ago, but then again, who doesn't?

"Mikessss, hello! How are you?" He practically screamed down the line, making me glad I'd insisted upon putting the stupid thing on speaker. He had insisted upon greeting me in a very similar manner every time he'd insisted upon calling me, which over the past few days, had turned out to be a rather frequent occurrence. I knew I should have used Frank's phone; I was planning to, but I wasn't planning for when Gerard had insisted upon breaking it, and I wasn't sure it was actually that accidentally either, which Frank was particularly not pleased about. Coffee and electronics didn't get along, as one may have guessed, but apparently Gerard didn't quite manage that one.

"Pete, you do realise that I've only managed to plough through another fifty pages of this damn book since you've decided I need to be 'checked up upon' every.... what," I paused for a moment, thinking over all the occasions Pete had insisted upon calling me, and instantly regretting that decision as soon as I'd taken it, because just thinking about it put it into perspective, and once it was put into perspective, it simply made my head hurt. "Checking up on me every hour or so." I wasn't even exaggerating, and I'd come to wish I was.

"Well, I do assume you need the extra literary help." I could sense Pete's sarcasm, even though we were speaking through phone lines; this had become one of my apparent talents, and certainly not one I'd requested at that. It was just a little but useful, but what'd be more useful entirely, would be if Pete stopped calling me entirely and I wouldn't even have to worry about filling my head with phone line sarcasm translation as opposed to Pride and Prejudice, and its remaining hundreds of pages I'd yet to tackle - Pete's fault, once again. Okay, maybe it was more entirely mine; I was a stickler for procrastination, and Pete was a perfectly good enough form of procrastination for me.

"Yeah..." I dragged out the syllables carelessly, my eyes scanning over the words, yet refusing to take them in - it was hopeless, and unfortunately rather unproductive, as my life seemed to be turning out these days, and maybe that did just have a little something to do with a certain dirty minded guy who worked at the comic shop. "But, I really do doubt you can summarise the entirety of Pride and Prejudice within the next few minutes, before I get far too tired of you and inevitably hang up."

"You can't just hang up on me, Mikes." I could almost sense the puppy dog eyes and the pout coming on, because really, it was Pete and whatever could he be doing. The image of him pouting to himself, or at his phone for that matter was awfully quite amusing and didn't fail in making me chuckle a little, even if I did look absolutely mental making facial expressions to no one. Of course, there was the fact that Pete could most definitely hear me, and his massive ego would probably assume I was laughing at what he'd said. Maybe I didn't entirely care that much about his ego inflation in that moment in time and was more than happy to let it inflate like a balloon and slowly drift away, carrying him with it, as long as it allowed me to plough through a few more pages of this godforsaken book.

"Watch me." The corners of my lips turned up into a rather devious smirk as my index finger lingered over the hang up button. I did consider it, but Pete wouldn't be all that happy, and maybe, just maybe I did, well a part of me at the very least, desire the human company and the light in the midst of insanity that liked to be called Pete Wentz.

Or maybe it was just the procrastinatory side of my head, but it didn't entirely matter that much as long as I remained satisfied by his more than a little irritating, but welcome nonetheless, company. My short term mind just was happy as long as it was as far away from my copy of Pride and Prejudice as it could possibly be.

"I knew you would." I could hear the irritating sound of his laughter echo into my room and I considered simply throwing my phone against the wall and letting Pete talk to a cushion or whatever else landed upon it; unfortunately, this was not something that was in any way acceptable in real life, and therefore I'd had to experience the entirety of Pete's madness and maybe just pure loneliness in the comic shop, near enough six days ago now. However, I could, in fact, rectify my sanity right in this very moment now, but I was already too addicted to the relentless dirty talk and pathetic jokes, or at least I very much preferred them to the pompous and difficult texts of Pride and Prejudice.

Maybe I could get Pete to read it to me? Nah, he wouldn't be so obliged to do that, and it's not like he'd manage to take it seriously at all, but maybe his insights would be amusing and maybe just a little helpful, well even just a few of them anyway. I'd have to give him some kind of incentive, though - an episode of Breaking Bad? No, I wasn't going quite that far or quite that desperate, at least not yet anyway. I'd struggle through, untouched by Pete Wentz, and overall bored and drained of all motivation.

"I'm considering throwing this phone against the wall, y'know?" I just let myself so casually remind him, just because it entertained me, as did a lot of things regarding Pete, episodes of Breaking Bad aside. He was irritating and more than a little disgusting, but he was funny and kind of cute. It was odd, fucking odd and maybe even just a little bit messed up, but then again, my life generally seemed to follow that tone, so I just should've expected it really, but, Pete, cute? That was a whole new sub-genre of odd entirely.

"Hmm...." He didn't seem particularly offended, thank god, but then again, it was Pete, and it wasn't like I really expected him to be. "There is though, the risk of your phone screen smashing, leaving you unable to call other less annoying people." Pete just really didn't know that, besides Frank, he was the only none family member in my contacts - I suppose Frank didn't really count anymore considering the recent accident involving his phone and Gerard, and there was the fact that soon enough, give it a year or two possibly, that Gerard and Frank would be married, making Frank a member of my family.

Fucking hell, that was kind of weird to think about. I don't know if it was the image of Gerard in a suit and not a t-shirt and sweatpants (jeans if Frank was around) that had been without being washed for several weeks. Or if it was Frank being my brother in law, I mean the dude was great, that'd just be a little unusual. I just hoped Frank would manage to convince Gerard to move out of the basement after their wedding, because I would not want to be the one to hear their bedroom based activities on their wedding night, thank you very much.

"Yeah," I sighed, putting down Pride and Prejudice entirely. This was admitting defeat in the form of Pete Wentz, but for once, maybe I just didn't really care that much. "But that's a risk I'm willing to take if it means you'll finally shut up." I heard his faint laughter over the phone line and I couldn’t deny that it pulled the corners of my mouth up into a small smile, because Pete's laughter was fucking contagious and overall, simply wasn't a force to be reckoned with.

"Harsh." Pete noted. It was, but I didn't exactly care; Pete had most certainly covered 'harsh' topics within his conversations before: harsh topics involving Breaking Bad and condoms. Yes, condoms had been a rather important subject matter recently, strawberry flavour ones in particular. "Hmm... maybe you should throw your phone into Gerard's room, so at the very least I'll have someone to talk to." Even if Gerard was in his room and not Frank's, I doubted he'd very much want to engage in conversation with a slightly pissed and very flirtatious Pete Wentz.

"Nah, he would most definitely break my phone." I most definitely did not want a repeat of Frank's phone incident happening to me, because if I didn't have a phone for Pete to text and call excessively, then I very much suspected that he'd eventually resort to stalking me or something equally as concerning as that. I mean, he knew where I lived from Gerard, so there wasn't much stopping him from practically sitting in our garden all day. In afterthought, this was something I didn’t particularly wish to think about.

"He broke Frank's phone the other day, and regardless of that, he's at Frank's right now. He's probably very preoccupied over there as well." Pete just giggled, knowing far too well as to what I was suggesting. The giggle, though- fuck. He sounded kind of like some 9th grade girl, gossiping relentlessly with her best friend... about her other best friend. But, it wasn't gossiping, because it wasn't at all very far from the truth at all.

"What happened to it? Frank's phone, I mean." I wondered as to what else he could possible imagine that I would have thought he meant. Maybe Frank's dick, perhaps? Yeah, considering Pete, I probably wasn't even that far off at all.

"Coffee stains - apparently mobile phones and liquids don't mix, who would have guessed?" He laughed a little, seemingly just a little sadistically amused with Frank's misfortunes. Pete's sadism was just a little amusing though, especially a previous recount regarding some kid that had bragged about his skating skills and then back flipped over a railing and landed into a lake. Pete was in hysterics and had to end up running away before the aforementioned skater boy kicked his little pansy head in.

But maybe that isn't sadism, perhaps, that's just karma. Who knows? Maybe not even God, if there is a God, I mean. I don't particularly believe in God, but if there's some evidence or major miracle then I wouldn't be sulkily skeptical when it comes to believing in him, like some toffee nosed scientist priding his shiny and daily polished master’s degree. Ah, speaking of college degrees and my hopeless chances regarding getting one- Nah, Pete is far more interesting.

"Ah, I knew it; Gerard and his coffee addiction, huh?" Gerard and his goddamn coffee, though. Like not even Frank, as proven, would get between the two of them. I swear he had a drug level addiction to caffeine, and no one had pressed the matter simply because they're glad he's not addicted to something really dangerous. But really, the amount of coffee he's drinking is actually kind of dangerous, but then again, Gerard seems to come with that attitude that if it hasn't killed him yet, that means it's not worth worrying about. That seems to be an attitude he'll end up taking to his grave.

"Don't joke about that; I'm the one who has to live with the caffeine addict himself." I groaned; the smell of caffeine was pretty much atomically bonded with the walls, floors and every other piece of furniture in this house Gerard has touched, or his coffee spillages. Gerard was awfully good at spilling coffee and even better about getting awfully pissy about it. Like teenage girl level of pissy, but then again, that was Gerard; I swear he was half teenage girl. He was too feminine to be true or heterosexual, but I think we've already pretty much covered that matter.

"Well, I have an empty house and very little to do-" Oh, god. Pete's suggestive ploys and invitations were actually getting rather tiring by now, and there was the fact that no matter how many times I declined whatever the fuck he was offering, each time dirtier than the last, he always seemed to get really disappointed, and when Pete got disappointed, he didn't just get disappointed, he turned into a human puppy, and fuck, if that's not soul crushing, then I don't know what is.

"No." I snapped instantaneously, kind of wishing Pete would just drop it, but another part of me never wanting the fabulous procrastination method on legs, Pete Wentz, to never, ever shut up, not even if the world engaged in nuclear war, because even if that did happen, my professor would somehow still manage to make my grade and this fucking book relevant. I swear once I've read it, I'm burning this fucking book. I don't even care about when she asks for it back; I'll just say I lost it or some shit. Gerard can forge mum's signature as proof, and of course he'll be more than happy to engage in some burning of sappy romantic classics – hey, maybe we’ll even have an entire celebratory bonfire and invite like the four people we know combined.

"No, Pete -unlike you, I do in fact have a book to read, that does in fact contribute to pretty much the entirety of my grade for." I was now, kind of, just in a sadistic way, or maybe a procrastinatory way, getting rather keen on the option of nuclear war. Or maybe I should just stopping being a stupid little prick and lock myself in my room until I finally finish Pride and Prejudice. Considering my efforts, mum would probably even bake a cake for me as reward. Cake's nice; cake's even an incentive-

"Yeah, but who really cares about that nonsense, Mikes?" Pete instantly ruined my productive and cake induced thoughts with his rather apparent disregard for study and conventional learning. Judging by his job and just how content he was with it, (not that I blamed him - comic stores are cool) led me to assume that Pete had never bothered with any further education after high school, and had no current intentions of going to college. Much like Gerard, in fact, who seemed to be doing absolutely great with getting on with that life of his - sarcasm intended.

"My college professor cares, apparently." Well, she'd actually made that just a little bit more than 'apparent'. She practically screamed it at us in a Gordon Ramsey like fashion on a horribly regular basis, but it was never quite as persistent and regular as Pete's relentless and maybe not quite so irritating phone calls.

"How about you just take up assassination and murder her?" Pete rather unhelpfully suggested, but maybe it wasn't all that much of a bad idea after all- okay, yeah, it really was, but it was enticing- and horribly illegal, but enticing nonetheless. At least you get fed in prison... and buttfucked, but let's focus on the positives here.

"Yeah," I sighed, letting out far too much air for my lungs not to panic momentarily as they desperately inhaled more. Fuck, I couldn't even breathe correctly, wow. "That's not entirely the best idea." I noted, just on the off chance that Pete was considering it himself- well, it wasn't exactly so much of an off chance, considering Pete and his newfound sadistic tendencies.

"You're boring." Pete stated, with an apparent lack of politeness and etiquette. I moaned, squinting through my glasses, which were now sliding down to the end of my nose, at Pride and Prejudice. Fuck, it was like the words just simply didn't want to go in. They hovered in my mind momentarily, but were entirely gone by the end of the sentence and I wondered if I'd just have to disregard my professor's advice entirely and sit through the film, ignoring how tediously romantic it'd undoubtedly be, but hey, maybe I could get Gerard to watch it with me. Nah, he wouldn't even last a minute- maybe, I could bribe Pete… or would that lead into something entirely unintended and Breaking Bad esque?

"You're distracting." I counteracted his previous statement, wondering if I should disregard his conversation entirely and get on with something productive, such as my college assignment, maybe? Or would that be too optimistic entirely?

"Don't you dare hang up on me-" Too late; my finger pressed down upon the hang up button, and Pete's voice was suddenly gone from the room, leaving me to rather reluctantly pick up my battered, school edition copy of Pride and Prejudice. Well, hello, Mr Darcy.

-

"Given up already?" I was perched on the edge of the kitchen countertop, sipping piping hot coffee as carefully as I possibly could, because I really wasn't at all that keen when it came to the matter of burning my lips, tongue and entire mouth, when a rather skeptical Gerard strolled in, banging the back door behind him (but not in the same way he banged Frank, of course).

"Yeah, okay maybe I have… but blame Pete." I mumbled into my coffee cup, just assuming Gerard could hear me and not entirely caring all that much if he couldn't, and pulling my gaze away from my sorry excuse for an older brother and continuing to take pleasure in slowly and mildly unintentionally burning my tongue, because even a burnt mouth was better than Pride and Prejudice, not that I was procrastinating again or anything, despite the fact that I totally was, but whatever.

"Oh." A smirk flashed across Gerard's face as he took the liberty of perching next to me on the countertop; I made extra special care not to put my coffee down, even momentarily, as there wasn't a single doubt that he'd make no haste in stealing it, being far too lazy to make himself one for at least another ten minutes. "Pete was distracting you, was he?" And of course he had to take it that way; it was practically his job as an irritating older brother, but of course, that gave me all the rights I wanted in the field of teasing him about Frank and their undoubtedly awfully intimate relationship.

"Shut up." I gave him a brotherly shove, my cheeks tingeing just a little bit pink at his words' suggestive intent, because Pete was just a little bit cute, it was his sexual advances that weren't. He'd needed a new flirting technique, and a part of me even considered teaching him, but I didn't really know if I liked him that much; I'd have to think it over a little, but later, because that was a very good and valid method of procrastination which I could use to ward off Pride and Prejudice for a while longer tonight.

"He totally was, brother dear!" Gerard proclaimed in a terribly queer manner, making me chuckle just a little bit too much and making me spill a little of the coffee, causing the hot liquid to splash against my legs in a rather painful manner. I mumbled a profanity or two, causing Gerard to raise his eyebrows at me, before continuing in his harassment of me regarding a certain Pete Wentz and his awfully suggestive comments.

"Yeah, yeah whatever-" I batted him off, desperately trying to rub hot coffee off of my jeans, and failing rather spectacularly in that matter, and for once finding myself glad, that like all my other items of clothing, they were black, and that the colour brown didn't exactly show up very well on them. See, 'depressing colours' did have their uses, mother.

"You're practically agreeing with me!" Gerard exclaimed, as I came to give up in my attempt at removing the spilt coffee from where it had practically embedded itself in the fabric of my jeans. I rolled my eyes at him, simply wishing he could manage to shut the fuck up for a second, but I guessed that he was Gerard and was therefore generally incapable of anything of the sort.

"No, I'm not - shush." He raised his eyebrows at me, remaining just as skeptical as he was when he walked in, "and shall I just remember what you agreed to regarding Frank.... six days ago now?" His confession was a great, if not slightly cruel, method of blackmail. But cruel was what siblings did best, along with blackmail, of course.

Anyway, it wasn't like he was anywhere near discreet regarding his attraction to Frank. It was about as obvious as the coffee stains on Gerard's clothing, which there were an awful lot of, but then again, he did drink a lot of coffee within a three week period, which was when, I think, he last washed that shirt. There wasn't anything special about it, he was just lazy, and mum was more than fed up with him and his mass amounts of laundry.

He turned a horrible shade of scarlet, as he did just about every time Frank's name appeared in conversation. I truly wondered how Frank had managed not to even notice, like fuck, Gerard was blatantly obviously, and quite painfully in love with him. "We've already covered-" Yes, but not at all in quite enough detail, because I haven't heard all the details regarding their little date today, not that I'd call it a date in front of Gerard, because he was a stubborn little princess, and I wasn't in the mood for him to make a fuss over the exact term I used to describe Frank's and his' little 'bromance'. Because, c'mon, who are we kidding, it was a date.

"Yes, the hallway, yes, Gee." I rolled my eyes at my pathetically love-struck brother before proceeding to sip away at my coffee. His obsession with the hallway had become rather tiresome, and I'm sure he wouldn't quite shut up about how 'totally platonic' his relationship with Frank was, even in the future, when they had been married twenty years. Which will happen, in fact, I'd bet on it. But, not with Gerard, because he'd be stubborn enough to refuse Frank's proposal, just so he could win – he’s a stubborn little shit like that. "So how was your little trip to Frank's today?"

"Good." Did this mean ‘good - we fucked and it was good’, or ‘good - we are good friends’? Neither, yet both, as it would always be with Gerard. "We had pizza and then we talked and-" Yeah, I'm sure they just had pizza, because c'mon how could they eat Italian food without re-enacting that scene from the Lady And The Tramp with the spaghetti, even if it was pizza, which thinking about it, would surely be quite difficult, but Frank's part Italian; I'm sure he could figure it out.

"Talked and then made out?" I finished for him and Gerard just shot me an instant-kill look, but he did in no way deny it, which of course meant that it was true. But then again, was there really any doubt in the first place? "C'mon I know you love him, and that he loves you-" Of course he had to end up cutting me off with yet more bullshit, but we both knew who was right here. I'll give you a clue: it's not Gerard.

"Frank is just my friend, Mikes, jeez." He got up from the countertop and made a beeline towards the kettle; this could only mean one thing - coffee. Frank and Gerard were definitely much more than friends, though, dear lord. The eye-fucking and the tension it was unbearable, like I swear even mum picked up upon it, and she'd prefer Frank over Gerard as her own son, so I really don't think she minded that much at all.

"Does Frank not have coffee at his house?" I inquired as he furiously began preparing the drink in a practically military fashion. I mean he couldn't not have coffee, especially if he was considering a long-term relationship with Gerard, which of course he was, because he was very much in love with him. How could they possibly be so blind to their love for one another, it was painful, even for me, Jesus Christ!

"I'm forcing him to get some." Gerard replied, his eyes never leaving the mug. It was that same black mug he always drank out of; he insisted upon using that same black mug ever since he was fourteen and this dreadful caffeine addiction began. It had gained several chips and cracks over the years, but according to Gerard, it did its job just fine. Why he was so attached to the damn thing, I hadn't a clue, but I thought it best not to ask in order to save myself from god knows what madness he could possibly spurt out at me. Because I swear he had come to love that mug just as much as he loved Frank, and that was more than a little creepy, to be honest.

"What for when you move in with him?" Gerard simply chuckled, as if the idea was utterly preposterous, but from the look on Frank's face whenever the two made eye contact told me that the aforementioned preposterous idea, was in fact, completely plausible, and in fact, had a greater chance of happening than me passing this English course, especially considering Pete's constant interruptions and general inadequacies when it came to English. In fact, I think he was worse than me, but I still haven't seen this poetry of his, so you could never tell.

"Mikes, we both know that I'm not going to leave that basement until the day I die." Mum was also certainly well aware of that fact, and it wasn't one she was particularly fond of, neither was I for that matter, because you could hear every fucking sound that was made by or came from that bed downstairs when you were in the kitchen or living room, which definitely wasn't a very nice thing to listen to, especially when Frank was around, because then the noises only got louder, and more… vigorous.

"True." I paused for a moment, wondering about whether what I'd say next would offend him or not, but fuck- he's Gee, he's my brother; I can say anything to him and he'll just ruffle my fucking hair and call me cute, "do you think you'd even have your funeral in there?" Ok maybe this didn't quite grant hair ruffling, but Gerard wasn't offended, more of perplexed. "Not that I want you to die, of course." He grinned at me; this time I got the hair ruffle.

"Of course you don't, Mikes. What would you do without me?" Drink coffee in peace? Be able to sleep at 4am, because you wouldn't be blasting Metallica? I didn't say any of these, because maybe that was just pushing it a little. "Mum wouldn't be all that keen on the basement funeral, though, considering the smell and all, but maybe, why not?" He poured the boiling water into the mug and grabbed it before joining me on the edge of the counter top once again.

"Could we even fit a funeral into that basement? Not that I'm ever allowed there long enough to have any idea of the dimensions," I gave him a glare, one he easily ignored, because both of us knew that I wasn't exactly as keen as Gerard on spending prolonged amounts of times in darkened underground rooms. "I presume it's pretty small, though."

"Mikes, it's not like my funeral would be the main attraction of Jersey. There'd be about four people there – with myself included." Gerard's lack of self-appreciation was annoying at times, because he didn't seem to ever quite understand just as how he'd always be my big brother and how much he'd always and forever matter, and that no one, not even Pete, (not that Pete was even anywhere near close) could replace him.

"Nah," I shook my head; my funeral would be the one with four people, because I'm truly the one with an abysmal lack of friends, and two family members I see on a regular basis, but then again, funerals do have this knack for pulling relatives you didn't even know existed out of nowhere and presenting their mostly likely terribly irritating existence to you. "There'd be me and mum, and dad-"

"Dad wouldn't care." Yeah, I shouldn't have brought up Dad, because Dad didn't care and that was really quite clear, seeing as he cared so much as to move to Australia with a new age hippie called Maisie-Rae who wore flower crowns like they were her burka and barely looked over seventeen. I think their relationship was illegal in most places, but in Australia people didn't tend to care awfully that much – I think they were more concerned with the venomous spiders and shit that just loved to nest in their shoes. I just hoped the both of them got eaten alive by an alligator, or whatever the hell else they had in the regards of carnivorous wildlife down under, but from what I've heard, there's certainly no lack of it.

"There'd be Frank, though, and Pete." I paused momentarily, astonished at my complete lack of knowledge regarding Gerard's peer group, not that he had much of one in the first place, but I was trying to prove a point here. Then again, Gerard did seem to change peer groups every few years and not really out of choice either. It wasn't his fault; people turned out to be shit people, I guess. "And Ray with the 'fro." I added, remembering Pete’s mentioning of their mutual friend.

"That's five people." Gerard reminded me of the fact that he could count. "Okay, six including myself, but hardly much of a funeral." I desperately tried to rack my brains for someone else that Gerard was once even vaguely acquainted with, simply trying to prove a point in the typical stubborn Way manner.

"Bert McCracken!" I proclaimed, almost too excitedly, and then I came to realise exactly whose name I'd said. Fuck. Bert was bad news. Bert was long gone. But Bert was always in Gerard's head; he'd left a mark and it was still there even now. I could barely even look at Gerard, considering the mistake I'd just made, because it wasn't just a mistake, it was one hell of a massive fucking colossal, brain wrecking mistake.

Gerard just shook his head, his eyes again away from mine, "the kid that sold me weed once in 11th grade? Yeah, I doubt he even knows who I am anymore, and considering how much he was smoking a day, I should be the one attending his funeral by now..." Gerard's voice dwindled off slowly towards the end of his sentence before it came to a stop entirely, and that's when I knew that all the memories were slowly coming back to Gerard, and if that wasn't bad news then I didn't know what was.

"Gee, fuck, I'm sorry-" I tried to patch things up, but the wound had already spilt upon, the blood flowing like a waterfall with no apparent hope of stopping. I'd fucked things up this time, like really.

"I thought we agreed that we weren't going to talk about this?" His voice turned up into a snarl, and I found myself subconsciously shuffling away from Gerard, I felt guilty instantly, but really Gerard hadn't been this angry, ever. Not even when I turned his Misfits t-shirt pink in an unfortunate washing machine incident; I think this is why he's refrained from washing his shirts since, but even then he wasn't nearly that angry - he was just pissed; now he was furious.

Bert had been Gerard's Frank from eight years ago, except things hadn't exactly gone quite as well as things with Frank would, or at least I hoped they would. Bert was a bad guy, like a really fucking bad guy, and he'd fucked Gerard up completely. It was eight years ago, but the pain was still there, and now I'd caused it to resurface within a few misplaced words with little regard for painful memories that I'd almost forgotten where there.

"You're the one that brought it up." Actually, it was kind of me that'd brought Bert up, but... I was just far too narcissistic for my own good sometimes. I was kind of scared of Gerard and the current state he was in and I was desperately trying to pawn the blame off of myself and onto... him. Yeah, that didn't exactly work.

"Yeah, that's not exactly true, is it?" Gerard snapped again at me. I was just praying he'd calm down, because I couldn't even call Frank now to sort things out with his now broken mobile phone. Frank could just calm Gerard down in an instant, I think it was something to do with the fact that they were meant for each other, but they just claimed that Frank was good at comforting and that kind of shit. Which admittedly, he probably was, but I liked to think that their attraction to one another played a part, even if it was a small one.

"Sorry." It was my fault; there was no doubt about that. I pleaded into his hazel eyes and practically found myself silently praying for an apology.

"It's okay, Mikes," he snapped back into reality, ruffling my hair, to tell me that everything was just fine and then I didn't even care about the mess my hair was currently in, because Gerard was okay and that was what mattered. "I just don't like thinking about him and how he fucked me up." That was more than understandable: none of us liked thinking about seventeen year old Gerard either, because seventeen year old Gerard was a wreck and an addict and seventeen year old Gerard didn't have a Frank to entice him out of his basement every once in a while.

"I know, Gerard. I shouldn't have mentioned him; it's fine."

Gerard had been quite head over heels for Bert, but he never would admit the truth, of course and even now he still insisted that there were no feelings between either of them. Bert however, didn't like Gerard, and Gerard found that he was more desperate to get Bert to fall in love with him and even ended up buying drugs from him and doing them with Bert and his friends to look cooler. Bert's friends were even bigger assholes than Bert and they disliked Gerard even more than Bert did.

He got majorly fucked up, and I wasn't exactly very sure as to what had happened intimately between them, but Gerard ended up walking around like his ass ached for days on end, so I was led assume there had been some degrees of intimacy, and I didn't see them often, but whenever Gerard's shirt pulled up or a piece of his torso was somehow exposed, you were met with thousands of bruises. It took a hell of a lot of support from mum for him to stop with the drugs, and once he graduated he didn't see Bert anymore so everything gradually came to a halt after that. I was content with the fact that Gerard was okay, even if I'd never quite know exactly what happened between the two of them. I was just glad that he met Frank a few years later, and that he met Frank before he met another Bert.

We sat in silence, sipping our coffees for a good few minutes, before Gerard ended up turning to me, "Mikes, can I tell you something?" My eyes widened, wondering if he was going to tell me something very important regarding a certain Mr Bert McCracken, because there was a hell of a lot regarding Bert that I didn't know, and even more of a hell of a lot regarding Bert that I wanted to know, but of course found it utterly inappropriate to ask, because well, the fucking state Gerard had previously been in.

"Yeah, Gee. Of course you can." I looked at him with wide, open, honest eyes. Eyes that were trustworthy and eyes that were ready for whatever combination of syllables could possibly from any combination of words that could possibly leave his mouth in one mildly dysfunctional sentence.

"Well, this is very important and very secret-"

He was cut off by the sound of the back door swinging open and our mother stumbling through it, carrying far too much shopping for a family of three that mainly survived of off caffeine based drinks alone. Our mother was probably the definition of dysfunctional herself, because really ever since Dad left, none of us had really been quite the same ever since, but part of me thinks- part of me knows, that really, it's a change for the better, because we're dysfunctional people, we're meant to be a dysfunctional family.

"Boys, I'm home." She called out into the house, before she noticed that we were both sat a few metres away from her. It almost amused me as to how shocked she looked, but really I didn't blame her; Gerard was always in the basement or at Frank's, and I was far too preoccupied with a certain English course I was bound to fail. "It's nice to actually see your faces for once." She threw the shopping down, and turned around to lock the door, leaving me to glance at Gerard and wonder if the secret he was intent upon telling me was anywhere but forgotten now.

I glanced at Gerard impatiently, but clearly he had no intention of continuing with what he was previously intent upon saying, especially with mum here. So, I decided it best to drop, appreciating that he probably wouldn't appreciate me mentioning it, especially with mum here, especially since it seemed to regard Bert just a little, and he really did not like talking about Bert to mum.

"Mikey, can you help with unpacking?" I sighed, placing my near enough empty mug down next to Gerard - a mistake already - it would be an entirely empty mug when I came back, for sure, and grabbed the nearest bag of shopping, shovelling tins of tuna into a cupboard in the most enthusiastic manner I could muster, but there was really nothing awfully exciting regarding preserved fish, so my attempts were pretty much anything but fruitful.

"How come you didn't ask me? Am I somehow incapable to tidying away groceries?" Gerard's voice piped up. Why he even put this point across I had no idea, because if she'd asked him, he most certainly would not help at all. Gerard was the definition of lazy. If you asked him for a dictionary to look up the word 'lazy', he wouldn't give you one, because he's that lazy.

"No, honey, you’re not incapable." Mum placed the remainder of the shopping bags upon the countertop I had previously been sat on. "You're drinking coffee and I clearly have no chance of getting you to do anything for the next few hours now, but I'm more than content with the fact that you haven't locked yourself away down in the basement." That makes two of us, and I'm awfully glad he hasn't locked Frank down there with him, because then I really do have the right to complain.

"Excuse me? Are you saying I spend too much time down there?" Gerard was only half offended, because it was true, and he knew that himself, I'm just not sure he was awfully keen upon admitting it, because really, he kind of thrived down there, doing things I don't particularly want to think about, and messaging Frank until early hours of the morning.

"Yes." I piped up, shovelling far too many cartons of juice into the fridge; cartons of juice we'd never drink of course. Because, juice had zero percent coffee content, and that was not enough for Gerard; I swear he didn't even drink water anymore, just coffee. It was kind of worrying, but compared to the three week old t-shirts, it was pretty much nothing. There was a whole array of things more important to worry about regarding Gerard, that all were more important than his worryingly heavy caffeine intake.

"I just came back from Frank's, thank you very much." Gerard turned his nose up at us in a joking manner, giggling a little at his own reflection in the reflective surface of the fridge that mum had spent far too much money on, but apparently you need to check your appearance whilst making food- oh, it was just the fact that Gerard always waited for Frank in the kitchen, of course.

"I'm glad you've got Frank, honey." Mum smiled at him, waggling her eyebrows just a little suggestively, and in a terribly un-maternal manner, but then again, dysfunctional, odd, we were the Ways. We had our own way. Terrible pun intended as always. Terrible puns were another one of mum's habits, but Frank always seemed to laugh at them, even if the laughter was painfully forced, so she instantly approved of him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gerard snapped, clearly knowing her words' precise intent, as we all did, but in order to keep to his platonic love bullshit, he couldn't jump to conclusions, of course. We all knew what conclusion he wanted to jump to though; that conclusion being Frank's bed, but I'm sure he already makes regular visits.

"I'm not blind, dear." Gerard had to get his sass from somewhere, and apparently I hadn't inherited the apparently genetic sass gene that Gerard had, which was an awful shame really, because he was a devious little sass queen, and a very queer one at that.

"Ha!" I smirked, leaning back against the fridge after throwing the empty plastic bags in the bin, watching Gerard express his concept of platonic love to mum would be certainly rather entertaining, especially with the fact that she was more than happy with Gerard marrying Frank; in fact, she practically encourages it. Excepting she's just not quite as good as subtlety as she'd hope, and therefore Gerard can manage to pass her awkward comments off to Frank as 'mum talk', which he's all too eager to accept for someone that's terribly in love with him.

"For fuck's sake, we're just friends-" Oh god, here we go again! Should I grab the popcorn or would that be just a little bit too indiscrete? Maybe I’ll have to think about that one, not that we have any popcorn, anyway, so it's not like I can actually initiate some sort of mini-cinema in here, not that I was really that keen on the idea in the first place, I just seem to get awfully carried away sometimes, and apparently, this is one of those times.

"Language, Gerard!" Mum really should just give up on nagging him about that, because there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to stop. He'd quite happily pull out the 'f bomb' in front of two year olds, permanently imprinting into their vocabulary, much to their parents’ dismay; I think Frank would have to teach their kids to talk to be honest.

Feeling a vibration in the pocket of my jeans, I pulled out my phone, just a little irritated, but maybe a little bit more relieved to see a text from Pete. Really who else was it going to be from, though? It wasn't as if I was the centre of attention, was I?

Hey Mikey. I’m watching breaking bad ;) x

I couldn't help but blush a little, instantly knowing his true intentions with that text. Pete was in a blowjob mood- scrap that, Pete was always in a blowjob mood; the problem for him was that I most certainly wasn't. I just wasn't quite that gay, at least not yet anyway. Sexuality was kind of a grey area for me; I hadn't quite figured out as to what the hell I was attracted to. I mean, Pete was hot, but so was Sarah from college, who I hadn't quite grown the balls to speak to yet, and then again there was this blatantly homosexual kid with eyeliner game stronger than Gerard’s. I doubted that I ever would figure out just who the hell I was attracted to, and Pete had made me quite content in that fact.

"Is that Pete?" Gerard asked. His eyes were fixated upon the phone screen that was clearly turned away from him. I did not want Gerard seeing our conversations, and that was for certain, because oh my god, I'd never hear the end of it - from both Pete and Gerard, and quite possibly Frank. Maybe even Ray with the 'fro if I ever met him; I kind of did want to, because well, he sounded like a cool guy, you know.

I nodded in response to Gerard's question, and ignoring the intense eyebrow waggling as I began tapping out a reply.

Hey Pete you’re not going to give me a blowjob whatever you say x

"Who's Pete?" Mum's voice entered the conversation. Shit. I glared at Gerard, sending him the most intimidating look I could muster, because Gerard was not going to fuck this up for me; mum did  not need to know Gerard's opinion upon my 'relationship' with Pete, not at all.

"My friend, Pete’s my friend." I replied, my eyes never leaving Gerard's, the subliminal 'if you fucking say a fucking word' messages never stopping, until mum decided to leave her helpful and rather unexpected input.

"Oh don't you start." Gerard burst into a fit of laughter, the eye contact instantly broken, the subliminal messages gone. And mum was now definitely stuck in the mind-set that Pete was my Frank; which he was not, not nearly, not quite, not now anyway.

"What-" I began, cut off by the vibration of my phone, which was both a great and terrible thing at the same time: A) I didn't have to come up with some sort of witty comeback to rival what Gerard would undoubtedly throw in my direction next; B) It was Pete.

How about you give me 1 then? X

Jesus fucking Christ, I sighed aloud, Gerard smirking at me. I was right about condition B. And Gerard had the fucking 'I told you so' gaze on that I'd come to hate with all of my being over the past decade; Gerard was a little prick and he wasn't at all discreet about it, because well he was Gerard, and he needn't be - he was already flamboyant enough.

"Keep your moaning for the bedroom, Mikes." He winked a little too suggestively at me, and oh my god. Had he really just said that, in front of mum as well? Fuck, Gerard had no boundaries; this made me sort of glad he didn't engage with the rest of society on a regular basis, and confided himself in that basement, even if it was terribly anti-social and not at all healthy, at least he wasn't getting accidentally arrested on a regular basis, for simply being his arrogant little princess self.

"Gerard-" Mum tried, but really, she wasn't getting a word into this one; this was a good, old, long and pointless brotherly argument. The kind that we'd have when I was six and Gerard was eleven, except things were a lot more even now, if not slightly out-dated, but whatever - Gerard would always be my annoying older brother - that was not going to change.

"No, and are you just jealous because you broke Frank's phone and now you have no one to show pictures of your di- oh wait, you have the hallway." I grinned to myself, rather proud at my Gerard sassing, before replying Pete's relentless flirting attempts. Pete didn't exactly have the best of flirting tactics. Pete was more of a 'let me stick my love stick in you' kind of guy as opposed to the profound love ballads of Shakespeare kind of guy (who the fuck calls it a love stick, oh my god). The latter of the two would be undoubtedly twice as annoying, yet much more capable in assisting me with passing this English course in one form or another. Pete was as useless as I first assumed when it came to Jane Austen, but then again, I'd never met a guy that was a Jane Austen fan.

No. i will not.

I tapped out; it was a little harsh, but entirely necessary, especially when dealing with Pete Wentz, because if I hadn't been harsh, he would have gotten that Breaking Bad episode when we first met, over a week ago, and that was not a desirable consequence, not at all.

:( Xoxo

"Shut up about the goddamn hallway!" Gerard yelled, storming out and presumably heading back down to the basement, because where the hell else would he possibly go? Frank's house, yeah, but unless he'd dug out a tunnel from the basement to Frank's, I doubted that he was going in anywhere near the right direction at all. Then again, the tunnel idea didn't exactly seem quite so preposterous when you considered it- yeah, maybe, I should stop considering it.

"I will when you grow the balls to tell Frank you love him!" I yelled back, smirking to myself as I dealt with a disappointed and awfully suggestive Pete Wentz. Why couldn't there have been a civilised human working in that shop when I went in I don't even know, but I'm going to blame Gerard, maybe just because I can, and maybe just because I'm mean.

I’m sorry but no blowjobs x

Mum leaned against the fridge beside me and instantly turned my phone screen off; I wasn't exactly keen for her to see my discussion with Pete, especially when it was regarding a matter such as this. And the 'x's on the end, that Pete had initiated and I felt rude to not go along with, were certainly of a questionable nature, but then again, as was pretty much everything regarding Pete Wentz.

"Tell me about this Pete then." She grinned at me, and I rolled my eyes; I was simply just glad she hadn't questioned me about why I'd so quickly switched the screen off. I was wondering where the hell I could possibly start, because with Pete there was no family friendly, fuck, there was barely even any PG-13.

I couldn't start with, 'oh this is Pete, he wants to suck me off whilst we watch Breaking Bad.' Or, 'this is Pete he's a gay man that doesn't believe in commitment but also obsessively texts me every hour.' Or how about, 'this is the reason I'm going to fail English, but you can call him Pete Wentz.' I liked the last one; it had a certain kind of sass to it.

"Like I said, he's a friend." She didn't believe me, but then again with the amount of Gerard's bullshit regarding 'friends', I couldn't exactly blame her, could I? "Seriously, if you want relationship gossip, go ask about Frank." She wouldn't go away that easily, of course, but it was worth a try- well maybe it wasn't, but it made me feel just a little bit better about myself.

"I don't want relationship gossip, I want to know that you're okay; I've met Frank - he's a nice boy." Mum had been very approving of Frank; he'd been almost uncharacteristically polite to her, but I think he wanted to make a good impression if he wanted to have any hope with anything long term with Gerard. She'd even liked him enough to avoid pulling an annoyed face when he mentioned that he was vegetarian - a fact that reminded mum far too much of Maisie-Rae and dad's love affair. I just hoped Frank didn't get eaten by alligators, and not just for Gerard’s sake.

"Pete's a good guy, don't worry." I smiled at her; she was just being careful, and I didn't blame her considering what had happened with Bert, even if it was eight years ago now. She was just making sure that Pete wasn't my Bert, but he wasn't my Frank either, because I wasn't just a Gerard, I was Mikey and Pete would be my Pete and that would be that. Whatever being my Pete would entail, I hadn’t a clue.

"You should invite him over." She suggested, far too casually for such an atrocious idea, because I really doubted that Pete'd go down quite as well as Frank had.

"Nah, I only met him like a week ago - it'd be weird." The truth was that I doubted Pete would try anywhere near as hard as Frank did to make a good impression upon my mother. Pete would need classes and extensive training and emergency briefing, maybe even PowerPoint slides with labelled diagrams, and fuck, anything to keep my mind off of Pride and Prejudice.

"Okay, as long as I get to meet him soon." She ruffled my hair affectionately, in a rather similar manner to the way Gerard did, but it wasn't quite the same; she was more affectionate, more careful... Gerard was more Gerard.

I nodded, despite how opposed I remained to the idea, and really it was for her own good; Pete might accidentally ask her to suck him off or something - that certainly would not go down well at all, not one bit. "Mum, Pete's fine; Gerard knows him." I tried as one desperate last attempt, but she was more than set upon meeting him, so really whatever I said was no use.

"I still want to meet him, Mikes; Gerard isn't exactly the wisest when it comes to choosing friends."

-

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing far too loudly, with my face pressed between pages 106 and 107 of Pride and Prejudice. I'd attempted to read some more last night, but clearly after the amount of dinner I'd even, I'd fallen asleep a few pages in, and after Facebook messaging Frank far too suggestive hints regarding Gerard's massive crush on him, these were still hints he didn’t pick up on, of course. This was something I probably shouldn't have done, but whatever, it was for the best. Maybe I was just a little too eager for Gerard to move out of the basement, but whatever.

I groaned, rummaging around my sheets for my phone, eventually grabbing the goddamn thing, picking it up and placing it to my ear before I had the chance to check the caller I.D. This would of course turn out to be a foolish decision, as things always do, but whatever. I was far too tired to particularly care that much.

"Well if it isn’t Mikeeyy Way!" Oh dear lord. I put it on speaker and place the phone on my bedside table, proceeding to plant my face back firmly between the two aforementioned pages of Pride and Prejudice. Accepting a call from Pete Wentz certainly wasn't the brightest of ideas; if I'd ever had a particularly bright one that is.

"Pete, what the fuck are you doing calling me- like fuck, I don't even know what time it is, but I was asleep, goddamn." I moaned into Pride and Prejudice, my voice so muffled that I doubted Pete could hear me - unfortunately, he could. Pete had rather precise hearing; this was a fact I'd come to notice with the excess of phone calls that he'd been practically bombarding me with.

"The time is 8:24am, Mikey." Pete oh so helpfully informed me. Anything before 10am was far too early as a general rule. Mum didn't particularly agree with the apparent allergic reactions towards any sign of sunlight before midday that both Gerard and I seemed to share.

"Precisely - it's far, far too early."

"Yeah, so anyway come round to mine today?" No warning at all, he just sprung the question up on me; another casual characteristic of Pete Wentz. Pete was like a time bomb, ticking and more than ready to fucking explode. Not that explosion was always a bad thing, especially not in his case.

"No, not at 8:30 in the morning, and not ever will I ever." That was one of the rules to live by, because I think maybe Pete was just trying to catch me tired enough to fall for some stupid ploy of his to get an ‘early morning shag’. Not that I was at all that opposed to the aforementioned idea, especially if it gave me a valid distraction from Pride and Prejudice.

"I know where you live, you know." Fuck, he did. And knowing Pete, he would not hesitate upon coming round at 8:30 in the morning, even if I was half naked, and Gerard would let him in, despite knowing the aforementioned fact very well, simply because Gerard was a major asshole and of course he very much enjoyed that fact.

"Yeah, but I'm not going to let you in." I reminded him.

"Gerard will." Gerard probably would to be honest, seeing as he's such a loyal brother of mine. I was just counting on the fact he wouldn't awaken for another few hours yet, but considering my luck, he was probably already more than wide fucking awake.

"Gerard won't be awake for at least another seven hours." I wasn't exaggerating; Gerard didn't wake up until after lunch and that was on good days- unless Frank was involved, then he was perfectly happy to be wide awake at the crack of dawn of course. Frank came for the early morning shags, as Pete was trying to by the looks of things.

"Fine, I'll bring a ladder and climb in through your window and kidnap you." Yeah, that didn't sound mildly illegal at all now did it?

"I'll lock my window."

"I'll bring a lock pick."

"I hope you fall off that goddamn ladder!" I exclaimed, only meaning it slightly, because a dead guy on my lawn would look awfully suspicious, especially outside my window, but Gerard watched an awful lot of CSI, so he could probably help with body clean up if I managed to drag him out of bed. I think the words 'murder' and 'blood' might just excite him enough to motivate him though, and if that fails, I'll just have to bring Frank along as a bribe.

"Love you too." He remarked, before hanging up and leaving me to bury my face between the pages of Pride and Prejudice.

-

I’m outside your house x

I peered out through the curtain - fuck, he was. Not that I ever did doubt Pete's words when he said he come up to my house, because fuck - that guy had balls.

Frantically, I pulled on a clean shirt, deciding that these jeans were perfectly fine to wear again, pulling a beanie over my untamed hair and pushing my glasses back up my nose. I decided against going out to see Pete whilst half-naked, despite the fact he would most definitely more than enjoy that.

I looked in the mirror; I looked like shit, but slightly less shitty than I had before. It's only Pete; he seems content on giving me a blowjob regardless of my state of appearance, so it'll most definitely do. Not that I wanted a blowjob, of course. But it was nice to have the extra, if not a little concerning self-confidence boost.

Racing down the stairs, I noticed Gerard sat in the kitchen, sipping coffee. I almost did a double take, checking my watch - 9:03am. What kind of shit was going on?

"What the hell are you doing up?" I asked him, slightly concerned regarding his intentions, because if there was one thing that screamed 'not Gerard', it was early morning wake ups, which in turn led me onto the rather ridiculous suspicion that Gerard may have been kidnapped, and it was in fact a murderer wearing his skin sat at my table, or more likely; not a murderer, but Pete – I didn’t know which was worse.

"Frank will be here in an hour." Oh, of course, Frank. I nodded and winked suggestively at him. "Pete's outside, by the way." He nodded and winked suggestively at me. I had gathered this by now, if not just by the texting, but the excessive and somewhat creepy waving; he looked about five, but that didn't diminish the terribly amusing factor in any way, shape or form.

"I'm well aware, thank you." I said, unlocking the front door, readying myself, both mentally, and with a coat, for the wrath of the outside world.

"Don't have too much se-" He didn't even need to add the 'x' on the end for me to instantly know what he was talking about; it was Gerard, he was dirty minded as hell.

"We won't have any." I reminded him, in a rather stern fucking tone of voice.

"It's Pete." He reminded me, and seriously he had a point. I just rolled my eyes, ignoring his point and locking the door behind him, only to be practically tackled to the ground by an over excited puppy that liked to call himself Pete Wentz. And sometimes went by the persona of a five year old little kid.

"Dude, cool it!" I called out, pulling him off of me; which judging by Pete's standards and general lack of knowledge regarding decency was a hard thing to accomplish. "Personal space, does it mean anything to you?" Again, another concept Pete entirely failed to grasp, but it was just what made Pete himself, so fuck it, you know.

"Breaking Bad?" He winked at me - oh god, not again, but no matter how many times I fucking refused, Pete just wouldn't back down, would he? And I think maybe that that's one of the best things about Pete. Then again, there isn't exactly an awful lot of competition with such an odd guy like him. To be honest, I don't even think odd was the right word, he's Pete, and that's all, my Pete- no, not my Pete, not at all.

"No. No. No. No-" He made no hesitance in cutting me off, of course, because Pete didn't take disagreement from anyone.

"Yes?" Haha, in your dreams, Pete- thinking about that... yeah, he probably does dream about the kind of thing... oh god. Now there's a thought I wish wouldn't have popped into my mind as lovingly as Pete happened to pop into my life. Well, to be honest, I think there was more than a little nudging on Gerard's part - not that I particularly minded that much, because Pete was a perfect enough distraction from the tiresome and undoubtedly tediously dull pages of Pride and Prejudice.

"Fuck off." I rolled my eyes, wishing that I'd never woken up to that phone call, but this did give me an awfully good excuse not to plough through another fifty pages of Pride and Prejudice, so every cloud had its silver lining, I guess. Or maybe that was just what I had to say to keep some degree of sanity when talking to Pete.

"C'mon." He grabbed me by the hand and refused to let go of it through it the entirety of the five minute walk to his house, just because he was Pete, and just because he can.

-

"Since when did you live so close to me?" I asked, looking up at the house he was now unlocking, on a street that was only a few minutes’ walk away from mine. Thankfully, he'd had to let go of my hand to unlock the door, so my hand was free, if only momentarily.

"Dude, I've lived here years." The door swung open and he pulled me inside. I was beginning to wonder if Pete had brought this fucking house with no other intentions than to stalk me excessively, or was that just a bit narcissistic?

His house opened up to an open plan living room with stairs leading upstairs in the far corner and a door that lead to what I presumed to be the bathroom behind them. It had a modern theme, which was an awful change to our mismatched, dysfunctional house, which held an array of both modern furnishings and pieces that were older than the house itself.

"You have a nice house." I filled the silence with an awkward remark as he locked the door behind us; no chance of my escape then. Fuck, I just have to keep him away from all Breaking Bad box sets and I'll be fine, but knowing Pete he'd probably already pre-prepared one in each room.

"You have a nice house too, well from what I've seen from the outside." He paused for a moment, winking at me in a way that made me instantly suspicious. "I'd love to see the interior, though... your bedroom in particular." Oh god. Yup, this was definitely Pete, and I hadn't just been kidnapped. Thinking it about it, maybe a kidnapping would be better if Pete would so religiously insist upon his suggestive advances, especially ones regarding Breaking Bad.

"For the final time, Pete, we are not having se-" I could try, but of course, he would never quite let me succeed, would he?

"Yes, yes, I know. How about we make out instead?" Oh my god. But maybe making out with someone like Pete wouldn't exactly be all such a bad idea- no, it would, because he was Pete, and of course he'd try and turn it into something more.

Jesus fucking Christ – this guy was downright impossible. "How about I leave?" It was just a little harsh, but maybe he deserved it, just a little.

"I locked the door." Shit he did. Pete was an awfully good kidnapper, especially when I thought about it... not that I particularly wanted to.

"This is beginning to look an awful lot like kidnap, you know?" I just thought I might as well throw a remark as casual as that into conversation, because well, it was Pete, and why not.

"How about I kidnap you into my bedroom then?" I was close to slapping him straight across the face, but maybe if he just shut up about Breaking Bad I'd be more obliged.

"How about I ring emergency services?" I waved my phone at him just to let him know I was maybe, mildly serious. Okay, I really wasn't and we both knew that, but I wasn't going to stop in the name of the blatant truth.

"Nah, you wouldn't."

"What makes you so sure?" I raised my eyebrows, but really the truth was rather awfully obvious, and I was nowhere near quite as sassy as Gerard.

"I have coffee; I know how much you Ways are addicted to that shit." He grabbed me by the hand, leading me into his kitchen and switching the kettle on. "Come have coffee." Okay, coffee was good, and maybe this whole 'kidnap' ordeal wasn't quite so bad after all.

"Please don't drug it." I leaned against the kitchen table, watching as he busied himself with the kettle. I doubted my words would influence him in anyway whatsoever.

"You know me too well, Mr Way." Oh my god, what even was he? "But since you asked so nicely, I'll miss out the sedatives." Sedatives, Jesus fucking Christ!

"Fucking hell, what even are you?" I muttered at a tone I hoped wasn't quite loud enough for Pete to hear.

"I can hear you, Mikey." He turned around to wink at me, just a little suggestively. "Don't worry, I'm kidding." He paused, "Or am I?" He winked at me again, and I think I just mentally face-planted into about every single object in the room.

"Fuck off, oh my god!" Pete was damn well just fucking ridiculous.

"Do you want this coffee or not?" He asked, waving my mug in the air, trying not to spill the entirety of the coffee out of it and not doing a particularly good job.

"Yes." I snapped, and he slid it across the counter top at me; the both of us choosing to ignore the large amount of coffee he'd spilt, because neither of us could be really that bothered, and apparently we both chose to live by the logic that if you ignored a problem, it simply wasn't there. This was an awfully flawed state of logic, but neither of us particularly cared.

He watched me with narrowed eyes as I eyed my coffee warily, but really, could he exactly blame me? "Take a sip." I furrowed my brows at him, but obliged regardless, "good, now come into the living room with me. Let me find my Breaking Bad box set-"

"Pete-" There was no point even trying to stop that guy anymore.

"Don't worry, Mikes. I'm joking." He smirked at me, and the problem was that I couldn't entirely know if he was kidding or not, especially not anymore. Heck, maybe even Pete didn't exactly know as to whether he was kidding or not, but that would make matters entirely more complicated.

-

His living room was nice and apparently redundant of Breaking Bad box sets, which of course made it infinitely better. We were leant against the bottom of the sofa, Pete fiddling with a record player whilst I sipped coffee that was probably more illegal than Pete's internet history as I gazed absently mindedly out of the window. The view from Pete's window was calming, but then again anything was calming compared to Pete.

"Is Nirvana good?" He gestured towards his vinyl edition of Nevermind and I simply nodded, letting him set it up as I downed the rest of my drug infested coffee; he was probably already pumping hallucinogenic gases through the air conditioning at this very moment, so it didn't exactly matter that much anymore.

‘Smells like Teen Spirit’ flooded my ears on an abnormally loud volume, "are you trying to deafen me?" I asked, just a little impolitely, but this was Pete - there was no such thing as impolite, and my ears were already hurting like hell- fuck.

"No, we need it on this loud, like seriously there are builders outside doing some shed shit, like they'll start drilling a hole to Japan within the next few minutes, promise you." He looked at me with a deadly serious gaze, but I was still utterly convinced that he was trying to kidnap me and tie me to his bed or some other form of absurd shit.

"Sure." I nodded, still convinced he was simply trying to deafen me and then the drills started- fuck. I covered my ears, whining a little. What the hell were they doing to this shed that required so many drills, I hadn't a clue.

"Told you – I wasn’t lying." Well, that seems to be a first. He smirked as he turned up Nirvana.

"That's not going to help-" Surely more volume overall would surely deafen me further?

"Shut up, you'll get used to it." He smirked at me and I put my empty coffee cup down, leaning back as I waited for the sedatives to take effect. At least once I was passed out I couldn't hear all this noise... or at least I hoped not, because I wasn't keen on initiating some trippy as dream sequence or some shit.

"Why do you need an entire construction crew to build a fucking shed?" Was he really that lazy? Oh wait, it was Pete. I began to think Gerard's laziness had somehow rubbed off upon him, but no; Gerard wouldn't even be bothered to hire the crew to fix the shed.

"I hired a construction crew, cos it's hell on the engine." He shrugged it off, as if he hadn't just spoken in an entirely pompous and awfully cryptic manner. That's Pete for you though, I guess.

"You're lazy, basically?" I gathered after a few long seconds.

"That's one way to put it." He grinned at me like the stupidly adorable prat he was. "I thought you said Gerard wouldn't be up for another seven hours, and yet I saw him in your kitchen? Are you trying to ward me off, because it's not working, Mikes?" Maybe I should find some anti-Pete symbol and get it tattooed onto my skin or something, but I doubted that even that would be effective against someone quite as persistent as Pete.

"Clearly not, seeing as I'm sat in your house, drinking something that's probably about as full of drugs as 10th grader's backpack." He chuckled a little, maybe just because it was true, or maybe because he liked that I thought it was - I hadn't a clue in the world, and I imagined that with Pete's stubbornness it would stay that way. "But, I didn't expect him to be up. He's only up because Frank's coming over today."

"Ah, Frank, yes, of course." Pete grinned, choosing to make no comment regarding the contents of the coffee for a reason I could pretty easily guess. "Those two need to get together; they're like soul mates, or some shit." Pete and I could definitely agree on that one, and then again, so could the rest of the human population.

"I know, but considering Gerard's stubbornness, and the fact he never leaves that basement." I sighed, accepting what neither of us wanted to be the truth, "It doesn't look like it'll happen awfully soon." Frank did have an awful knack for motivating Gerard to leave the aforementioned basement, so fuck, you never know.

"He just needs a little encouragement." I nodded in agreement, but Gerard needed balls just a little more than encouragement. "Why is he so antisocial, just asking?"

I wondered if I should tell Pete the entirety of it, so I just went for a small chunk, because there was a hell of a lot of shit that Pete shouldn't know- fuck, there was even a hell of a lot of shit that I shouldn't know. "I don't think he ever fully got over grandma's death, to be honest. He was the closest to her, closer than mum." Grandma had always mattered immensely to Gerard; with mum and dad both working full time until I was born, Grandma practically raised him for the first five years of his life.

"Oh." Pete sighed, his eyes drifting away from me, deep in thought, and I came to wonder as to what someone like Pete could possibly be thinking quite so hard about. "What did she die of, can I ask?"

"She died of cancer." The word simply hurt to say; it was a repulsive thing that I'd quickly grown to hate. Gerard simply wasn't okay for years after she'd died, and I think it was partly what had triggered the whole ordeal with Bert, but with Gerard, you could never really know for sure.

"I had leukaemia when I was a kid." My eyes widened, almost in shock, because Pete really didn't seem like the type. But there never really was a type, was there? It was a weird thing to hear- well, not weird, I don't know... unexpected?

"Really… wow?" I hoped this wasn't another lie, but I think knew this was a clearly a too sensitive topic to lie about. Even Pete had boundaries, or at least I hoped so.

"Yeah," He inhaled slowly, breathing in all the memories at once. "Everyone thought I was going to die, y'know?" He gave me a small smile, an odd smile for an odd thought to go with an odd sentence. "But I didn't and that's what matters."

I exchanged smiles with him, because despise the inappropriate jokes and the mildly morbid humour, Pete always knew when and how to keep everything light.

"Yeah, I mean who else would pester me about blowjobs on such a regular basis?" I grinned at him; Pete would be someone I'd miss, because despite the fact that I'd probably never admit it, Pete was important, and not just mildly important, Pete was hella important.

"I know right. I'm a vital part of your life, Mikey, and maybe you should respect that with a Breaking Bad episode-" Here we go again. Okay, maybe I take back what I previously said about boundaries, because quite clearly, Pete just doesn't know when to shut it.

"Not a chance." He pouted in an awfully cute manner and I instantly found myself forgiving him. I was utterly useless when it came to holding grudges.

"You're far too mean to me." He whispered into my ear in a terribly suggestive manner, and I wasn't going to lie when I say it turned me on a little, just a little though; this was Pete after all. I couldn't let his ego inflate any further or he might just run the risk of exploding.

"You kidnapped me."

"Whatever.” He paused for a moment, his eyes lonely and empty almost drifting back into the beat of Nirvana, and then suddenly he seemed to come back to sanity, all at once and far too suddenly. “Mikey. Can I tell you something… it’s important?”

“Yeah, of course you can.” I answered as calmly as I could manage to, but inside I was quaking, because these were not the words of good news, these were the words of ‘hello, your life has now been fucked up’.

“Mikey, I need to say that, I-…“ His words were interrupted by the vibration of my phone.

Mikey fuck come home please… help me

-Gerard

“I have to go.”

Brothers over cute guys, always, every day, even Pete. And now there were two unfinished sentences lingering in my head and haunting me like an unsettled ghost.

Hey guys:) Wow, I managed to make this chapter even longer than the last ok wow. Let's appreciate just how painful 13,000 words is to proof-read okay.... by giving me hella votes and comments;) C'mon guys I know you wanna *Robin Thicke voice* heyheyhey;) Love y'all<3