Suicide Makeover
Title: Suicide Makeover (26/?)
Author: Logan
Pairing: young!Billie/Mike
Rating: PG-13
Previous: 1-25
Summary: I left him alone all last night. I didn’t even sit with him at supper, partially because I was sitting with the red-haired girl and partially because he didn’t show up until the meal was almost over.
I left him alone all last night. I didn’t even sit with him at supper, partially because I was sitting with the red-haired girl and partially because he didn’t show up until the meal was almost over. I almost, almost, got out of my seat and hurried over to him when he came in. I wanted to ask him where he had been and if everything was okay. But I didn’t. I just clenched my jaw and watched as he grabbed his food and sat down. All alone.
In our room last night, we barely talked. I mean, of course we had to talk a little bit. But it was fucking small talk shit. I did find out that he had had another meeting last night. That’s why he was late for supper. His mom came by and they talked about things. And then he dropped it and said good-night.
I stayed awake for fucking hours because my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up. It kept spinning around and around with a bunch of different scenarios. Billie Joe ignoring me. Billie Joe liking me. Billie Joe loving me. And that’s how I fell asleep, dreaming of the many different sides of Billie Joe. And guess what, every single version of him fucking died when I got too close.
So now I’m freaked out and I can’t even talk to him about it because he’s still all closed-off and acting like we’re just sharing a room. And I get that, I understand that I agreed to this way of life for the next couple days. But Jesus Christ, all I want to do is tell him not to die. That he can’t die. That I’ll leave him alone for the rest of his goddamn life if he just promises me that he won’t die. Ever.
“Mike? Do you want to come with me?” Billie Joe breaks through the suffocating silence of our room and pulls the cover from its spot over my head, “Outside. It’s morning and I just was thinking that maybe…”
I’m out of the bed and on my feet in no time, my head shaking its yes without my lips even moving. I’m in shock, I never thought that Billie Joe would be the one to say anything but here he is, asking me to come hang out with him. I’m trying not to smile too big as to not scare him off or anything. But it is hard.
I follow him, silently, out onto the balcony and both of us rest our elbows on the icy metal. I want to break the silence but I don’t know how. So I wait. I wait for Billie Joe to say something.
“I’m going to miss this,” Billie Joe mutters, sweeping his arm in a circular motion, “All this fresh air and this balcony and…”
“And what?” I question, I can’t help it, “You don’t have to answer that. But yeah, this is something.”
He smiles and reaches out for my hand. I allow him to thread his fingers with mine and he squeezes. I try to talk but it comes out as some sort of choked sob-like sound and he smiles wider.
“You. I’m going to miss you,” He bites on his lower lip and I watch as his eyelids flutter shut, “I was trying to ignore that, that feeling that I get around you. But it’s useless to ignore it because it is there and pretending it doesn’t exist isn’t the right thing to do.”
I swallow thickly and take a few deep breaths to calm the millions of butterflies dancing in the pit of my stomach before answering him, “Yeah, uh, yeah.”
Smooth, Mike, real fucking smooth. He just admits something that you really want to hear and you answer like that. Holy shit, he’s going to take it all back. He’s going to--laugh?
Billie Joe throws his head back and just laughs, “Victory!” He giggles and lets go of my hand, instead curling his arm around my waist, “I just made you go fucking speechless.”
He quiets down, cheeks flushed the most wonderful shade of red as his eyes glitter in the early morning sunshine. I can’t help it. He looks so fucking gorgeous that it is physically hurting my heart. Leaning down, I meet his lips halfway for a kiss. One that is as pure and innocent as the sunrise.
“I’m going to miss you too,” And I am going to miss him. I’m going to miss him so fucking much, “You fucking…you opened my eyes to this world.”
He wrinkles his nose and slides his arm away from my waist, fingers curling with mine once again, “What does that mean?” He squeezes my hand and rubs the pad of his thumb over my skin, “Explain it to me.”
I falter, searching for the right words, “I…just, you’re something special, Billie Joe. Real fucking special. And you showed me that it’s okay to be different, that it’s okay to be outspoken and a fucking brat,” I smile at him so he knows that I’m not being serious about the brat thing, “You also showed me that it’s okay to…you know…like…”
“Boys?” Billie Joe grins and brings my hand up to his mouth, kissing it softly before saying, “I turned you gay. That’s what you mean, right? I turned you into a fucking faggot.”
I blush, I can feel the heat spreading across my face, “No…I’m not, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that you made me realize a lot of things, okay. One of those things is that maybe I do kinda like guys but I don’t know!”
He smiles, “So you just like me? No other guys. Just me?” He gives another small laugh, “I like you, Mike, and it’s going to suck that I’m never going to see you again.”
My smile falters because he had to bring that up. I scramble for words and find nothing. Instead I stand there, opening and closing my mouth like a goddamn idiot.
“I mean, I’d like to see you again but I can’t. Because I,” He pauses and inhales before continuing, “I won’t be here.”
“Don’t die!”
I slap my free hand over my mouth and widen my eyes. His eyes widen too, full of fear and panic, as they lock on mine. I just shake my head and stare into those pools of green, wanting nothing more than to close my eyes and run away.
“Wh--what?” He questions, his grasp loosening on my hand, “I--I’m just leaving with Frankie. I’m--I--Mike, I’m not going to die.”
He whispers the last word and it sends chills down my fucking spine, “I just, sorry, I had a dream and you died and I couldn’t stop it and you were just…dead,” I inhale and exhale and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his, “And you died like four times, Billie, and I was so scared. So fucking scared.”
He swallows, loud enough that I can hear, and lets go of my hand. He places both hands on my face, his clammy palms resting on my cheeks. His eyes dart around making sure that no one is watching and he lifts himself onto his tiptoes. He kisses me. Real soft and slow, like the one a couple minutes ago but better. I open my mouth under his and just let him take control.
When he pulls away, we’re both breathing heavily. He smiles and I smile back. And then he says.
“I’m not going to die on you,” He pauses and kisses my cheek.
“Promise me,” I choke on the words, tears prickling the corners of my eyes as I notice just how glassy and shiny his look, “Promise me you won’t die.”
“I pr--I, Mike, I can’t promise you that,” He looks down at his feet and kicks at the ground, “That’s not something I can just promise.”
I bite down on my lip to stop myself from saying anything. Instead, I wait for him to look up at me and when he finally does I see that he’s crying.
I lean forward and kiss his cheeks, his eyelids, his nose, his lips. And I feel sick.
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( Next Part )
Author: Logan
Pairing: young!Billie/Mike
Rating: PG-13
Previous: 1-25
Summary: I left him alone all last night. I didn’t even sit with him at supper, partially because I was sitting with the red-haired girl and partially because he didn’t show up until the meal was almost over.
I left him alone all last night. I didn’t even sit with him at supper, partially because I was sitting with the red-haired girl and partially because he didn’t show up until the meal was almost over. I almost, almost, got out of my seat and hurried over to him when he came in. I wanted to ask him where he had been and if everything was okay. But I didn’t. I just clenched my jaw and watched as he grabbed his food and sat down. All alone.
In our room last night, we barely talked. I mean, of course we had to talk a little bit. But it was fucking small talk shit. I did find out that he had had another meeting last night. That’s why he was late for supper. His mom came by and they talked about things. And then he dropped it and said good-night.
I stayed awake for fucking hours because my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up. It kept spinning around and around with a bunch of different scenarios. Billie Joe ignoring me. Billie Joe liking me. Billie Joe loving me. And that’s how I fell asleep, dreaming of the many different sides of Billie Joe. And guess what, every single version of him fucking died when I got too close.
So now I’m freaked out and I can’t even talk to him about it because he’s still all closed-off and acting like we’re just sharing a room. And I get that, I understand that I agreed to this way of life for the next couple days. But Jesus Christ, all I want to do is tell him not to die. That he can’t die. That I’ll leave him alone for the rest of his goddamn life if he just promises me that he won’t die. Ever.
“Mike? Do you want to come with me?” Billie Joe breaks through the suffocating silence of our room and pulls the cover from its spot over my head, “Outside. It’s morning and I just was thinking that maybe…”
I’m out of the bed and on my feet in no time, my head shaking its yes without my lips even moving. I’m in shock, I never thought that Billie Joe would be the one to say anything but here he is, asking me to come hang out with him. I’m trying not to smile too big as to not scare him off or anything. But it is hard.
I follow him, silently, out onto the balcony and both of us rest our elbows on the icy metal. I want to break the silence but I don’t know how. So I wait. I wait for Billie Joe to say something.
“I’m going to miss this,” Billie Joe mutters, sweeping his arm in a circular motion, “All this fresh air and this balcony and…”
“And what?” I question, I can’t help it, “You don’t have to answer that. But yeah, this is something.”
He smiles and reaches out for my hand. I allow him to thread his fingers with mine and he squeezes. I try to talk but it comes out as some sort of choked sob-like sound and he smiles wider.
“You. I’m going to miss you,” He bites on his lower lip and I watch as his eyelids flutter shut, “I was trying to ignore that, that feeling that I get around you. But it’s useless to ignore it because it is there and pretending it doesn’t exist isn’t the right thing to do.”
I swallow thickly and take a few deep breaths to calm the millions of butterflies dancing in the pit of my stomach before answering him, “Yeah, uh, yeah.”
Smooth, Mike, real fucking smooth. He just admits something that you really want to hear and you answer like that. Holy shit, he’s going to take it all back. He’s going to--laugh?
Billie Joe throws his head back and just laughs, “Victory!” He giggles and lets go of my hand, instead curling his arm around my waist, “I just made you go fucking speechless.”
He quiets down, cheeks flushed the most wonderful shade of red as his eyes glitter in the early morning sunshine. I can’t help it. He looks so fucking gorgeous that it is physically hurting my heart. Leaning down, I meet his lips halfway for a kiss. One that is as pure and innocent as the sunrise.
“I’m going to miss you too,” And I am going to miss him. I’m going to miss him so fucking much, “You fucking…you opened my eyes to this world.”
He wrinkles his nose and slides his arm away from my waist, fingers curling with mine once again, “What does that mean?” He squeezes my hand and rubs the pad of his thumb over my skin, “Explain it to me.”
I falter, searching for the right words, “I…just, you’re something special, Billie Joe. Real fucking special. And you showed me that it’s okay to be different, that it’s okay to be outspoken and a fucking brat,” I smile at him so he knows that I’m not being serious about the brat thing, “You also showed me that it’s okay to…you know…like…”
“Boys?” Billie Joe grins and brings my hand up to his mouth, kissing it softly before saying, “I turned you gay. That’s what you mean, right? I turned you into a fucking faggot.”
I blush, I can feel the heat spreading across my face, “No…I’m not, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that you made me realize a lot of things, okay. One of those things is that maybe I do kinda like guys but I don’t know!”
He smiles, “So you just like me? No other guys. Just me?” He gives another small laugh, “I like you, Mike, and it’s going to suck that I’m never going to see you again.”
My smile falters because he had to bring that up. I scramble for words and find nothing. Instead I stand there, opening and closing my mouth like a goddamn idiot.
“I mean, I’d like to see you again but I can’t. Because I,” He pauses and inhales before continuing, “I won’t be here.”
“Don’t die!”
I slap my free hand over my mouth and widen my eyes. His eyes widen too, full of fear and panic, as they lock on mine. I just shake my head and stare into those pools of green, wanting nothing more than to close my eyes and run away.
“Wh--what?” He questions, his grasp loosening on my hand, “I--I’m just leaving with Frankie. I’m--I--Mike, I’m not going to die.”
He whispers the last word and it sends chills down my fucking spine, “I just, sorry, I had a dream and you died and I couldn’t stop it and you were just…dead,” I inhale and exhale and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his, “And you died like four times, Billie, and I was so scared. So fucking scared.”
He swallows, loud enough that I can hear, and lets go of my hand. He places both hands on my face, his clammy palms resting on my cheeks. His eyes dart around making sure that no one is watching and he lifts himself onto his tiptoes. He kisses me. Real soft and slow, like the one a couple minutes ago but better. I open my mouth under his and just let him take control.
When he pulls away, we’re both breathing heavily. He smiles and I smile back. And then he says.
“I’m not going to die on you,” He pauses and kisses my cheek.
“Promise me,” I choke on the words, tears prickling the corners of my eyes as I notice just how glassy and shiny his look, “Promise me you won’t die.”
“I pr--I, Mike, I can’t promise you that,” He looks down at his feet and kicks at the ground, “That’s not something I can just promise.”
I bite down on my lip to stop myself from saying anything. Instead, I wait for him to look up at me and when he finally does I see that he’s crying.
I lean forward and kiss his cheeks, his eyelids, his nose, his lips. And I feel sick.
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( Next Part )