MCR: Sunset Skies (Frank/Mikey)
Title: Sunset Skies
Pairing: Frank/Mikey
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: not real.
Word count: 638
Notes: ficlet written for turps33 and set in an AU 'verse she created starting with Tints of Rainbow Hue and continuing with Richard of York...(let's start anew), which you really need to read to understand this. And which you should read anyway, because it's wonderful. ♥
Mikey stops typing for a moment and tries to roll the ache out of his neck. He knows he shouldn’t be sitting like he is, leant forward over what passes for a coffee table with his laptop so low the screen has to be almost horizontal just so he can read it, but he needs to finish writing the press release for the new signing at Eyeball and he didn’t have time to do it at the office. From the kitchen he can hear a low murmur of voices accompanied by the occasional clink of china and the opening and closing of cupboard doors, and he smiles thinking about the slow, careful dance between Bob and Gerard that has Gerard cooking more often and dirtying more dishes just so Bob will have a reason to stay a little longer in the evenings. It’s dumb and it’s kind of middleschool, but it’s also sweet and it gives Mikey hope for the future that he honestly thought he’d never have.
He’s about to start typing again when the front door creaks open and he hears the sound of footsteps stomping down the hallway, stopping when Bob calls out "Frank! Boots!". Mikey hears a muttered curse, the footsteps retreating, then two dull thumps as Frank sheds his boots, then the stomping starts again, more muffled this time as Frank can’t make as much noise when he’s only wearing socks, no matter how hard he tries. Mikey watches the door to the room he’s sitting in, thinking maybe Frank will come find him but Frank doesn’t, he heads straight for the kitchen, Mikey tries not to feel too disappointed as he looks down at his laptop and starts typing again.
He’s so absorbed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t notice he has company until, suddenly, as if by magic, there’s a steaming mug of coffee on the table just by his hand. Mikey looks up and finds Frank standing on the other side of the table with a mug of his own cradled in both hands, he looks tired, his face is smudged with dirt and there’s at least half a bush of leaves caught in his hair, but he’s smiling and Mikey can’t help but smile back.
"Hi. Are you busy?" Frank looks vaguely guilty, like maybe he’s disturbing him - which, okay, he is, but Mikey doesn’t mind at all.
"No, I’m nearly done." Mikey smiles again and nods his head towards the empty space on the couch beside him, shifting over just a little so Frank can sit down. Mikey goes back to typing once Frank’s sitting beside him, he’s not got much more to do and once it’s done he can turn his attention to Frank.
Frank’s quiet, letting him work. But once he finishes his coffee, putting the mug down on the table with a happy sigh, he shuffles closer until Mikey can feel the warmth of Frank’s body pressed close against his side. Mikey types the last few words then hits save and closes the lid to his laptop. Frank shifts, pulling his legs up onto the couch and then tugs at Mikey’s arm, nudging his head underneath it until Mikey gets the hint and lifts his arm so he can drape it round Frank’s shoulders and pull him closer still. Frank mumbles, "’m tired, Ray’s a slave driver," into Mikey’s chest and Mikey can’t help but laugh a little at how pathetic Frank sounds, but he stops when Frank looks up, putting a finger to his lips saying, "shhh, Mikeyway. Snuggling." before dropping his head back down. Mikey wants to laugh again, but he doesn’t, instead he lets himself relax, feeling the ache draining out of his shoulders and neck as he carefully picks the leaves out of Frank’s hair, as Frank drifts off to sleep.
Pairing: Frank/Mikey
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: not real.
Word count: 638
Notes: ficlet written for turps33 and set in an AU 'verse she created starting with Tints of Rainbow Hue and continuing with Richard of York...(let's start anew), which you really need to read to understand this. And which you should read anyway, because it's wonderful. ♥
Mikey stops typing for a moment and tries to roll the ache out of his neck. He knows he shouldn’t be sitting like he is, leant forward over what passes for a coffee table with his laptop so low the screen has to be almost horizontal just so he can read it, but he needs to finish writing the press release for the new signing at Eyeball and he didn’t have time to do it at the office. From the kitchen he can hear a low murmur of voices accompanied by the occasional clink of china and the opening and closing of cupboard doors, and he smiles thinking about the slow, careful dance between Bob and Gerard that has Gerard cooking more often and dirtying more dishes just so Bob will have a reason to stay a little longer in the evenings. It’s dumb and it’s kind of middleschool, but it’s also sweet and it gives Mikey hope for the future that he honestly thought he’d never have.
He’s about to start typing again when the front door creaks open and he hears the sound of footsteps stomping down the hallway, stopping when Bob calls out "Frank! Boots!". Mikey hears a muttered curse, the footsteps retreating, then two dull thumps as Frank sheds his boots, then the stomping starts again, more muffled this time as Frank can’t make as much noise when he’s only wearing socks, no matter how hard he tries. Mikey watches the door to the room he’s sitting in, thinking maybe Frank will come find him but Frank doesn’t, he heads straight for the kitchen, Mikey tries not to feel too disappointed as he looks down at his laptop and starts typing again.
He’s so absorbed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t notice he has company until, suddenly, as if by magic, there’s a steaming mug of coffee on the table just by his hand. Mikey looks up and finds Frank standing on the other side of the table with a mug of his own cradled in both hands, he looks tired, his face is smudged with dirt and there’s at least half a bush of leaves caught in his hair, but he’s smiling and Mikey can’t help but smile back.
"Hi. Are you busy?" Frank looks vaguely guilty, like maybe he’s disturbing him - which, okay, he is, but Mikey doesn’t mind at all.
"No, I’m nearly done." Mikey smiles again and nods his head towards the empty space on the couch beside him, shifting over just a little so Frank can sit down. Mikey goes back to typing once Frank’s sitting beside him, he’s not got much more to do and once it’s done he can turn his attention to Frank.
Frank’s quiet, letting him work. But once he finishes his coffee, putting the mug down on the table with a happy sigh, he shuffles closer until Mikey can feel the warmth of Frank’s body pressed close against his side. Mikey types the last few words then hits save and closes the lid to his laptop. Frank shifts, pulling his legs up onto the couch and then tugs at Mikey’s arm, nudging his head underneath it until Mikey gets the hint and lifts his arm so he can drape it round Frank’s shoulders and pull him closer still. Frank mumbles, "’m tired, Ray’s a slave driver," into Mikey’s chest and Mikey can’t help but laugh a little at how pathetic Frank sounds, but he stops when Frank looks up, putting a finger to his lips saying, "shhh, Mikeyway. Snuggling." before dropping his head back down. Mikey wants to laugh again, but he doesn’t, instead he lets himself relax, feeling the ache draining out of his shoulders and neck as he carefully picks the leaves out of Frank’s hair, as Frank drifts off to sleep.