"Kiss me." Gee uttered, eyes all open wide and innocent, lashes dark with smudges of mascara that are slowly fading down into his snow white skin, and Frank reckoned he looked like some sort of pageant queen like that, perhaps all he needed was some sort of fucking feather boa, not that Frank would want his boyfriend in anymore clothes right now - that would be nothing but counter productive, of course.

"What's the magic word?" Frank teased, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as his boyfriend pulled Frank closer, meeting his eyes and everything was magic and sparks, and nothing else quite seemed to matter, and Frank didn't even feel embarrassed about the possibility of fucking Gee when Lindsey was just in the other room.

"Asshole." Gee muttered, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend, wondering just how on earth he'd ended up here, and of course, never regretting a single thing.

"Not quite right, I was going for please, but-" Frank didn't quite get the chance to finish before Gee crashed their lips together, pushing Frank back down onto the bed with the impact, and the seventeen year old couldn't help but smile into the kiss before reciprocating and missing the lipgloss taste on Gee's now natural lips.

"Did I ever tell you that you're perfect?" Gee mumbled out as they pulled away and lay beside Frank in bed, their pinkie fingers linked, leaving Gee feeling like a fifteen year old girl, and Frank trying his best not to embarrass himself with the blush that was clinging to his cheeks like some kind of toxic, karma ridden, wildfire.

"Shut up, I'm far from perfect, I tell you." Frank nuzzled his face into Gee's side; blush insistent upon refusing to leave his cheeks. "You, on the other hand, that is surely a different matter."

"Don't be a hypocrite, Frankie, darling." He uttered. The pitch of his voice rising in an amusingly feminine manner as he spoke, and Frank didn't even try to suppress the giggle that begged for escape from his lips.

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes, smirking shamelessly as he moved to sat on Gee's hips, grinning wildly at the gasp his boyfriend let out as Frank chose to press himself down dangerously close to his crotch.

"Jesus...." Gee exclaimed as Frank began to grind down a little. "What was all this about de-stressing my asshole?" He brought back Frank's words from earlier with a smile, gracing his lips in a manner that Frank simply could not say no to.

"Something you'll have to earn, Gee." Frank reckoned he enjoyed teasing his boyfriend all too much, but he reckoned he enjoyed fucking him so much more, but Gee would indeed have to see just how patient he could be. "You gonna be good, huh?"

"How about you stop being such a goddamn tease, huh?" Gee offered a suggestion, but he knew Frank wouldn't be all that inclined to listen to him, unless... unless, hmm...

And before Frank could recognise what was happening, Gee was pushing Frank off his hips and making his way over to his boyfriend, the two of them kind of half sat down, half kneeling next to each other as the seventeen year old watched all wide eyes as Gee ran his hands up under the Frank's shirt, the cold touch against shine letting shameless little moans trail from Frank's lips, littered with perfect construed obscenities, powering Gee's hands on up Frank's skin, ridding him of his shirt, and discarding it upon the floor of Lindsey's spare room, leaving the seventeen year old shirtless, and smirking down at his boyfriend, as he mimicked Gee's action, leaving the two of them shirtless, and intentions of the night before them out in the open.

It was as Gee ran his hands down, palming at what was now a bulge in Frank's jeans, considering just how long he would tease him, before putting his lips to Frank's dick, but everything seemed to stop all of sudden: slow motion as Frank gripped Gee's sides a little too tightly, pulling him up and running his eyes down his boyfriend's figure, and it was only then did Gee let his gaze follow Frank's, his eyes meeting the marks and bruises littered across his hips - the work of none other than Bert McCracken.

"He did that to you, didn't he?" Frank spat out, fuelled with anger and hatred for the guy that had done such a horrible thing to his boyfriend, and he swore that the urge to kill that guy was getting all the more tempting by the second.

Gee could only nod in response, biting his lip, nervously awaiting Frank's response.

"You don't deserve that, okay?" Frank whispered his words into the crook of Gee's neck as he wrapped his arms around him, and it was then that the twenty five year old's heart seemed to spark back into life as he considered how on earth he'd ever gotten this lucky, and what on earth he'd done to deserve someone like Frank.

"I love you so fucking much." Gee whispered against Frank's skin, a smile pulling at his lips as he felt his boyfriend's hands making their way up his back and up into the messy, dark locks of his hair, and his stomach didn't even have time to release its newest horde of butterflies before Frank's lips were on his once again, and right now, he really felt like he could fly.

It seemed however, that the connection of their lips provided no distraction for Frank's hands, making their way down Gee's torso, perhaps lingering teasingly for just a little longer than necessary over his nipples, before reaching his waistline, ignoring the marks that asshole had made, and going for Gee's zipper, laughing at how unaccustomed Frank was to his boyfriend wearing something that wasn't a skirt.

Gee pulled away with a moan, collapsing back against the mattress, his knees up in the air and his legs spread as Frank pushed down against his bulge, pulling his zipper down and then his jeans, discarding them on Lindsey's floor with a continued disregard for what she'd hear of what they were about to do.

And before Gee could even think in anything but fragmented moans, and a smile to grace his lips, Frank's lips were at his tip, and Frank was just about to melt on the spot with those beautiful little, deer in the headlights esque eyes with which Gee met his gaze - there was no doubt in Frank's mind, that Gee was absolutely beautiful.

-

Pete found himself sat in that park again, and although his body was there, his mind was most certainly a million miles away, his mind backtracking through every bad decision he'd ever made, and how admitting the truth to Frank was most definitely his worst decision by far, because right now, he knew there wasn't a doubt in the fact that Frank was going to go straight to Mikey and tell him everything he had said; he should have known Frank valued his friendship with Mikey more than he did with him.

But Pete was wrong, because he didn't; right now Frank wondered if he valued his friendship with Mikey for anything, because really, he'd simply been nothing more than an asshole.

Another thing that Pete found himself being wrong about was being alone, and such a fact was certified as another boy sat down beside him and Pete could only pull his gaze to meet the boy's with widened eyes at the boy's tear stained face that was badly hidden behind a fringe.

"M-Mikey..." The word came out like a stutter, almost as if Pete was nothing but afraid to utter it, his gaze frozen in shock at the boy in front of him.

"Hey..." Mikey pulled his lips into a weak smile in response, the tears upon his cheeks affirming that he was in no way happy, but somehow, for some reason, he was making an effort, and he was making an effort for Pete Wentz. "I'm sorry." He pulled out his next words all haphazard and fractured like he didn't quite trust himself not to mess things up again, as he had all too often before.

"Sorry?" Pete found himself choking over the words that Mikey had uttered, their eyes connecting in a manner that he wanted to slap himself over, because no, it just wasn't like that, and he was stupid to even consider the possibility. 

"I've been an asshole." Mikey admitted what just about the entire world had affirmed as the truth, and Pete tried his best not to utter back some kind of sarcastic comment and fuck things up all over again, but somehow, God had allowed him to manage it.

"It's okay."

And then it was just silence and smiles as neither of the two quite dared to ask the other just what they were doing here and why, mostly for fear of the 'and what about you?' that would be sure to follow, because that was just a question neither felt like they could answer.

"I thought you hated me." Pete didn't quite intend to let the words pass as anything more than a thought, but it seemed like this was a topic that God found himself disagreeing on, and Mikey seemed startled by the certainty with which his words were brought into existence.

"I'm sorry." Mikey repeated, his eyes falling to the ground and almost wishing himself away but from the moment he saw Pete sat out here, he just couldn't leave him there: he owed him an apology, after all. But even as he now as he had given Pete that apology, he'd just quite bring himself to walk away, because their air between them was all so obviously stale and their was a terrible silence that neither of them could quite bring themselves to fill.

"My parents shouted at me and threatened to kick me out because I stood up for my brother..." Mikey offered an answer without a question, but it was the question he knew was stuck at the front of Pete's mind, but he just wasn't quite brave enough to speak it aloud. "That's why I'm crying: I know you're wondering."

"Your parents are fucking assholes." Pete exclaimed, stopping himself as he soon realised that he stepped out of line a little an that Mikey and him were not friends. "I'm sorry- I..."

"Yeah, they are." Mikey finished with a smile; he wanted Pete to accept him and he wanted the two of them to be okay, but he couldn't blame Pete for not feeling the same, especially after all he'd said and done to the poor guy. "Sometimes I wish I could just leave like he did, because he's twenty five and he lives with his friends, and I'm stuck here in a world I just can't escape."

"I know how you feel." Pete nodded as he spoke, thinking of his parents and how far they expected him to go in life, when all he wanted to be in was some shitty punk band and play bass and perhaps make Mikey Way smile some time, and perhaps in his wildest dreams, kiss him too.

"And then you have this perfect idea of reality, but it just doesn't happen, and sometimes you feel like it's you, because you're doing nothing, but when you think about it, you realise that there's nothing you could do about it, and that everything is just hopeless, because reality and what you want is just worlds away."

"Not necessarily." Pete added, raised eyebrows and looking at Mikey like he most definitely didn't want to kiss him and that he most definitely wasn't overjoyed that Frank hadn't been able to find him to tell him everything yet.

"What do you mean?" Mikey asked with little spurts of nervous laughter as he tried his best not to stare at the boy next to him.

"I want to play bass in a band some day, I reckon that if I work hard enough, if I actually find people to be in my band, that something like that could work some day." He passed Mikey Way a smile that didn't read 'if I'm in a band please be my groupie'.

"I don't know what I want to do with my life... I'm not good at anything apart from being an asshole and fucking things up." Mikey admitted, meeting Pete’s eyes as he spoke. "Again, I'm sorry."

"Stop saying it - I told you it's okay. They're just words, you know, actions always speak louder than words, Mikey." He paused, all heavy heart and breath he could quite get into his lungs. "If you're going to say something you have to actually do it."

"Yeah, actions do speak louder than words."

And Pete swore that right now would be a perfect moment to kiss him, but this was Mikey Way, and he was Pete Wentz, he knew where they stood and who they were, and the reality that this night was nothing more than a one off, so he didn't, just to ensure he'd never have to live in regret of his stupid teenage hormones.

Mikey, however... Mikey wasn't quite so sure.

-

"Fuck... Frankie... please..." His moans came all at once, strung with high pitch and certainly not foreign to the odd profanity, his head pushing back against the pillows at the headboard, the bed shoving into the back wall with a bang to cringe at as Frank thrusted in, eliciting a moan that he wouldn't doubt if the neighbours could hear from here.

Gee's hair was spread out across the white pillows like an inky black mess, strewn with beads of sweat and hot breath as his makeup ran in black smudges down his pretty little face, and Frank definitely couldn't stop now, pushing his boyfriend's raised knees further apart and raisin them to lift them over his shoulders, exposing Gee further as he slammed in hard, smirking and moaning at the way it affected the twenty five year old, spread out and exposed on the sheets for him - it was certainly a wondrous sight, to say the least.

"Please, god, please, just, Frankie, please-" He let out shameless moans as they ignored the slam of the front door as Lindsey made an excuse to get out of her apartment and not force herself to listen to her friends fucking in the guestroom, perhaps Frank even felt a little sorry, but right now, it seemed that consideration for Lindsey was the least of his concerns right now.

And the seventeen year old only thought in degrees of just how explicitly beautiful his boyfriend looked like this, moaning and begging for him, and how nothing else quite seemed to matter but the two of them and the rhythm at which Frank slammed in, Gee's body shaking at the feeling, slamming his arms back against the headboard, swearing and moaning in one as Frank went harder this time, feeling that the both of them were close, and wanting to watch Gee's face as he came: all wide hazel eyes, pretty lashes with smudged mascara, white cheeks heated and fuzzy pink, mouth dropped in an 'o' formation, noises and moans of all calibre released from his lips with an utter disregard for dignity.

"Fu-.... come for me you little bitch!" Frank exclaimed, pushing in with such force that he fell down against Gee, his hands falling into the mattress as he supported himself over his boyfriend and let go at the sight of him, as he screamed, as he screamed out his name, and everything felt like falling and flying at the same time.

"Cumslut." Gee let out a little giggle as Frank fell back onto the bed beside his boyfriend, spent, and seeing stars, white stains on their sheets ignored, left for only teasing comments between the two of them.

"Piss off..." Frank mumbled, burying his face in the pillows, craving a smoke, but not thinking it quite the time as his boyfriend's chest was still stained and messy with his own come.

"You wanna lick up this mess you caused?" Gee grinned, gesturing to the mess on his chest, pulling his hands up to the headboard to support his head as he came to wonder just how he ever got this goddamn lucky.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Beat me to it, though, didn't you?" Gee couldn't help but smirk, grabbing a dark shirt off the floor, using to wipe the mess off his chest, with little regard for whoever would have the misfortune of washing this shit.

"Hey, that's my shirt, asshole!" Frank exclaimed, making a grab for the dark cloth that Gee had reached for on the bedroom floor, before the thought that actually he might not want it back crossed his mind. "Whatever..." He rolled his eyes, running a hand through the messy bed hair Gee had run his fingers through. "Give me a smoke, Gee?"

"Hmm... You've been quite rude to me, you know, Frankie..." He let a smirk toy at the corners of his lips as he opened the packet of cigarettes he'd left on the bedside table, placing one between his lips and lighting it, watching Frank's jealous gaze with nothing more than a smirk. "Suck me off and you can have one."

"We've literally just had sex." Frank exclaimed, rolling his eyes, more annoyed with the fact that he had to work for a smoke in the first place than the kind of work he was being asked to do, because really, this was the kind of thing where the initiative was within itself.

"Fine."

Frank barely caught the packet of Marlboro, it landing awkwardly between his wrists, before he let it drop upon the mattress, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it, before throwing the packet back at his boyfriend, and hitting him in the back of the head.

"Bullseye!"

"Asshole." Gee rolled his eyes, putting the fallen contents back into the packet before returning it and the lighter to their original positions on the bedside table, turning back to Frank, cellphone in hand.

"Mikey keeps texting me." He commented, his voice almost void of emotion, his eyes glued firm to the overly bright screen of the device as he contemplated replying, cigarette held at the side of his mouth as he spoke. 

Frank checked his phone, grabbing it from the pocket of his jeans, "Ray's tried to call me twice now- oh, three times, and he’s fucking calling me again right now."

"It's probably important then - answer it." Gee stressed, as if it was the obvious option.

"You're okay with that? I mean, he knows-"

"Of course I am, your friends come before your boyfriend, answer him, asshole."

"If you text your brother back."

"Fine."

Accept.

And Ray's voice: words coming out all at voice and perhaps even loud enough that Gee could hear without the phone even being on loudspeaker, not that Frank would ever trust his asshole of a boyfriend with such a thing.

He glanced across at Gee, fingers hovering over his phone, pressing down on the keys almost gingerly as if replying to his brother was something dangerous, something wit the power to affect his whole life.

Frank could laugh all he wanted; he hadn't seen the messages.

-

"Frank, why haven't you picked up, seriously? It could have been important, and you know what? It is!" Ray knew he came off like some sort of nagging mother, but he continued in his words, knowing them to be important as hell; the shaking figure in the corner of his bedroom certainly confirmed that.

"Ray, I was havingsex, I was kind of preoccupied, you know, but whatever, what's the big dilemma?" Frank brushed it off with an air of casually annunciated words and eyes that watched his boyfriend all too intently, because something was wrong: Gee knew it and Frank knew it too, and from the sound of Ray's voice on the phone, Frank wouldn't be all that surprised if he wasn't also aware of the trouble that had been stricken.

"With him, I presume... Frank..." Ray shook his head as he spoke, glancing over to Mikey in the corner of the room; perhaps he would have emphasised the fact that Frank had just slept with Mikey's brother, that would be if Mikey wasn't the one currently freaking out in Ray's bedroom.

"Not the time, seriously what did you call me for?" Frank grew angry with his curly haired friend that should be thankful that he was down the phone line and not sat beside Frank with their conversation in person, as Frank was really considering slapping him right now.

"Mikey." Frank rolled his eyes, of course; of course it had to be fucking Mikey. "Yeah, he did something stupid and he's kind of having a mental breakdown right now, can you please come help, because seriously, I can't get through to him."

"Why am I always the one who has to sort out people's shit?" Frank couldn't help but cast his mind back to Gee crying and shaking, and Lindsey who'd called Jamia, who'd dragged him to fix his boyfriend, not that he'd minded all that much; he most certainly preferred his boyfriend to school, but with Mikey that wasn't the case, and with the look on Gee's face, things just seemed wrong.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'll come over." Frank hung up.

"Gee-"

"Yeah, I know. Mikey's had a freak-out about his sexuality and blamed me for it, pretty much going back on every apology he gave me. Should've seen it coming: he's an asshole and I'm goddamn stupid, but go on, comfort him, he's your friend more than I'm your boyfriend, because I'm not Gee to you, am I? I'm just Mikey's brother, Mikey fucking Way's brother, and with what his parents are saying, maybe anymore, I'm not even that."

"It's not like that-" Frank begged, because Gee had got it all so fucking wrong and right now they were helpless and drowning and Gee just wouldn't let Frank guide him to shore, to safety, perhaps like he even wanted to drown. And that was messed up.

"Frank, look at it!" Gee tossed his cellphone in his boyfriend's direction. "This shit proves it. There's no way Mikey and I can just be, can just be brothers and it all works out with you in the middle hiding each other from each other. You're either his friend or my boyfriend. Pick one, Frank. Stay or go."

Frank was torn: torn like a door from his hinges, unable to stop the wind further battering it down. He hated this, he hated it all, and he hated the lack of decision for him to make; neither option was good and his head was spinning right off his neck.

"I'm fucking coming back when you've calm down, and we're going to sort this out, okay?" Frank locked eyes with Gee, determined that his boyfriend was wrong, that he could be both, and that they could stay like this in secrecy, in limbo.

"Don't, you've fucking made your choice, Iero."

Gee, however, disagreed, and that hurt like fucking hell.

-

Pete wasn't crying.

Pete wasn't panicking.

Pete wasn't storming out of a boyfriend's house.

Pete wasn't offering a stupid ultimatum.

Pete wasn't dialling twice before he got an answer.

Pete didn't deal with messed up shit like that.

What Pete was however, was high.

Pete was high. As a fucking kite, in fact.

And he didn't care, he didn't fucking care, because all he saw was colours and stars and tablet he didn't know the name or risks of, and he still didn't care, and nothing mattered, especially not Mikey Way and his stupid hormones, because right now, to Pete, that hadn't happened at all, because he was too high to remember, and as stupid as he was to think such a thing, he wanted it to stay that way.

He felt like flying and fucking that gay over there who was not only at least five years older than him, but five years out of his league, and Pete forgot he had a boyfriend, and Pete forgot he had a crush, and Pete forgot that the only place he was falling too was the bathroom floor, because one second he was puking into the toilet bowl, and the next his lips were around some guy's dick and then he was puking up someone else's come into what may or may not have been the same toilet bowl.

Pete just felt back onto the floor like nothing had happened and started mumbling something completely mad about milk and bathtubs, before he passed out, and perhaps that would have been a nice way to end his night of forgetfulness, even if he would forget it when he awoke, but it seemed a certain someone had other ideas.

A slap across the face being those other ideas, and the name of that certain someone being Gabe Saporta.

And if he wasn't already by now, by that slap across the face, Pete was well and truly screwed.

"What the fuck, Pete?" His voice was screechy rage, presented in an almost feminine high pitched tone, and served with a fist on the face on the side: Gabe was pissed, no denying that.

"I... want to fuck.... yes...." Pete mumbled his words out with little understanding as to what his boyfriend had just yelled at him, how pissed off said boyfriend was, or really what was going on here at all. That all stopped at pills, and forgetting, and Mikey Way and the thing that had happened that he'd already forgotten so he couldn't possibly say anything about it, let alone offer Gabe an explanation.

"Who? Pete, who? Because there's this guy outside saying you just sucked him off and I'm like what the fuck that's my boyfriend, and he punches me in the fucking face-" Gabe's words came out faster than Pete's mind could protest, like an angry letter, each character punched with force into a typewriter.

"And then you slap me in the face, and I can barely see anything but shapes and stars and I... I think you're pretty, Gabe, real pretty, and I really want to fuck - can we fuck?" His voice turned into a plead and a beg with a mousy, sweet, innocent tone as accompaniment, and Gabe couldn't fight back the urge to punch his boyfriend square in the fucking face, because right now, he was just an asshole.

"You can go fuck... yourself, because Pete, seriously, we're done- call me when you're fucking sober, and then maybe. But you know what? This isn't a thing that's going to work and you're mediocre at best in bed, so why bother huh?" He rolled his eyes to himself, laughing in a breathy manner as if dating Pete was some sort of stupid fuck up on a comedy show and not part of his life, because Gabe reckoned that if he could walk away, then he could just forget, and he could just pretend.

Everyone needed to forget, and Gabe walked away, whereas Pete took pills until he saw the colours not the objects and couldn't remember a thing about who he was or what he was doing here.

And Gabe called Patrick on the way out, because he wasn't quite heartless, and maybe he still cared a little, but the truth was that he would never care about Pete in an 'I love you' kind of way, perhaps a 'stranger passed out on the bathroom floor of a nightclub' kind of way, but Gabe knew that as he walked out, he and Pete, just didn't know each other anymore.

Because Gabe could forget, whereas Pete would find himself on the same bathroom floor for nights as fucking Mikey Way and that stupid fucking mistake never quite left his head.

-

Patrick was all words and worries and Pete was all wide eyed and drugged up on Advil and definitely in another dimension with the way the floor seemed to not quite work, and the way that Patrick just seemed to turn off like background noise, and the whole fucking place smelt of sushi, and he couldn't quite distinguish whether this was Patrick's bedroom or his.

He went for Patrick's, because he'd never had sushi, and wondered why he even knew what it smelt like, but then again, Patrick Stump didn't exactly look like a stereotypical sushi consumer, but then again Pete wasn't quite sure what a stereotypical sushi consumer looked like, and he wondered if Patrick would stop talking so he could google it.

"...why?" 

The only word Pete heard was that, and Patrick was suddenly looking at him with all attention and wide eyes - answer expecting eyes, and Pete had no answer and his whole world was spinning and he reckoned he was just about to puke.

Pete wasn't wrong.

And Patrick's carpet stunk, but he just looked his best friend right in the eye and gave him an odd smile: he'd found the answer and everything made sense, even if the contents of his stomach was on his best friend's bedroom floor, he didn't mind, even if Patrick did.

"I needed to forget."

And Patrick, for once, didn't care, and reckoned that if he was anyone else in the world, he would not have only just given Pete a black eye, but pushed him out of the window as well, but his mum could deal with it, he guessed.

"You're a mess, Pete." Patrick could utter nothing more than the truth as his best friend sat all doe eyed on his bed with hands fumbling erratically as he muttered something about sushi and his feet twitched, but not really and he smelt of piss and come, and weed.

"He punched me, you know." he added, almost like a small child announcing something he thought the whole world should know.

"Yeah, I know. You've got a black eye - everyone’s gonna know." Patrick tried to put it the best way he could, but honestly, such a feat, was perhaps harder than he'd initially thought, but it seemed that Pete was still far too high to even be offended.

"Fuck. Then I can't forget, and I'll need to do this again, and if Gabe can forget then why can't I? It's not fucking fair, Patrick! I bet you can forget, can't you?" And it was all words and noises: sporadic, breath heavy but at least the room didn't smell of sushi anymore, but it did smell of his own vomit, and Pete didn't know what was worse, or whether he was more than indifferent to anything at all.

"Pete, calm down, please. I have no idea what's happened: Gabe called me, angry at you, telling me where you were and that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore, so I went and picked you up and you passed out in the car, but you're here now and I really can't tell when you've been conscious from, because really, you don't seem to be aware of a single word I say."

"I need to forget what happened." He continued, like Patrick had said nothing at all.

"What happened, Pete?"

And then he smiled, he really smiled.

"I don't know; I can't remember."

- 

Hey guys:) I hope you enjoyed this chapter and happy almost halloween:) I'd love it if you could leave a comment and/or a vote, and I love you all<3