living's just a waste of death

mental restraining order

mikey didn't run on a normal basis. but hell, he sprinted out of pete's goddamn house back to his own as fast as he could. and when he got home he was too tired to breath- let alone think about what had just happened. so he didn't.

there was a picture by the couch that mikey liked to look at whenever he was all mixed up. the picture- it was an old one, of his mom. she was pregnant in it, likely with gerard. definitely gerard. she looked too young for it to have been mikey in there.

he didn't remember her. he didn't even know what age he was when she died- young enough to not have a clue about what was going on. and there was pictures of her all over the place but gerard and their dad didn't like talking about it. so like, maybe that was why mikey had to make things up about her. like her personality and shit. but maybe he didn't understand it because he didn't miss her the way his family did.

mikey wondered what his mom would've thought about him. if she would be proud of him. he knew she would probably hate his on and off smoking and out of control messiness. but she would probably love how passionate him and gerard were about things they cared about. and mikey figured she would be accepting like his dad. she would probably give good advice, too. mikey really needed some of that.

because a while later, not until a few days later actually, mikey was fucking spiraling. he really liked pete. that much was obvious. but he had never questioned himself, what he liked- more specifically, who he liked. because he didn't like questioning it...or having to question it.

he pushed every single thought that was even remotely about another boy in anything but a platonic way to the back of his head and threw it into a dungeon of things that were forbidden. and he was cool with that. cool enough.

but now mikey was more confused then he'd ever been. and it was all pete's fault- with his pretty eyes and cool hair. but he had never thought of him like that before, did he? or did those thoughts not rise to the surface level of thinking enough for him to notice? mikey didn't know the answer to that. and his brain was really good at hiding things from him- especially things like this.

he just sat at the kitchen table glancing from the picture of his mom then down to his coffee that was probably cold by then.
thinking. just fucking thinking. about pete, about every single thing that happened. spiraling. just fucking spiraling.

he tried to think of all the times he thought of maybe kissing pete and just forgot about it because everyone thought about kissing pete wentz- mikey wasn't any different then all of them. except now he was. because pete kissed him. yeah, mikey had thought about it but pete actually did the damn thing.

and it messed everything up- totally ruined the hell out of the little thing they had going. the two of them hadn't spoken in days, which felt like much too long to pete and not long enough to mikey. pete sent a quick, two-word apology text- but the thing is, they never really texted or talked on the phone. aside from a five-second conversation that was just: "can i come over?" and then, "yeah 'course." but even that was ruined now.

ruined. all because pete actually acted on what both of them had maybe thought about at one point or another. except, one of them definitely thought about it more then the other did. but still, what was pete thinking? whatever it was must've traveled through him and made it's way to mikey. because it felt fucking cool, and mikey remembered the way he kissed back- a way he didn't even know he could. and his hands were in pete's hair and it was so cool.

but it didn't matter how cool it was because mikey wasn't actually gay. and that wasn't something he just said as a defense or excuse. no, it was the truth. it was the actual fucking truth, and just because mikey forgot that in the moment didn't make it any less true.

but did pete like him? did he like pete? he didn't even know. and he didn't think pete knew either. just- acting on instincts. mikey hoped he was just acting on instincts. he hoped both of them were.

but it was strange because they never had a point where they were getting to know each other- they just jumped straight in from being strangers to best friends.

"mikey..." he looked up at whoever called his name because sometimes he got his dad's voice confused with his brother's. it was his brother, though. "i need to tell you something, mikey." shit, that didn't sound good (great, another thing for mikey to deal with). mikey didn't ask, he just made a face like "oh no, what is it?"

"so," gerard coughed slightly, "you know how i wasn't supposed to leave for college until october? well i got a letter, something about being a bright student and starting my studies early. earlier then i planned...so i'll have to leave sooner then i was originally supposed to." he took a deep breath as soon as he finished.

"how soon?" mikey was really paying attention then- his eyes wide and taking deep breaths to match his brother. "first thing monday morning." gerard looked down so he would have to see what expression mikey made.

"but- but you-" he didn't finish whatever he wanted to say and gerard just nodded because he knew. "i know mikes, i'm sorry..." neither of them looked up at each other. "but i thought we could make the most of it while i'm here? dad said we could actually go out for dinner, and then you and i can go see a movie...the new x-men? we can ask ray and frankie around too. just to make the most of it."

mikey nodded "yeah" but nothing else because gerard always talked about college like it meant he was going to fucking die. it made mikey wonder if he even wanted to go.