mcr // mcr_100 // habits and addictions
Title: Withdrawal
Pairing: implied Ray/Bob (though Bob's name isn't used)
Rating: PG
Summary: Ray wants to hang up now, he's not sure why he called in the first place, why he felt the sudden urge to call.
Author's Note: Written for the habits and addictions challenge at mcr_100. Exactly 200 words. Second place winner.
"Hello?" He sounds tired across the phone line. Rumpled. Probably asleep, woken up. Ray wants to hang up now, he's not sure why he called in the first place, why he felt the sudden urge to call. Just because he needed to, needed to talk to someone who would maybe understand this unbearable instability.
"Hello?" Shit. Say something.
"Hi. Sorry."
"Ray?" Who else?
"Yeah."
"What's wrong? Everything okay?" Concern. Ray really wants to hang up now. He can't stand it, hearing him like this.
"No. I mean, yeah. Everything's fine. I just...couldn't sleep." Lame. So lame.
"Nah, man, it's okay." Of course. Of course it's okay. It's always okay with him, isn't it?
"I can't fucking do this, man. I'm going crazy, I swear." There it goes.
"It's okay. You're not going crazy. Just think of it as withdrawal, yeah?" Ray laughs. Withdrawal. Who would've thought.
"It had to end eventually, Ray. We'll get used to it. Not playing. Not being a band. We'll have to, right?" Ray swallows, bile and sickness and tears. Fists his hands, fingers that ache for strings, closes eyes that burn for the sight of a soaring crowd. They'll have to.
"Yeah. Yeah, we will."
-----
Title: Availability and Distractions
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG
Summary: Itching, itching, fingers scrabbling for nonexistent relief, slowly wearing through the knee of his jeans.
Author's Note: Written for the habits and addictions challenge at mcr_100. Exactly 200 words.
Gerard is itching. Itching, itching, fingers scrabbling for nonexistent relief, slowly wearing through the knee of his jeans. It doesn't happen often anymore, that itch, that urge, that need, but habits are hardly forgotten, and addictions never die.
That taunting, twisted, cruel and deprecating voice that haunted the back of his head for so many years might have been silenced, but its owner is still alive, bouncing around his skull, cackling beneath the muffle of the duct tape strapped across its mouth.
Self-control remains an issue. The only difference is availability, and maybe a slightly stronger will.
There's a scuffle at the door, then the familiar sound of compressed air working the bus door hinges. In he comes, all wide grin and bounce in his step. He doesn't bother to say hi or ask what's up before sliding in next to Gerard on the couch, resting his feet over the arm rest and his head in Gerard's lap, picking up the discarded remote on the floor and flicking on the too-big-for-a-bus television. The Sci-Fi channel spreads across the screen, and the itch grows duller, replaced by a spreading, tingling warmth.
Now the only difference is availability. Availability and distractions.
-----
Title: A Problem
Pairing: very slight Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG
Summary: "Frank, I think you might have a problem."
Author's Note: Written for the habits and addictions challenge at mcr_100. Exactly 200 words.
"Frank." Gerard set the notepad he'd been using to doodle out his hyperactive guitarist's instructions down, looking up and over his shoulder at Frank with a look of utmost seriousness. "I think you might have a problem."
Frank frowned, though the expression came out as slightly less than effective thanks to the excited antsy grin still spread across his face as he lightly smacked at the back of Gerard's head. "I do not."
Gerard simply rolled his eyes. Denial. Of course. "Because I haven't heard that one before. You're talking to an ex-alcoholic, Frank, I know all the excuses already."
Frank raised an eyebrow, his grin now solidly turning to mild insult and exasperation. "Gerard, plenty of people are so much worse!"
A blink. "That's a common excuse, too."
Now it was Frank's turn to roll his eyes. "You're such a freak."
Gerard shrugged. "Fine. But when you end up checking yourself into ink rehab, I'll be the one saying I told you so," he said before turning back to the half-drawn sketch of Frank's next planned tattoo. In the corners of his eyes, he could see the half-hidden smile that pulled at Frank's lips, neatly matching his own.
Pairing: implied Ray/Bob (though Bob's name isn't used)
Rating: PG
Summary: Ray wants to hang up now, he's not sure why he called in the first place, why he felt the sudden urge to call.
Author's Note: Written for the habits and addictions challenge at mcr_100. Exactly 200 words. Second place winner.
"Hello?" He sounds tired across the phone line. Rumpled. Probably asleep, woken up. Ray wants to hang up now, he's not sure why he called in the first place, why he felt the sudden urge to call. Just because he needed to, needed to talk to someone who would maybe understand this unbearable instability.
"Hello?" Shit. Say something.
"Hi. Sorry."
"Ray?" Who else?
"Yeah."
"What's wrong? Everything okay?" Concern. Ray really wants to hang up now. He can't stand it, hearing him like this.
"No. I mean, yeah. Everything's fine. I just...couldn't sleep." Lame. So lame.
"Nah, man, it's okay." Of course. Of course it's okay. It's always okay with him, isn't it?
"I can't fucking do this, man. I'm going crazy, I swear." There it goes.
"It's okay. You're not going crazy. Just think of it as withdrawal, yeah?" Ray laughs. Withdrawal. Who would've thought.
"It had to end eventually, Ray. We'll get used to it. Not playing. Not being a band. We'll have to, right?" Ray swallows, bile and sickness and tears. Fists his hands, fingers that ache for strings, closes eyes that burn for the sight of a soaring crowd. They'll have to.
"Yeah. Yeah, we will."
-----
Title: Availability and Distractions
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG
Summary: Itching, itching, fingers scrabbling for nonexistent relief, slowly wearing through the knee of his jeans.
Author's Note: Written for the habits and addictions challenge at mcr_100. Exactly 200 words.
Gerard is itching. Itching, itching, fingers scrabbling for nonexistent relief, slowly wearing through the knee of his jeans. It doesn't happen often anymore, that itch, that urge, that need, but habits are hardly forgotten, and addictions never die.
That taunting, twisted, cruel and deprecating voice that haunted the back of his head for so many years might have been silenced, but its owner is still alive, bouncing around his skull, cackling beneath the muffle of the duct tape strapped across its mouth.
Self-control remains an issue. The only difference is availability, and maybe a slightly stronger will.
There's a scuffle at the door, then the familiar sound of compressed air working the bus door hinges. In he comes, all wide grin and bounce in his step. He doesn't bother to say hi or ask what's up before sliding in next to Gerard on the couch, resting his feet over the arm rest and his head in Gerard's lap, picking up the discarded remote on the floor and flicking on the too-big-for-a-bus television. The Sci-Fi channel spreads across the screen, and the itch grows duller, replaced by a spreading, tingling warmth.
Now the only difference is availability. Availability and distractions.
-----
Title: A Problem
Pairing: very slight Frank/Gerard
Rating: PG
Summary: "Frank, I think you might have a problem."
Author's Note: Written for the habits and addictions challenge at mcr_100. Exactly 200 words.
"Frank." Gerard set the notepad he'd been using to doodle out his hyperactive guitarist's instructions down, looking up and over his shoulder at Frank with a look of utmost seriousness. "I think you might have a problem."
Frank frowned, though the expression came out as slightly less than effective thanks to the excited antsy grin still spread across his face as he lightly smacked at the back of Gerard's head. "I do not."
Gerard simply rolled his eyes. Denial. Of course. "Because I haven't heard that one before. You're talking to an ex-alcoholic, Frank, I know all the excuses already."
Frank raised an eyebrow, his grin now solidly turning to mild insult and exasperation. "Gerard, plenty of people are so much worse!"
A blink. "That's a common excuse, too."
Now it was Frank's turn to roll his eyes. "You're such a freak."
Gerard shrugged. "Fine. But when you end up checking yourself into ink rehab, I'll be the one saying I told you so," he said before turning back to the half-drawn sketch of Frank's next planned tattoo. In the corners of his eyes, he could see the half-hidden smile that pulled at Frank's lips, neatly matching his own.