(no subject)
Title: Choose [standalone]
Author: _ohholyfoolsx
Pairing: Mikey and Frank
Summary: Arguing over the radio station takes a dramatic turn for the worst and ends in catastrophe.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: untrue
Authors Notes: dedicated to ghostaeroplane for the idea and xburningcities for the beta and the help.
"Frank, shut the hell up!" Mikey slapped Frank with his free arm and flicked the station back onto The Smiths, causing a groan to escape the guitarist's lips. The car rolled along to the boring sound emitting from the radio; Mikey wore a smile on his face that Frank took as a victory smirk and changed the station back to Bouncing Souls in retaliation. Mikey glared at Frank, knowing it would be dangerous to change the station while going around a corner and waited until they reached the straight part in the road before turning it back. " DON'T change it again!" he said, his voice firm and his resolve in place, but Frank had other plans.
They'd chosen to leave the venue a while after the rest of the band, who had decided on sushi night instead of pizza-arguing night, to have some time to themselves. Mikey drove, deciding Frank was too little to see over the steering wheel.
"Hey! Not fair!" Frank said, reaching around to grab the keys and only latching onto a handful of Mikey's shirt. "Your vision is impaired, glasses boy!" Mikey took on a look of mock hurt and got into the drivers seat, locking the door on the small, green Echo Frank had rented for the weekend with him. The problem started as soon as Mikey put the key into the ignition and turned the engine over, starting the radio. Frank lunged for the tuner as soon as Mikey heard it was The Smiths. They'd been driving for at least twenty minutes and Mikey was growing irritated with Frank already.
"Can't we just agree on Glassjaw and change it to that? You spent all Warped Tour watching them." Frank said, but Mikey wasn't relenting. He argued that he was driving and he deserved to listen to what he wanted to. Frank rolled his eyes and looked out the window, his teeth on edge and his nerves already shot and they hadn't even gone through dinner yet.
Mikey rolled down his window and let the cool air into the car, tempering Frank a bit, but Mikey cranked the radio as well and all he could do was groan.
Lately Mikey had been distant, only talking when he had a question to ask. He'd mope around the bus, his iPod his only companion, listening to Vaux or Anthrax or whatever he was into at the time and it was worrying Frank as well as Gerard.
"Why did we end up doing this?" he asked one day, his head in Frank's lap while the fiesty man was trying to read. "I mean, did you ever picture yourself doing anything else?" He'd looked up at Frank inquisitively and tried to coax out an answer. "Do you like it? Is playing what you'll always do? What about when you get old? We'll all get old, I mean, but do musicians get old age pension?" he waited patiently for his answer, but Frank tried to ignore him. "Frank?"
With an angry sigh Frank threw down his book and looked at Mikey. "No, sweetie, I wanted to be a pizza delivery man when I was younger. I ended up doing this because I love it; the music, the hysteria, playing on three hours sleep, the sun, the heat, the tension we all have, the chemisty. I love it. It's the only thing I could ever do in my life, I swear. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a normal job..." his voice calmed and he sighed softly. "Would I know you? Would I know any of you? Would I still like the same music I do now? Would everything be normal? No, I don't think." he smiled down at Mikey. "I'd always have this burning passion to do it. I'd go to shows, I'd watch them and I'd be so damn wistful; I know I'd be missing out on this." he waved his arms around. "On you."
Mikey came up and sat close to him. "You're a sweetheart," standing up, he went around to the freezer and pulled out two popsicles for them. "And I agree. I can't see you ever holding a steady job." Frank grinned and opened his popsicle; enjoying the feeling of cold ice on his tongue.
The nice air went away and Mikey shivered and rolled up his window, locking The Smiths inside the car with them. It was amazing, in the past ten minutes, all the station had played was The Smiths. The happiness filling him from that memory suddenly vanished as his love for his close friend was filled with irritation.
In one movement Frank reached for the radio and Mikey reacted. The squealing of the tires and the horn on the truck didn't register in Frank's mind as the back of the car spun and his hand reached out for Mikey. His head snapped to the side and met Mikey's wide-eyed innocence and innate fear and stopped his heart cold.
It was like the first day of autumn back when he'd first met Gerard and was coming out of Pencey Prep. Gerard had decided it was time little shy Mikey had some action and wanted to stage a fake kidnapping, just for fun. Frank had come over to the house Gerard and Mikey shared, tip-toeing into Mikey's room and wrapping the blankets around his feet while Gerard attacked his upper body. Mikey started screaming, hyperventilating, though Frank knew he didn't have asthma. Gerard didn't look worried and began throwing Mikey's body back and forth, from side to side before Mikey was full blown terrified, screaming and crying and asking them not to kill him.
Laughing, Gerard pulled away the blankets and walked away. Frank sat down next to Mikey and saw the same terror and full on horror he was seeing right now. His breathing was slowed to just a breath, though that's about all the time they had left as the car tires squealed and Mikey screamed his name, eyes wide, gleaming with fear and atriocities. Frank only felt guilt and was terrified. There wasn't any time left; no time to tell Mikey his darkest secrets, no time to tell Mikey how much he loved him, no more shows with Gerard and everyone. No more kisses under the sky, or in the tour bus when Bob wasn't looking. No more sushi with the band, no more tickle fights with Mikey and Ray. Nothing. All he could whisper as they spun out of control and hit the guard
rail, breaking through it and were thrown clear of the road was,
"I should have let you choose."
Author: _ohholyfoolsx
Pairing: Mikey and Frank
Summary: Arguing over the radio station takes a dramatic turn for the worst and ends in catastrophe.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: untrue
Authors Notes: dedicated to ghostaeroplane for the idea and xburningcities for the beta and the help.
"Frank, shut the hell up!" Mikey slapped Frank with his free arm and flicked the station back onto The Smiths, causing a groan to escape the guitarist's lips. The car rolled along to the boring sound emitting from the radio; Mikey wore a smile on his face that Frank took as a victory smirk and changed the station back to Bouncing Souls in retaliation. Mikey glared at Frank, knowing it would be dangerous to change the station while going around a corner and waited until they reached the straight part in the road before turning it back. " DON'T change it again!" he said, his voice firm and his resolve in place, but Frank had other plans.
They'd chosen to leave the venue a while after the rest of the band, who had decided on sushi night instead of pizza-arguing night, to have some time to themselves. Mikey drove, deciding Frank was too little to see over the steering wheel.
"Hey! Not fair!" Frank said, reaching around to grab the keys and only latching onto a handful of Mikey's shirt. "Your vision is impaired, glasses boy!" Mikey took on a look of mock hurt and got into the drivers seat, locking the door on the small, green Echo Frank had rented for the weekend with him. The problem started as soon as Mikey put the key into the ignition and turned the engine over, starting the radio. Frank lunged for the tuner as soon as Mikey heard it was The Smiths. They'd been driving for at least twenty minutes and Mikey was growing irritated with Frank already.
"Can't we just agree on Glassjaw and change it to that? You spent all Warped Tour watching them." Frank said, but Mikey wasn't relenting. He argued that he was driving and he deserved to listen to what he wanted to. Frank rolled his eyes and looked out the window, his teeth on edge and his nerves already shot and they hadn't even gone through dinner yet.
Mikey rolled down his window and let the cool air into the car, tempering Frank a bit, but Mikey cranked the radio as well and all he could do was groan.
Lately Mikey had been distant, only talking when he had a question to ask. He'd mope around the bus, his iPod his only companion, listening to Vaux or Anthrax or whatever he was into at the time and it was worrying Frank as well as Gerard.
"Why did we end up doing this?" he asked one day, his head in Frank's lap while the fiesty man was trying to read. "I mean, did you ever picture yourself doing anything else?" He'd looked up at Frank inquisitively and tried to coax out an answer. "Do you like it? Is playing what you'll always do? What about when you get old? We'll all get old, I mean, but do musicians get old age pension?" he waited patiently for his answer, but Frank tried to ignore him. "Frank?"
With an angry sigh Frank threw down his book and looked at Mikey. "No, sweetie, I wanted to be a pizza delivery man when I was younger. I ended up doing this because I love it; the music, the hysteria, playing on three hours sleep, the sun, the heat, the tension we all have, the chemisty. I love it. It's the only thing I could ever do in my life, I swear. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a normal job..." his voice calmed and he sighed softly. "Would I know you? Would I know any of you? Would I still like the same music I do now? Would everything be normal? No, I don't think." he smiled down at Mikey. "I'd always have this burning passion to do it. I'd go to shows, I'd watch them and I'd be so damn wistful; I know I'd be missing out on this." he waved his arms around. "On you."
Mikey came up and sat close to him. "You're a sweetheart," standing up, he went around to the freezer and pulled out two popsicles for them. "And I agree. I can't see you ever holding a steady job." Frank grinned and opened his popsicle; enjoying the feeling of cold ice on his tongue.
The nice air went away and Mikey shivered and rolled up his window, locking The Smiths inside the car with them. It was amazing, in the past ten minutes, all the station had played was The Smiths. The happiness filling him from that memory suddenly vanished as his love for his close friend was filled with irritation.
In one movement Frank reached for the radio and Mikey reacted. The squealing of the tires and the horn on the truck didn't register in Frank's mind as the back of the car spun and his hand reached out for Mikey. His head snapped to the side and met Mikey's wide-eyed innocence and innate fear and stopped his heart cold.
It was like the first day of autumn back when he'd first met Gerard and was coming out of Pencey Prep. Gerard had decided it was time little shy Mikey had some action and wanted to stage a fake kidnapping, just for fun. Frank had come over to the house Gerard and Mikey shared, tip-toeing into Mikey's room and wrapping the blankets around his feet while Gerard attacked his upper body. Mikey started screaming, hyperventilating, though Frank knew he didn't have asthma. Gerard didn't look worried and began throwing Mikey's body back and forth, from side to side before Mikey was full blown terrified, screaming and crying and asking them not to kill him.
Laughing, Gerard pulled away the blankets and walked away. Frank sat down next to Mikey and saw the same terror and full on horror he was seeing right now. His breathing was slowed to just a breath, though that's about all the time they had left as the car tires squealed and Mikey screamed his name, eyes wide, gleaming with fear and atriocities. Frank only felt guilt and was terrified. There wasn't any time left; no time to tell Mikey his darkest secrets, no time to tell Mikey how much he loved him, no more shows with Gerard and everyone. No more kisses under the sky, or in the tour bus when Bob wasn't looking. No more sushi with the band, no more tickle fights with Mikey and Ray. Nothing. All he could whisper as they spun out of control and hit the guard
rail, breaking through it and were thrown clear of the road was,
"I should have let you choose."