Needless to say, this wasn't exactly the best situation that Gerard Way had found himself in, and really, Frank's presence, in fact, did nothing but make the whole damn ordeal a whole lot worse.

Because, poor old Mrs Way wasn't quite anticipating that after a long, hard day at work, to walk into her own home and first of all, have a damn strong smell of weed hit her, only then to be faced with the unavoidable scene in the living room: her eldest son practically making out with a boy.

Okay, they were far off making out, but it had been a particularly stressful day and the weed smell was really not helping.

"Mum- I..." Gerard was caught like a deer in the headlights, and reckoned getting hit by a truck was the preferable option right now, but the safety of metaphor never quite brought that kind of reassuring consequence. "I..." And there was not a single word in Gerard Way's vocabulary that could quite stretch to explain the situation to his poor old mother.

Frank was left in the rather awkward situation of just sitting there: red cheeked and cross legged, trying to come off the least like an asshole as possible and praying that Mrs Way wasn't one of those mothers who would strangle him and exorcise him without a second's thought.

"Please don't tell me that's weed I smell, I mean, Mikey, kind of would expect this from, but you’re the oldest, you're supposed to be sensible and mature, and not kiss random guys in my living room, for god's sake, Gerard-" She shook her head, pausing for a moment, before making her way into the living room.

"It wasn't him with the weed, okay." Frank sighed out, piping up and ready to get slapped for it - by someone, anyone, but perhaps, just maybe, Gerard Way did stupid things to his head and maybe that was just something he was stuck with accepting.

Mrs Way raised her eyebrows in Frank's direction, not sure quite what to make of the boy, which the first impression she'd had of was seeing him kissing her eldest son. "Do explain."

"It was Mikey, well me too, but Gerard doesn't do drugs, I promise you that - he's a massive loser, everyone knows that." Gerard couldn't help but consider shoving Frank for that 'massive loser' part, but he knew that now was really not the time.

"Mikey's not here, is he?" Mrs Way sighed out, and Frank got up, meeting her eye level, and really, Gerard was just about to punch himself in the face here as he got up too.

"Frank, please-" He tried, he really did, but Frank made it all too evident that he wasn't at all interested, and that he was prepared to go down like a fucking idiot for Gerard.

"Mikey was here, look... it's really complicated, Mrs Way, I'm sorry... I. Look, Mikey and his friend Pete were here first and they were the ones with the weed and then I came over a little later to see Mikey, and weed was involved, and Gerard came home at an entirely different point - he had absolutely nothing to do with the drugs, I promise you, Mrs Way." Frank sighed out, past the point of even wondering just why he was doing this at this point. "Mikey and Pete left after Gerard arrived."

"Why?" She asked, looking between the two of them, still unsure as to just what to make of this 'Frank'.

"Because Mikey knows how I feel about Gerard and he was just being an asshole about it." Frank sighed out, biting down on his lip and making a point to look everywhere but Gerard's direction.

"What-" Gerard jerked up at that, eyes widening, but Mrs Way most certainly did not have the time for this. 

"Okay, fine. I'm getting Mikey home right now. I'd appreciate it if you could stay here... Frank, was it?" She sighed out, glancing between her son and what she assumed was his boyfriend once again.

Frank nodded in response. "Okay." He exhaled loudly as Mrs Way turned away, pulling out her cellphone and calling Mikey, presumably.

"Why the hell did you do that, Frank?" Gerard's voice came out in a hushed shriek, as he pulled Frank away into the corner. "You've just got yourself involved and my mum's going to hate you now and Mikey's going to hate me now, look it'd be better if I was just grounded for a few weeks, okay?"

"What? And get in trouble for something that wasn't even you?" Frank exclaimed, grabbing Gerard by the hands. "That's ridiculous - you're being fucking ridiculous, Gerard." He sighed out, pulling his gaze away from the seventeen year old.

"No, I'm just being sensible about this, look I haven't got time for this mess right now, I- I just- hey, what did you even mean when you said Mikey knew how you felt about me?" Gerard grabbed Frank by the wrist at that point, forcing their gazes to meet as he became certain in the fact that he would no longer accept silence as an answer.

"I told him. Because this is all too much with you: it's all head over heels and staring at you when I think you're not looking, and I want to kiss you all the time, Gerard, this just wasn't enough- look, I can't take this... I'm not good with being rejected and I'm not at all comfortable with my sexuality or who I am, but you're so at ease with yourself, and that's just fucking amazing, you're fucking amazing, Gerard, and I just can't help but feel how I feel about you."

Frank sighed out, considering the easiest way to kill himself in the next few seconds, and soon finding that no such easy exit solution was possible: he couldn't take his words back, and perhaps, just for once, he'd have to face his own mistakes.

"Why the bloody hell did you tell Mikey, though? And why did he not tell me?" Gerard exclaimed, pulling away from Frank: his head racing - thinking about why he should kiss Frank, and why he shouldn't, and always about just how his mum was in the other room.

This really wasn't the best time for this, to say the least.

"Because have you not thought for one tiny little second, Gerard Way, that not everything's about you?" Frank sighed out, pulling away and giving up in nothing more than a perfect display of a pathetic teenage boy's hormones overriding his thoughts.

"Fuck you, Iero. Fucking fuck you."

Gerard pulled away, ignoring Frank and making his way into the kitchen, standing beside his mother, who was leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the back door for Mikey's return.

"Gerard..." She sighed out, not at all sure as to what she could even begin with.

"Look, please, just don't get Mikey into too much trouble for this, he's going to hate me for snitching and I just can't deal with that right now, I've got too much, mum, I've got-" She didn't quite let her son finish, catching Frank's gaze in the doorway: something that Gerard hadn't quite noticed.

"It's Frank. You love him, that's obvious, he feels that way about you too. It's all obvious, okay. I know, I know that I don't exactly approve of homosexuality and I'd rather you were happy with a girl, but that's not you, Gerard, you've been through so much, and the only thing I want of you right now is you happy. He's going to make you happy." Mrs Way sighed, wondering just how on earth she'd made her way to this from walking in and smelling weed.

"But I'm scared, I messed everything up - I already know how he feels, but this is messed up, mum. Okay, he's got a girlfriend, but-... I... not really, I... and I can't... I just can't... I can't do this..." And before Gerard even got the chance to cry, Frank's arms were around him, and the seventeen year old let the sixteen year old pull him into his chest as Frank and Gerard's mother shared a glance: an 'I trust you' kind of thing, and Frank reckoned he'd done pretty good considering the circumstances.

"Gerard, come on, you're okay, please don't cry." Frank whispered the words to the seventeen year old overgrown emo baby he held against his chest, trying not to think about the stains he'd receive as Gerard's eyeliner ran.

"I'm sorry." Gerard sighed out, forcing his head against Frank's chest, nuzzling his neck a little, and it was nearly flirting, and they were kind of okay, but not really, and really, Gerard just needed to get better at lying to himself, or just living without lying to Frank Iero in a miniskirt, because, like this, he was going to kill himself for sure.

And before Gerard even got the chance to relax in Frank's arms, Mikey was making his way inside with the world's biggest scowl on his face, because, god, he was not happy to be busted for weed for the fucking second time.

"So, Mikey, an explanation?" Mrs Way made her way over to her youngest son, eyebrows raised as she directed him to the living room: still pungent with the smell of weed. "About this smell and about what I've heard."

"So, Gerard just gets out of everything because he's got a sob story and the drama skills to bring it to life?" Mikey snapped, glaring in his brother's direction, and leaving Frank very much startled in the middle as he found himself torn between one of his best friends and the boy he loved, but the boy who wouldn't admit, for some godforsaken reason, that he loved Frank back.

"It was your weed - both Frank and Gerard have said so." Mrs Way made it clear that she wasn't taking any shit with a stern glance in her son's direction. "Any explanation as to why you thought smoking weed in my living room was a good idea?"

"It was Pete's idea." Mikey shrugged it off, avoiding his mother and all the blame he could - it wasn't working, of course, but nothing was going to stop Mikey Way from trying, even fucking common sense. "You weren't supposed to come home this early."

"You weren't supposed to be smoking weed in the first place, come on, was the first time not enough?" She sighed out, making her way back into the kitchen and leaving Mikey to follow her. "Come on, hand over whatever you've got on you."

Mikey only shrugged it off, taking a seat and scowling at Frank as he continued to hold his now only sniffling brother against his chest: Gerard's head was still spinning, and he reckoned that he wouldn't be able to function with Frank holding him like this for a good few hours now.

"Come on, Mikey, I'm not an idiot." She sighed out, and Mikey eventually gave in, digging in his pockets and handing her a little bag of weed. "What I'm supposed to do with this, I just don't know."

"Keep it for when you really need it - basically, when he does this again." Frank couldn't help but add, leaving Mrs Way to decide that she liked Frank Iero, and Mikey Way to decided that he hated the sixteen year old: sure, he was allowed to like his brother, but actually be on his side and get this cosy with him? No, that was not allowed; he was Mikey's friend.

"Oh, yeah, Iero, because you're the perfect angel boy, aren't you? Name one person you haven't slept with? Name one drug you haven't done?" Mikey decided the only sensible way to deal with this situation was, of course, taking it out on Frank.

"I haven't slept with you, Mikey. I haven't done heroin. Are you happy, or do you need to make other people look bad any more?" Frank sighed out, leaving Mrs Way unsure as to whether she should be intervening or not.

"Look, can we just leave this? Mikey you're grounded for two weeks - just quit the whole drug thing, okay, it makes you look like an idiot and you're going to be dead by thirty." She sighed out, Mikey rolling his eyes and making his way upstairs to be incredibly edgy and angsty as he blasted music loud enough to ensure that everyone suffered enough hearing damage to fuck them over with healthcare bills.

"Frank, you can stay for dinner if you want or whatever. I'm going to go do some gardening, okay?" Mrs Way sighed out, finally taking her coat off as she made her way out into the garden leaving Gerard and Frank alone for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Are you okay?" Frank was the first to break the silence.

Gerard didn't answer his question, but he was by no means silent either, meeting the sixteen year old's gaze, and saying the three words that would mean so much more than anything ever had before. "I love you."

-

Of course, to Mikey Way, the word 'grounded' meant absolutely nothing.

Other words included in the list of words that meant nothing to Mikey Way: secret, taken, lesbian, and many others, since it was well, Mikey.

It hadn't even been at all difficult to sneak out that night: his mother had gone straight to bed after having dealt with far too much today, and Gerard had locked himself in his bedroom to go have an existential crisis of some sort that was incredibly likely to relate, somehow, to Frank Iero.

Mikey was beyond tried of hearing about Frank Iero and especially of the asshole throwing him in the shit, and just for the sake of getting fucking brownie points with Mikey's fucking brother, who was stupid enough to keep fucking himself over here.

Mikey was just about certain in the fact that Gerard was nothing more than an absolute idiot - sure, he got good grades and sure he managed, but when it came to the things that mattered, to him at the very least, he was nothing short of the world's biggest fucking embarrassment.

And the fifteen year old just didn't know if he should be feeling sorry for Frank or Gerard here, or just whatever fucked up bearded dude in the sky had to watch their every awkward and screwed up interaction.

Maybe he should just burn all of Gerard's fucking miniskirts and force his brother to grow some fucking balls for once, but really, Mikey just didn't do nice things to assholes who got him grounded, even if grounded did mean absolutely nothing to him: punishment was like shitty birthday presents - it was the thought that counted.

His mother had tried to keep him from having fun, but the bottle of wine he grabbed from the freezer on his way out was nothing more than a big old 'fuck you' to everyone and everything, and really just some motivation for Pete to actually get out of his fucking house.

And throwing rocks at Pete's window was just what Mikey would call a little too gay.

Of course, sneaking out to see him? Nope, nothing gay about that. Totally heterosexual, yes. Why anyone would even suspect the slightest whiffs of homosexuality here was genuinely beyond him.

So, just like his brother, and really everyone else, Mikey Way was a fucking idiot, and this whole night would be nothing more than a source for that idiocy to thrive upon.

-

"This isn't even nice wine - fucking fuck you, Mikey Way." Pete's words were already beginning to slur, and Mikey was already beginning to find so much more interest in his cellphone as the two teenagers made their way across the park in the dark: navigating via the flashlight on Mikey's phone, because really, they were fucking hardcore.

"And yet you're still drinking it." Mikey highlighted the obvious, his tone beyond sarcastic, but Pete was too tipsy to notice and too much of himself to care - their friendship really did work, most of the time at the very least: when Alicia Simmons wasn't involved, basically.

Mikey couldn't help but notice just how much better his life had gotten since Alicia had fucked off to his brother, but that wasn't something he was ever going to stoop to the level of admitting, because he wasn't going to let Gerard think that he could just steal his friends like that, especially his girlfriend, even though he was gay, Gerard still fucking stole her, kind of. Well, Mikey was more than prepared to blame it on his brother, so in his mind, he very well did.

"It's alcohol. Of course I am - don't be fucking stupid." Pete giggled like an idiot, taking a swig, offering it to Mikey only momentarily, and not even bothering to hide how fucking pleased he was when Mikey shook his head: he'd be fucked if his mother caught him coming back, let alone if she caught him coming back drunk. "Have you decided if you're going to fuck the girl yet?"

Mikey only shrugged in response as the two of them made their way to the kids park, sitting down on the swings, and Mikey tried his best not to make a big deal of rolling his eyes as Pete continued to cling to the wine bottle like a young child and their teddy bear, as he got on the swing.

"You're going to smash that bottle and I am not taking you to hospital at fucking midnight, okay, you got that, Pete?" Mikey found himself in an oddly maternal position for just a few seconds as he finally convinced Pete to put the bottle down, leaving him to grin up at his best friend like an absolute fucking idiot.

"But what if I was dying, Mikey?" And he continued deadly fucking serious, yet with a tone similar to one of a fucking five year old.

"Then maybe, just maybe, I'd reconsider, but only if you were really dying." Mikey sighed out, wishing Pete would just quit with the stupid questions - he didn't sneak out at midnight for no reason, well he kind of did, but he wasn’t going to admit that any time soon: Mikey had an angsty, hardcore, 'no one understands me' facade to maintain.

"What if I just felt like dying?" Pete sighed out, alcohol affecting his words, but not drowning them out completely.

"Pete, what the fuck are you saying here?" Mikey jumped a little at that, watching as Pete almost seemed to shrug the whole idea off completely, leaving the sober of the two to leave the thoughts lingering at the back of his mind, as he could never quite forget a single word his best friend said.

And just like that, Pete turned away, and this was silence, and even this time without the help of alcohol.

And Mikey started to think that he should have gone to that party tonight instead, even if it was a fucking shitty party and even if he did fucking hate the girl hosting it. He'd probably even get laid there, but now with too much silence and not enough alcohol, Pete Wentz had became the world's biggest cryptic little shit with the power to break the whole world's heart.

"Do you love this girl or is it just a fuck thing?" Pete broke the silence with irrelevance, and at first, Mikey was just so grateful that they were speaking again that he didn't even stop to overlook the sudden change of subject.

"Probably just a fuck thing - she'll probably ensure that. I wouldn't mind dating her, I guess, but she's not the kind of girl, and I'm still kind of fucked up from when you fucked Alicia."

"I didn't fuck Alicia." Pete protested for the seven hundredth time.

"Can you just say you did, because it makes me feel better?" And here was that classic fifteen year old Mikey Way logic once again.

"What the fuck?" Pete stopped for a moment; because he was nowhere near drunk enough to actually make sense of this, and it was easily doubted that he ever would be. "Explain to me how that works."

"Because then she cheated on me, and then I don't feel like the asshole. And I do, I feel like the fucking asshole. I'm always the asshole, Pete - surely that isn't fair." Mikey sighed out, confessing too much for the one who hadn't been drinking. "I'm an asshole though, I just am, aren't I? My head's fucking fucked - just tell me what to believe - tell me who I am, tell me who I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to feel."

"Don't fuck the girl." Pete sighed out, swinging a little as he did so, and Mikey was just praying like hell that this wasn't going to be the start of the second excessive and unexplained silence.

"Why?"

"Because it'll fuck you up and it'll fuck me up too and not everything's about fucking cute girls is it? For me, especially, not everything is about fucking cute girls." Pete was really nearing the fucking line here, and it was just the alcohol that had him tipsy enough to just about tip over it.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Mikey sighed out, soon deeming it easier just to ignore Pete altogether: he was drunk, and Mikey should have been drunk too, and it was midnight, and Mikey was only here for the sake of rebelling and that prided teenage angst. "You're too fucking drunk, you know. I'm bringing you ribena next time."

"I'm not drunk, Mikey, I'm just-" Pete stopped, exhaling all too loudly and meeting his best friend's gaze for entirely longer than necessary, but maybe, just maybe, he didn't care. "Mikey, you're not an asshole. But you could be one if you act like an asshole now."

"Pete what the hell are you saying?" Mikey watched as Pete got up from the swing, knocking the wine bottle over in the process: it was empty now, and Mikey couldn't quite decipher as to whether that was for the better or the worse.

"Not everything's about fucking cute girls, I mean, for me, sometimes, just sometimes, it's about fucking cute boys too." And silence, silence like never fucking before, and heartbeats: louder than ever before, and gazes that met too much and too little at the same time. It was like clockwork, but still out of time.

Mikey's heart was heavy, Pete's was heavier.

"Fucking hell, everyone's fucking gay." And that was not the worst reaction Pete could have received, not the best, of course, but judging by the fact that this was Mikey, he did pretty damn good as far as reactions go.

"So you're okay with that?" Pete sighed out; blushing and grinning like a fucking idiot, as Mikey could do nothing more than roll his eyes.

"My brother's the world's biggest faggot - I've hardly got all that much choice here, have I?" Mikey exaggerated his words, leaving Pete feeling the world's biggest fucking idiot, but the world's happiest, biggest fucking idiot.

Because he cared far too much about Mikey Way, and his stupid fucking opinion and his stupid fucking smile.

"I'm only bi though, I guess anyway. I still like girls though-"

"Yeah, I fucking know what bisexual is, Pete - I'm not a fucking idiot - sit the fuck back down, alright. Stop making this a big deal, it really isn't." Mikey sighed out, shaking his head, and generally unable to stop himself wondering as to just how much of this was down to that bottle of wine that he prayed his mother would notice going missing: if she did, well, Mikey just had to try his best to blame that on Gerard before inevitably admitting defeat.

"But it is." Pete sighed out, kicking the floor with the toes of his sneakers, and Mikey was beyond done with the asshole by now, but he listened nonetheless, because Pete was his best friend for a reason.

Admittedly, that reason was the fact that he introduced him to Alicia last year, but whatever, it was a reason nonetheless.

"And how exactly is that, Pete?" Mikey sighed out, forcing eye contact with his best friend.

"Because, I like a guy, and I really like him, and he doesn't like me, he doesn't even like guys and it's- it's what makes me feel like dying on the inside-"

"I'm not calling a fucking ambulance, Romeo, look come on, we'll talk about this in the morning - I'm tired." Mikey exhaled, standing up and pulling Pete off the swing by his head, leaving an awkward moment between the two where they stood just too close together as they met one another's eyes.

And it was down to the fucking alcohol that Pete lost his balance, and somehow, of course, not intentionally, his lips ended up on Mikey's.

And in the dark: they blew up in a bright light.

But not like fireworks, this was a ticking time bomb, and it had just exploded.

-

hey guys<3 I'd call this an interesting chapter to say the least but whatever, votes and comments would be lovely. I love you all<3