Desert song
Title: Desert song
Author: creepylicious / alles_luege
Pairing: Mikey/Adam
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This is a story about how Mikey offers Adam a ride and about stuff that just happens while they are driving through the endless desert.
Mikey brushes his fingers against his brother’s neck and then reaches out. Gerard doesn't turn around, but hands over his half-smoked cigarette anyway. Mikey takes a drag and thinks for a split second while the rest of them are waiting. He takes another drag and gets out of the car.
Warning(s): kissing, angst, Mikey centred
Author’s Notes: This fic is set in the 'Art is the weapon' video verse. I call it the 'Desert verse' already, because this is just the beginning...*headdesk* Title: My Chemical Romance.
Word Count: 2.788
Beta: allfaltering (even your beta-notes crack me up!)
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real
~1~
About Adam
~+~
Gerard sees him first, and that in itself is a rare thing - Mikey thinks. Usually it's Ray who picks out the strays. Before it used to be Bob, but Mikey isn't going there right now. It's still an open wound that refuses to heal.
Gerard turns around and looks at him: the dye on his skin looks like someone just slit his throat. It's kind of disturbing but Gerard refuses to wash it away right now.
“There's a kid sitting on the side of the road,” he says and turns back around. Franks hands him a cigarette and he nods his thanks. Mikey doesn't reply. Gerard isn't sure yet it's a good idea to take in strays and Mikey isn't going to make him.
“Stop the car,” Frank says. He doesn't look at Gerard, just stares out the window. It has a crack, Mikey notices. He doesn't think it’s been there for long, but you'll never know.
Gerard keeps his eyes on the dusty road and doesn't answer. He takes another drag of his smoke and exhales slowly. It's kind of a question.
“Stop the car,” Mikey answers softly. His voice feels unused maybe because he hasn’t spoken in five days. Not a single word.
Gerard throws him a look over his shoulder but pulls over a few feet away from the kid; he doesn’t get up. Frank drums his fingers against the dashboard. Ray beside him looks out the window for a better view.
“Maybe he's dead,” Frank says after a while. Gerard doesn't flinch, but there is something... Mikey brushes his fingers against his brother’s neck and then reaches out. Gerard doesn't turn around, but hands over his half-smoked cigarette anyway. Mikey takes a drag and thinks for a split second while the rest of them are waiting. He takes another drag and gets out of the car. The door falling shut behind him sounds pretty fucking loud here in the desert.
“What the fuck are you doing?”Gerard shouts. Mikey isn't sure; he takes a final drag, flips the butt on the road and takes another step in the kid's direction. He hears the door shut a few seconds later and knows that at least Gerard left the car as well. He’s standing in front of the guy now, and, well, the kid isn't one at all. He looks up at Mikey, and he has blue eyes. Fucking clear, like water.
“You're not dead,” Mikey says, and the guy smiles.
“Feels like it on some days,” he answers.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Gerard shouts, pulling his arm so that Mikey has to face him.
“He's not dead, also not a kid,” Mikey answers. Gerard is angry.
“I don't care! He could be for all I know or worse,” Gerard says. His grip on Mikey's arm is starting to hurt. He's sure that it’ll bruise.
“Let go,” he whispers. Gerard doesn't but he loosens his grip. “Wanna get up any time soon?” he asks the guy, who is still sitting beside the road on the sand and dead grass.
“You wanna take me home?” he asks and Mikey laughs. It feels wrong and unused, but it's honest. Startled but still honest.
“I would if I had one,” he says. Gerard sighs and lets go of his arm. “I'm Mikey and that’s Gerard,” he says, because that's how his mom raised him. It doesn't matter if he has maybe to shoot that guy in a few hours. It doesn't hurt anyone to be polite.
“Adam and yeah, not a kid,” the guy says getting up. He's tall. “You're offering me a ride?”
“We could be serial killers for all you know,” Gerard says. Mikey wants to punch him.
“I could be one, too. We could swap stories or wait each other out,” Adam offers. Gerard grins.
“Are you fuckers coming?” Frank asks from the car. He's leaning against it, smoking.
“Yeah!” Gerard shouts back.
~+~
Adam's a warm presence on his left side. It should be uncomfortable, but it really isn't. The inside of the car is still too hot, but it makes Mikey feel better when he can actually feel someone alive beside him. He glances over. Adam's head is resting on the leather, his eyes closed, his breathing regular. He's asleep. Frank is drumming the beat to 'Rebel Yell' on the dashboard and Mikey's fingers twitch in sympathy. He leans his head on the glass and closes his eyes. The desert is always kind of silent - even by day. The only sounds the engine of the car and Frank's knuckles on the dashboard.
~+~
“So how did you end up on the side of the road?” Frank wants to know. They're sitting in a run-down diner somewhere nowhere. The sun is too bright on the dirty tabletop.
“I walked,” Adam says.
“Right.”
It's evident that Frank doesn't believe him. No one in their right minds would walk. It's a fucking desert.
“No one in their right minds would walk,” Gerard says.
“Who said I was?” Adam answers. Gerard's lips are a thin line. He's not amused. Mikey tugs a loose strand of blood red hair behind Gerard's ear and Gerard lets it be. Mikey doesn't know why, but he likes Adam. Likes and kind of maybe trusts him. Adam seems competent and genuine, even if Mikey doesn't have the slightest idea why. Or why he thinks that.
“You'll fit right in then,” Mikey hears himself say and Adam smiles at him. Maybe it's the smile, Mikey muses.
~2~
About days
~+~
Days in the desert are long and uneventful, most of the time. Sometimes things just happen and everything goes to hell - like the thing a few weeks ago before they picked up Adam.
“You picked him up,” Gerard says. He's leaning against the door of the car, sitting on the sandy dry ground, smoking a cigarette. A chipped Batman mug beside him, coffee, already nearly empty.
“It wasn't my decision,” Mikey answers.
“Wasn't it?” Gerard says, taking another drag of his cigarette. Mikey really doesn't think so. They always make the decisions together. “You left the car and talked to him.”
“We could've just left him there,” Mikey answers, a bit defensive.
“No, we couldn't, and you know it,” his brother says. He flips the butt on the sand but doesn't get up. Instead he picks up the mug, but doesn't drink.
“We're the good guys after all,” Mikey says softly. Gerard nods.
“Yeah, but also because you wanted him,” he replies after a short silence. Mikey wants to protest, but really, why would he? It's not like it isn't the truth. And Gerard knows it. They both do.
~+~
Adam has freckles.
“That's why I don't usually spend my days in the fucking sun outside,” he says with a smile. He's stretching his legs a bit, walking around. Frank and Ray are doing something with the car because it makes weird noises and no one thinks that is a good thing. Gerard is somewhere close by, but Mikey can't see him right now. Maybe he's drawing something into the sand with a stick. He says it's therapeutic - like making those Zen circles and stone gardens. The sun is hot and unforgiving. Adam turns around and takes out a crumbled pack of cigarettes. He lights one and hands the pack over to Mikey. His fingers are damp when they brush against Mikey's.
“That's how we found you,” Mikey counters.
“Well...I said usually.”
He takes a drag of his cigarette and says, “Gerard doesn’t like me much, huh,” but it’s not really a question.
“He comes around. He just doesn't like strays that much,” Mikey answers.
“You like strays?” Adam asks. Mikey isn't sure Adam isn't flirting, but Mikey never really is. And Adam seems the type who'll flirt with everyone just to mess with them or make them feel better. Mikey gives Adam the benefit of the doubt. He shrugs. It's not something he wants to talk about. Adam looks at him and then just let's it go, says: “I kind of hate the desert. The days seem endless out here.”
Mikey nods; there is nothing more to say to that. He thinks all of them can feel the weight of the endless days.
~+~
The days are endless and dull. The only interruption is the song Frank raps out on the dashboard. And the number of the body count.
Adam takes a deep drag from his cigarette and holds it in too long. Mikey doesn't tell him to just breathe. He's sure Adam knows he needs to breathe.
“We're the good guys,” he offers after a while and Adam laughs. It doesn't sound amused.
“Fuck,” he says with feeling. There is a smear of blood on his collar and a few drops on his shirt. It looks like art on the washed out fabric. It's not his.
“We can drop you off near the next town,” he offers.
Adam nods, but keeps otherwise quiet.
~3~
About strays
~+~
“They always leave or we have to get rid of them,” Gerard says.
“We only get rid of the crazy ones,” Mikey answers softly.
“Mikey, Adam is one of the crazy ones,” Gerard replies gently. He inhales smoke and lets it in until his lungs start to protest. Mikey doesn't tell him to breathe either.
“He’s a certain kind of crazy - the good kind,” Mikey says, his voice firm.
Gerard nods. “I know.”
~+~
One of the crazy strays killed Bob.
They don't talk about it.
After they shot the crazy and buried Bob Gerard dyed his hair red and let the dye dry on his skin. Warriors used to cut their hair when someone they loved and respected died. Gerard dyes his hair. It's art like everything Gerard does, but it's also deeply felt like everything Gerard does.
Taking Adam in was a risk and they all knew it. Mikey could've had his throat slit before Gerard reached him. Mikey has still no idea why he did it. Why he left the car to pick Adam up. Maybe because he’s one of those people who are always throwing starfish back into the sea.
You just can't give up because it's hopeless.
~+~
“I have no idea how Gerard can drink hot coffee in the fucking desert; also, how his skin stays so pale,” Adam says, shaking his head. Water droplets are flying around because his hair is still wet from the shower he took a few minutes ago. Like a stray dog, Mikey thinks.
“He's using sun-blocker like it's nobody's business. He would drink it like cheap whisky if he could,” Mikey answers. Adam laughs. “I like your freckles,” he adds.
“Thanks,” Adam says.
~4~
About nights
~+~
The nights are cold and clear. The sky is endless like the days. Mikey always felt small watching the sky and here in the desert it's even worse. He feels even smaller. Insignificant.
Adam is a warm presence at his side like he has been since he got into the car all those days ago. Mikey is painfully aware that he will miss Adam and also that he can't make anyone stay. The car stops and Gerard murmurs a sleepy question at Frank who says something back and leaves the car. So Frank is taking a piss and maybe stretching his legs. They were driving for hours with no interruption. Gerard gets up too, he's probably out for a smoke. And because he doesn't like anyone to go out alone, especially at night.
The crazies are everywhere.
Ray is sleeping deep and sound on the other side of the car. Nothing will wake him up. Mikey closes his eyes and shifts a bit into Adam's body. Adam's arm circles around his waist, warm and heavy.
~+~
“Is he gonna stay?” Gerard asks and Frank gives him a look. Mikey cradles his mug. He can see Adam talking with Ray outside the big window of the diner they're in.
“I don't know. He was kinda freaked about the whole...thing,” Mikey says.
“That we killed a few bad guys?” Frank throws in as Gerard keeps silent. Sometimes Mikey thinks Frank is a bastard.
“It's still killing for Adam,” Mikey answers.
“It's still killing for us too,” Gerard says softly. He stares out the window, but Mikey doubts he sees anything. The truth is that Gerard changed after Bob was murdered. The truth is all of them did.
~+~
“You want me to stay?” Adam whispers two nights later. They're three days away from the next city. It's the middle of the night and Ray is driving with headphones on to stay awake. Frank is with them in the back-seat, curled up and deeply asleep. Mikey and Adam are like two kids, whispering secrets into the night. Mikey can feel Adam's breath against his skin. Damp and warm.
“You want to stay?” Mikey asks back.
“That was not the question, Mikeyway,” Adam says. His hand tightens on Mikey's waist. His fingers tangle in Mikey's t-shirt. Mikey takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Sometimes it's okay to be selfish, you know?” Adam says.
“I know,” Mikey answers and Adam's lips brush his skin.
~5~
About aftermaths
~+~
Gerard used to say that the aftermath was secondary. Mikey believed him then and he believes him now. It used to be easier before though.
He's sitting on the porch of an abandoned house somewhere nowhere and smokes his third cigarette in ten minutes. Adam sits beside him, not saying a word. Quietly exhaling and inhaling. They aren't even touching. The day is hot and the sun unforgiving, like always.
“This what you want?” Mikey asks after a while.
Adam shrugs. “I'm crazy,” he says.
“That was not the question.”
“But it's still a legitimate answer,” Adam replies.
Maybe it even is, Mikey thinks.
~+~
Mikey is well aware that he didn't tell Adam to stay and that Adam didn't say he would, even if Mikey would tell him.
“It's still true, you know?” Gerard says, exhaling smoke. The light breeze carries it away as soon as it leaves Gerard's lungs. Like stealing the breath, the life out of Gerard.
“That the aftermath is secondary?” Mikey asks, just to be clear.
Gerard nods. “Yes. It used to be easier, because the decisions were less, didn't weigh so much,” he answers. “One perfect moment,” Gerard says. “No one can take it away after it happened.”
In his heart Gerard is still a believer.
“You're still throwing starfish back into the sea,” Mikey says.
“So are you,” Gerard replies with a soft smile. It's a genuine one. Mikey smiles back.
~+~
“Stay,” Mikey says. They're parked outside a diner a few hours away from the next bigger town. Frank, Gerard and Ray are already inside. Mikey is taking a deep drag from his cigarette and keeps the smoke in too long. Adam runs a hand through his hair.
“You need to breathe,” he says and Mikey looks him in the eyes, exhales slowly. Adam smiles, soft and predatory at once. Different from anyone Mikey ever met. Mikey knows exactly what is going to happen. Adam leans over, his hand dragging Mikey by the neck, closer. Adam's lips are soft because he uses a chapstick every hour or so. His fingers are firm on Mikey's skin. He can smell hair products and sweat and grabs Adam's shirt with the hand that doesn't hold the cigarette.
“You taste like peaches,” Mikey says when Adam lets go of his lips.
“You taste like smoke,” he answers, touching their foreheads together. “I can't,” he says.
“I know,” Mikey breathes against his lips because it's true. It doesn't really matter that he knew from the start. Adam is searching for something or someone; Mikey saw it in his eyes the first time they met.
“I didn't mean to find you along the way,” Adam says.
Mikey smiles and lets go of Adam's shirt. “That's not how life works.”
“Yeah,” Adam says and Mikey kisses him again because no one said that you can't have a few perfect moments before the aftermath.
~end~
Author: creepylicious / alles_luege
Pairing: Mikey/Adam
Rating: PG-13
Summary: This is a story about how Mikey offers Adam a ride and about stuff that just happens while they are driving through the endless desert.
Mikey brushes his fingers against his brother’s neck and then reaches out. Gerard doesn't turn around, but hands over his half-smoked cigarette anyway. Mikey takes a drag and thinks for a split second while the rest of them are waiting. He takes another drag and gets out of the car.
Warning(s): kissing, angst, Mikey centred
Author’s Notes: This fic is set in the 'Art is the weapon' video verse. I call it the 'Desert verse' already, because this is just the beginning...*headdesk* Title: My Chemical Romance.
Word Count: 2.788
Beta: allfaltering (even your beta-notes crack me up!)
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real
~1~
About Adam
~+~
Gerard sees him first, and that in itself is a rare thing - Mikey thinks. Usually it's Ray who picks out the strays. Before it used to be Bob, but Mikey isn't going there right now. It's still an open wound that refuses to heal.
Gerard turns around and looks at him: the dye on his skin looks like someone just slit his throat. It's kind of disturbing but Gerard refuses to wash it away right now.
“There's a kid sitting on the side of the road,” he says and turns back around. Franks hands him a cigarette and he nods his thanks. Mikey doesn't reply. Gerard isn't sure yet it's a good idea to take in strays and Mikey isn't going to make him.
“Stop the car,” Frank says. He doesn't look at Gerard, just stares out the window. It has a crack, Mikey notices. He doesn't think it’s been there for long, but you'll never know.
Gerard keeps his eyes on the dusty road and doesn't answer. He takes another drag of his smoke and exhales slowly. It's kind of a question.
“Stop the car,” Mikey answers softly. His voice feels unused maybe because he hasn’t spoken in five days. Not a single word.
Gerard throws him a look over his shoulder but pulls over a few feet away from the kid; he doesn’t get up. Frank drums his fingers against the dashboard. Ray beside him looks out the window for a better view.
“Maybe he's dead,” Frank says after a while. Gerard doesn't flinch, but there is something... Mikey brushes his fingers against his brother’s neck and then reaches out. Gerard doesn't turn around, but hands over his half-smoked cigarette anyway. Mikey takes a drag and thinks for a split second while the rest of them are waiting. He takes another drag and gets out of the car. The door falling shut behind him sounds pretty fucking loud here in the desert.
“What the fuck are you doing?”Gerard shouts. Mikey isn't sure; he takes a final drag, flips the butt on the road and takes another step in the kid's direction. He hears the door shut a few seconds later and knows that at least Gerard left the car as well. He’s standing in front of the guy now, and, well, the kid isn't one at all. He looks up at Mikey, and he has blue eyes. Fucking clear, like water.
“You're not dead,” Mikey says, and the guy smiles.
“Feels like it on some days,” he answers.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Gerard shouts, pulling his arm so that Mikey has to face him.
“He's not dead, also not a kid,” Mikey answers. Gerard is angry.
“I don't care! He could be for all I know or worse,” Gerard says. His grip on Mikey's arm is starting to hurt. He's sure that it’ll bruise.
“Let go,” he whispers. Gerard doesn't but he loosens his grip. “Wanna get up any time soon?” he asks the guy, who is still sitting beside the road on the sand and dead grass.
“You wanna take me home?” he asks and Mikey laughs. It feels wrong and unused, but it's honest. Startled but still honest.
“I would if I had one,” he says. Gerard sighs and lets go of his arm. “I'm Mikey and that’s Gerard,” he says, because that's how his mom raised him. It doesn't matter if he has maybe to shoot that guy in a few hours. It doesn't hurt anyone to be polite.
“Adam and yeah, not a kid,” the guy says getting up. He's tall. “You're offering me a ride?”
“We could be serial killers for all you know,” Gerard says. Mikey wants to punch him.
“I could be one, too. We could swap stories or wait each other out,” Adam offers. Gerard grins.
“Are you fuckers coming?” Frank asks from the car. He's leaning against it, smoking.
“Yeah!” Gerard shouts back.
~+~
Adam's a warm presence on his left side. It should be uncomfortable, but it really isn't. The inside of the car is still too hot, but it makes Mikey feel better when he can actually feel someone alive beside him. He glances over. Adam's head is resting on the leather, his eyes closed, his breathing regular. He's asleep. Frank is drumming the beat to 'Rebel Yell' on the dashboard and Mikey's fingers twitch in sympathy. He leans his head on the glass and closes his eyes. The desert is always kind of silent - even by day. The only sounds the engine of the car and Frank's knuckles on the dashboard.
~+~
“So how did you end up on the side of the road?” Frank wants to know. They're sitting in a run-down diner somewhere nowhere. The sun is too bright on the dirty tabletop.
“I walked,” Adam says.
“Right.”
It's evident that Frank doesn't believe him. No one in their right minds would walk. It's a fucking desert.
“No one in their right minds would walk,” Gerard says.
“Who said I was?” Adam answers. Gerard's lips are a thin line. He's not amused. Mikey tugs a loose strand of blood red hair behind Gerard's ear and Gerard lets it be. Mikey doesn't know why, but he likes Adam. Likes and kind of maybe trusts him. Adam seems competent and genuine, even if Mikey doesn't have the slightest idea why. Or why he thinks that.
“You'll fit right in then,” Mikey hears himself say and Adam smiles at him. Maybe it's the smile, Mikey muses.
~2~
About days
~+~
Days in the desert are long and uneventful, most of the time. Sometimes things just happen and everything goes to hell - like the thing a few weeks ago before they picked up Adam.
“You picked him up,” Gerard says. He's leaning against the door of the car, sitting on the sandy dry ground, smoking a cigarette. A chipped Batman mug beside him, coffee, already nearly empty.
“It wasn't my decision,” Mikey answers.
“Wasn't it?” Gerard says, taking another drag of his cigarette. Mikey really doesn't think so. They always make the decisions together. “You left the car and talked to him.”
“We could've just left him there,” Mikey answers, a bit defensive.
“No, we couldn't, and you know it,” his brother says. He flips the butt on the sand but doesn't get up. Instead he picks up the mug, but doesn't drink.
“We're the good guys after all,” Mikey says softly. Gerard nods.
“Yeah, but also because you wanted him,” he replies after a short silence. Mikey wants to protest, but really, why would he? It's not like it isn't the truth. And Gerard knows it. They both do.
~+~
Adam has freckles.
“That's why I don't usually spend my days in the fucking sun outside,” he says with a smile. He's stretching his legs a bit, walking around. Frank and Ray are doing something with the car because it makes weird noises and no one thinks that is a good thing. Gerard is somewhere close by, but Mikey can't see him right now. Maybe he's drawing something into the sand with a stick. He says it's therapeutic - like making those Zen circles and stone gardens. The sun is hot and unforgiving. Adam turns around and takes out a crumbled pack of cigarettes. He lights one and hands the pack over to Mikey. His fingers are damp when they brush against Mikey's.
“That's how we found you,” Mikey counters.
“Well...I said usually.”
He takes a drag of his cigarette and says, “Gerard doesn’t like me much, huh,” but it’s not really a question.
“He comes around. He just doesn't like strays that much,” Mikey answers.
“You like strays?” Adam asks. Mikey isn't sure Adam isn't flirting, but Mikey never really is. And Adam seems the type who'll flirt with everyone just to mess with them or make them feel better. Mikey gives Adam the benefit of the doubt. He shrugs. It's not something he wants to talk about. Adam looks at him and then just let's it go, says: “I kind of hate the desert. The days seem endless out here.”
Mikey nods; there is nothing more to say to that. He thinks all of them can feel the weight of the endless days.
~+~
The days are endless and dull. The only interruption is the song Frank raps out on the dashboard. And the number of the body count.
Adam takes a deep drag from his cigarette and holds it in too long. Mikey doesn't tell him to just breathe. He's sure Adam knows he needs to breathe.
“We're the good guys,” he offers after a while and Adam laughs. It doesn't sound amused.
“Fuck,” he says with feeling. There is a smear of blood on his collar and a few drops on his shirt. It looks like art on the washed out fabric. It's not his.
“We can drop you off near the next town,” he offers.
Adam nods, but keeps otherwise quiet.
~3~
About strays
~+~
“They always leave or we have to get rid of them,” Gerard says.
“We only get rid of the crazy ones,” Mikey answers softly.
“Mikey, Adam is one of the crazy ones,” Gerard replies gently. He inhales smoke and lets it in until his lungs start to protest. Mikey doesn't tell him to breathe either.
“He’s a certain kind of crazy - the good kind,” Mikey says, his voice firm.
Gerard nods. “I know.”
~+~
One of the crazy strays killed Bob.
They don't talk about it.
After they shot the crazy and buried Bob Gerard dyed his hair red and let the dye dry on his skin. Warriors used to cut their hair when someone they loved and respected died. Gerard dyes his hair. It's art like everything Gerard does, but it's also deeply felt like everything Gerard does.
Taking Adam in was a risk and they all knew it. Mikey could've had his throat slit before Gerard reached him. Mikey has still no idea why he did it. Why he left the car to pick Adam up. Maybe because he’s one of those people who are always throwing starfish back into the sea.
You just can't give up because it's hopeless.
~+~
“I have no idea how Gerard can drink hot coffee in the fucking desert; also, how his skin stays so pale,” Adam says, shaking his head. Water droplets are flying around because his hair is still wet from the shower he took a few minutes ago. Like a stray dog, Mikey thinks.
“He's using sun-blocker like it's nobody's business. He would drink it like cheap whisky if he could,” Mikey answers. Adam laughs. “I like your freckles,” he adds.
“Thanks,” Adam says.
~4~
About nights
~+~
The nights are cold and clear. The sky is endless like the days. Mikey always felt small watching the sky and here in the desert it's even worse. He feels even smaller. Insignificant.
Adam is a warm presence at his side like he has been since he got into the car all those days ago. Mikey is painfully aware that he will miss Adam and also that he can't make anyone stay. The car stops and Gerard murmurs a sleepy question at Frank who says something back and leaves the car. So Frank is taking a piss and maybe stretching his legs. They were driving for hours with no interruption. Gerard gets up too, he's probably out for a smoke. And because he doesn't like anyone to go out alone, especially at night.
The crazies are everywhere.
Ray is sleeping deep and sound on the other side of the car. Nothing will wake him up. Mikey closes his eyes and shifts a bit into Adam's body. Adam's arm circles around his waist, warm and heavy.
~+~
“Is he gonna stay?” Gerard asks and Frank gives him a look. Mikey cradles his mug. He can see Adam talking with Ray outside the big window of the diner they're in.
“I don't know. He was kinda freaked about the whole...thing,” Mikey says.
“That we killed a few bad guys?” Frank throws in as Gerard keeps silent. Sometimes Mikey thinks Frank is a bastard.
“It's still killing for Adam,” Mikey answers.
“It's still killing for us too,” Gerard says softly. He stares out the window, but Mikey doubts he sees anything. The truth is that Gerard changed after Bob was murdered. The truth is all of them did.
~+~
“You want me to stay?” Adam whispers two nights later. They're three days away from the next city. It's the middle of the night and Ray is driving with headphones on to stay awake. Frank is with them in the back-seat, curled up and deeply asleep. Mikey and Adam are like two kids, whispering secrets into the night. Mikey can feel Adam's breath against his skin. Damp and warm.
“You want to stay?” Mikey asks back.
“That was not the question, Mikeyway,” Adam says. His hand tightens on Mikey's waist. His fingers tangle in Mikey's t-shirt. Mikey takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Sometimes it's okay to be selfish, you know?” Adam says.
“I know,” Mikey answers and Adam's lips brush his skin.
~5~
About aftermaths
~+~
Gerard used to say that the aftermath was secondary. Mikey believed him then and he believes him now. It used to be easier before though.
He's sitting on the porch of an abandoned house somewhere nowhere and smokes his third cigarette in ten minutes. Adam sits beside him, not saying a word. Quietly exhaling and inhaling. They aren't even touching. The day is hot and the sun unforgiving, like always.
“This what you want?” Mikey asks after a while.
Adam shrugs. “I'm crazy,” he says.
“That was not the question.”
“But it's still a legitimate answer,” Adam replies.
Maybe it even is, Mikey thinks.
~+~
Mikey is well aware that he didn't tell Adam to stay and that Adam didn't say he would, even if Mikey would tell him.
“It's still true, you know?” Gerard says, exhaling smoke. The light breeze carries it away as soon as it leaves Gerard's lungs. Like stealing the breath, the life out of Gerard.
“That the aftermath is secondary?” Mikey asks, just to be clear.
Gerard nods. “Yes. It used to be easier, because the decisions were less, didn't weigh so much,” he answers. “One perfect moment,” Gerard says. “No one can take it away after it happened.”
In his heart Gerard is still a believer.
“You're still throwing starfish back into the sea,” Mikey says.
“So are you,” Gerard replies with a soft smile. It's a genuine one. Mikey smiles back.
~+~
“Stay,” Mikey says. They're parked outside a diner a few hours away from the next bigger town. Frank, Gerard and Ray are already inside. Mikey is taking a deep drag from his cigarette and keeps the smoke in too long. Adam runs a hand through his hair.
“You need to breathe,” he says and Mikey looks him in the eyes, exhales slowly. Adam smiles, soft and predatory at once. Different from anyone Mikey ever met. Mikey knows exactly what is going to happen. Adam leans over, his hand dragging Mikey by the neck, closer. Adam's lips are soft because he uses a chapstick every hour or so. His fingers are firm on Mikey's skin. He can smell hair products and sweat and grabs Adam's shirt with the hand that doesn't hold the cigarette.
“You taste like peaches,” Mikey says when Adam lets go of his lips.
“You taste like smoke,” he answers, touching their foreheads together. “I can't,” he says.
“I know,” Mikey breathes against his lips because it's true. It doesn't really matter that he knew from the start. Adam is searching for something or someone; Mikey saw it in his eyes the first time they met.
“I didn't mean to find you along the way,” Adam says.
Mikey smiles and lets go of Adam's shirt. “That's not how life works.”
“Yeah,” Adam says and Mikey kisses him again because no one said that you can't have a few perfect moments before the aftermath.
~end~