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Blackbird, Chapter 10b
Title: Blackbird
Author: woebetidesweets and cassie_roulette
Pairing: Frank/Mikey
Rating: NC-17 for... many unspeakable things.
POV: Third-person omniscient
Summary:

Author Notes: This started off as an rp. Because we were bored. We tried to get each other off. And you hadn't had the Frank/Mikey in forevers. And no-one can resist a goddamn uniform. And we're both ex-Catholic Catholic fetishists something fierce. So we're aware that it's pretty damn cliche. But it got out of hand really fast and ended up being kind of epicly long. ...It's been two minutes and I can't think of anything else to reply with. END AUTHOR'S NOTE HERE.
Disclaimer: It's an epic gayass INO AU rp. Also, we don't know the My Chemical Romances. Nor do we own them.



It took about a week of complete uselessness before Frank was able to wake up in the morning and not want to die. He'd been going through the days in a blur. He didn't have to wake up early for school. He didn't have a job. He had nothing to look forward to. And Mikey... as hard as he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about it. The words were burned into his mind.

This is your fault.

Stupid rich kid.

I never loved you.

He'd been so sure, so cockily, stupidly sure that his life had finally been worth living. But of course the universe had to go and prove him wrong and take it all away. Of course Mikey hadn't loved him. It all made a sick sort of sense, as the transition took place from despair to anger. But the anger was short lived, memories of soft skin and stilted speech and complete awe in the eyes of the other boy who had melted Frank's heart. So on the morning of the seventh day, he'd shuffled into his father's office and sat down dejectedly to have a man to man talk with him for the first time in his life. And with sad, broken eyes, told him the story of Mikey's home life and horrible parents and the inescapable explanation for why he was in the hospital. That it wasn't right and it wasn't fair and that his friend - because in spite of everything Mikey was his friend, dammit - needed justice. Mr. Iero had just nodded throughout it all, moved more than anything at the fact that his son was actually passionate about something, and although it didn't fall under his usual jurisdiction, he promised he'd look into it and see what he could do.

And as for Mikey, it wasn't really so much the breaks in his body that kept him still anymore. The nurses would come in and put food on the bedside table and clean clothes would be laid on the end of the bed but all he'd do was look out the window, sheets tucked up around his hips, hair unbrushed and sticking everywhere. He just, ached. He didn't have anything to think about but Frank, really. He never had anything else. And just the thought of letting his mind wander back to God terrified him. He didn't want that again, he hadn't been happy, he knew that. But he wasn't happy now either, and at least then, he wasn't alone. He wanted Frank to sit next to him and ask him questions, and he wanted Frank to get him a glass of water when he knew he wasn't even thirsty. He just- wanted Frank. And the realization that he was successful, that he'd gotten rid of the other boy forever, was more bitter than sweet. But Frank was okay now. He told himself that. He spent the days in the hospital watching leaves on the tree outside his window shiver and fall and thinking about Frank playing his guitar up on a big stage, with lights and fans and a happy expression, and he made himself think about it even though it made his stomach hurt and his chest clench up. He didn't think much of it when a man came in and quietly pulled a chair up next to his bed and showed him a badge and asked him questions in a gentle voice about what it was like at home. Mikey'd answered. None of that mattered anymore.

His parents didn't come to pick him up, it was his grandparents, mother's side, they'd come with welcoming smiles and hugs and Mikey nodded numbly and picked at his shirt when they told him his parents wouldn't come near him for a long time, and that everything was okay. It wasn't, but he nodded anyways.

Frank's father hadn't handled the case. He wasn't in criminal justice, his firm dealing more with large scale corporate suites that shifted the balance of power between various billionaires. But he had friends, had connections, and all it had taken was a confident call to child services to get the ball rolling. Frank remained oblivious to the case until one day when he'd been greeted at breakfast with the news of "Oh, your friend's father is in jail." Nothing else was said on the subject for all of Frank's frantic questions since that was all his father knew or cared. Someone had won, and it was the someone he'd wanted to. And Frank's immediate joy was soon replaced with an infuriating anxiety since in the short few weeks the two boys had spent in each other's company, they'd never exchanged any kind of information. It went without saying that the Ways no longer lived at the one address Frank was aware of. He'd checked. Twice. He'd tried going to the school, but he wasn't allowed through the front doors. Not that they'd have told him anyways, given the obvious way they viewed his relationship with Mikey. And so time passed, with Frank falling into a half-hearted schedule. Playing guitar and hanging out with the guys at the store and eventually getting another tattoo further down his left arm since it didn’t really matter if anyone saw it anymore. It was a morbid design of the Virgin with bleeding eyes and seven swords piercing the Sacred Heart; a strange and twisted final tribute to his time spent in the Catholic church. His parents no longer cared if he attended services now that he'd been expelled. Not that they ever had except for whether it would affect his grades or not. Many days he just spent driving around the city. Occasionally parking at the mall or the drive-in or the diner or any of the handful of places that still resonated with happy memories.

It wasn't that Frank had ever stopped thinking about Mikey. But as the days grew hotter and longer everything sort of knit together. He'd sleep until noon and waste a few more hours until dragging himself to the shower, only going out into the world when most people were just finishing. He'd drive through the manicured neighborhoods with their perfect trees and matching mailboxes until the property value slowly declined and he'd hit the inner city. And on this particular day he'd found himself at the diner without even realizing that was where he wanted to go. Call it sentimental or stupid or hopeless but he always sat in the same booth. He remembered how happy Mikey had been on that day when he'd taken him out of his parent's house and out to lunch. Something so simple that brought the other boy such joy and with a contorted face to keep from tearing up like a pussy when he passed through the door, he thought of for the millionth time that he'd do anything to see that again. The waitress brought him coffee without him needing to ask. He was starting to become a constant in her schedule. A regular, a lonely son of a bitch at a diner who was only seventeen years old. How fucking sad is that, he mused, dejectedly stirring the spoon around within the mug for all that he hadn't added anything to it. He'd tried, once, to hook up with another guy since the day in the hospital. And it hadn't gotten any further than the boy excitedly grabbing at his crotch before he put a stop to it because he was doing it wrong, dammit, that wasn't how he wanted it and it wasn't who he wanted it with and the sudden thought disgusted him that he could ever somehow replace Mikey. It was like sex didn't even interest him anymore. Not when amber eyes weren't staring innocent wide-eyed at him with naked awe and trust, those eyes that haunted his dreams and cried out for Frank to save him before turning cold and turning away forever.


And it only really sank in that Mikey’s dad wasn't coming for him after two weeks in his grandparents' house in a culvasac with oak and maple trees. They gave him a room painted a soft butter yellow and they asked him what kind of things he'd like to put on his walls, and his grandpa told him stories about sailing when he was Mikey's age and his grandma made him pancakes in the morning before she'd go to volunteer at someplace or another. Mikey got the impression that they'd wanted this with him all along, but weren't really allowed it. They both would hug him sometimes, for no reason at all. He liked that. Neither of them pressured him to get a job or get up and out of the house sometimes; they figured he was a responsible kid, he'd do it when he was ready. So Mikey spent time decorating his room and thinking, getting used to a general feeling of, just, freedom. There wasn't a constant overhanging presence of his parents or God either, he could make his own choices, and slowly he began to realize, if he chose to be with Frank, no-one would stop him. There wouldn't be anyone hiding in the shadows with a belt, because the someone was put away.

And as soon as that thought hit him, he hurt with it, half-baked ideas of tackling Frank in a Walmart in the video game section and saying it was okay now, it was all okay, and when he asked one day, who said something, his grandpa mentioned a lawyer, some rich guy, Iero, wasn't too fond of him, stole from some families, but he was okay in his eyes now, he'd gotten Mikey out. And Mikey knew then, and emotion chewed in his gut and didn't let him sleep until he found him, just to see him, wouldn't bug him wouldn't even have to talk to him, he just wanted to see him. He hung by the school, sat at benches across from music stores, and once, he braved a concert, crushed a bit in the pit, groped a few times and his glasses got stepped on but Frank hadn't been there either. Sometimes he just kissed his grandma on the cheek and told her he was going out, stuffed his hands in his pockets and went to the diner and sat. He didn't eat much, just sat and thought. The looming truth that he probably wasn't ever going to be able to fix this made him lose his appetite.

This time, Mikey idled in front of the diner, checking his hoodie pockets to make sure he had some cash. He'd started dressing a little differently since school was over- and his grandparents didn't have any rules about that kind of thing, just gave him money and dropped him off at the mall, and it would have been chicky how excited he was about just getting clothes if a person didn't know that he'd never been allowed to choose his own outfits in his life. So today he was wearing black jeans that slung a little low on his hips- he wasn't used to them being that way, always absentmindedly trying to pull them up when they already were up as high as they were gonna go, but they were the only pair in his size and he didn't think they looked horrible. His shirt was Dawn of the Dead, a film he'd loved since he first saw it playing in a movie store and hid from his parents for a half hour to see the end of even though it gave him nightmares for three weeks, and he'd stopped bothering to brush his hair down every morning, a kind of final fuck you to his mother, so it stuck up messy all over the place. He pushed up his glasses, new ones, rectangular rims, and nudged into the door, pushing it open quietly, the bell ringing very softly. He didn't really know why he came here when it only made him sad, but he did anyways, and now he just leaned against the counter, looking at the floor and remembering and waiting for a waitress to come give him a table.

Frank was lost in his own thoughts. He'd taken to scrawling out half-formed lyrics or weird-ass monsters on the napkins, playing with the moisture rings his coffee left on the table, setting it down in a different place again and again to make interlocking designs of circles that he'd wipe away as soon as the fleeting moment of interest passed. He didn't bother to look up when the door chimed. There was a time where he would have, happily, like a puppy in a store window, but as the weeks had gone by and of course it had never been Mikey because Mikey didn't love him, never loved him, and getting his hopes up only made it hurt more. He hadn't ordered yet but wasn't in any rush, his chin resting in his palm, supported by his propped up elbow, blowing air past his lips that wasn't quite a sigh but just as apathetic.

Standing there and waiting, Mikey was watching the chefs sliding plates across the counter and pegging up filled order slips when his heart felt like it stopped for a few seconds, like it decided, just, not to beat. Because over all the smells of frying burgers and bubbling fry vats, he smelled a certain mix, a combination of shampoo and fabric softener and cigarettes, and in a second, his head darted to the side, looking quick to the booth, the one by the window, and he was just sitting there, poking ice cubes in his soda with a straw and yawning and it was really him. Mikey was immediately overtaken with a desire to do ten things at once, the strongest of which were flying across the diner and hugging him, sinking to the floor and maybe puking, or just yelling out his name in a faux-teasing tone and grinning wide if he grinned. He didn't do any of those, though, he just stood there in abject shock, his face drained of color and his mouth open. It was really Frank. His body finally seemed to gather itself enough to let him work, and his lips formed the other boy's name and then he was across the restaurant, just to say thank you is what he told himself, let Frank go on with his life and be happy, he just had to say thank you for saving him and- he wanted to say he was so sorry, wanted to fling his arms around him and explain that he always loved him always in the stupid way teenagers do, and his dad was away now, no-one would hurt him, no-one would hurt them, but he knew he couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair. Frank had probably already moved on. He just had to thank him. He froze a few feet away from the booth, his body physically shaking, before he forced himself forward and slid in the bench next to Frank, keeping his eyes fixed forward and trying not to cry. But when he tried to talk, nothing really came out.

Frank slowly lifted his head when he sensed movement by the table, expecting the waitress and forcing his expression into something that resembled a smile. It wasn't her fault his life sucked. Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw though, his eyes widening and lips parting stupidly and... fuck. He looked different. His clothes fit him better, emphasizing his wiry body instead of making him look too small in baggy pants, and his hair was mussed in that 'I don't give a shit' way that far too many hipster assholes wished they could pull off half as well as the boy now sitting next to him. But it was Mikey, undoubtedly Mikey, and for all the stupid, desperate fantasies that he'd played through his head on what he'd do if they ever run into each other again, none of them seemed to happen. He didn't confidently walk up to him and smile or tackle him around the waist or open his arms for the tearful inevitable hug. Instead he just stared, the name "Mikey" forming softly on his lips, his expression open and almost a little sad since it's not like anything was going to come of this.

"Hey."

Something hurt in Mikey's chest seeing Frank up close, the way he was looking at him. He'd never hurt someone before, not like that, and knowing he was the one who did it- he gulped and looked down, smiling in return, though the smile was like Frank's, forced and pained, his fingers curling under his hands on the table.

"Hey Frank."

Frank chewed at his lip, trying to push the memories of the hospital out of his mind, the anger and the hurt and the confusion doing nothing that was productive at the moment. Mikey was here and he wasn't hurt anymore and if his dad had been telling the truth his abusive father was in jail. That's what mattered.

"Are... are you hungry?" he asked quietly, his voice maybe a little too hopeful which he cursed himself for. But at this point he didn't care if it was pathetic. Not if it meant spending a little bit of time with the other boy.

"Y-yeah I am." Mikey grinned awkwardly, brushing his hair out of his eyes and breaking at the fact the Frank was still being cordial to him after what he'd fucking- said to him. Done to him. "H-how've. You been." He smiled. "Yo-you didn't go see Bouncing Souls. I-I thought you liked them."

It took Frank a moment to process the question, a slow and dorky grin breaking out over his face, laughing softly before it faded to a simple smile. "Yeah, I mean, I dunno. I didn't really feel like going." Because it wouldn't have made him happy. Because he didn't want to be happy if it meant losing himself and forgetting. He paused though, raising an amused eyebrow despite the fact that his heart was clenching in pain at just being near the other boy. "So wait, you went?"

Mikey side-smiled at him, leaning on his hand and nodding slightly, trying to keep his tone conversational. "Ye-yeah, actually. Was a good show. I- just," went to try and see you, "Di-didn't see you there. Thought I might."

Frank's eyes widened before looking away, trying not to make assumptions that would end up hurting him even more. "Why, uh," he mumbled, back to poking ice with his straw. "Why would you want to see me?" It was a stupid question and he winced as soon as it passed his lips. He felt like he was pandering, begging for some kind of scrap of happiness.

One look at Frank's reaction and Mikey couldn't take it anymore, didn't care if it meant being rejected and denied, he just, couldn't. In a moment he was sliding his arms around Frank's middle like the first time they were here, slowly pulling himself close and hugging tight, his fists bunching the fabric of Frank's jacket, his head tucked in the crook of his shoulder.

He tried not to cry.

"Frank. Frank. He said h-h-he'd- b-beat you- k-k-kill- you-" he clung harder and shook his head. "I-I had, to make you go. Beca-cause." His breaths were short in an attempt to not let them become something embarrassingly close to sobs. "Frank."

It took Frank a few startled moments of simultaneous epiphanies to grasp what was going on. The words sunk in slowly like dripping honey that surrounded his brain and his heart and had his arms lifting to wrap back around Mikey's waist. The feel of the other boy's hands in his shirt and face in his neck, like nothing had changed. And it was too much. The emotional ups and downs and the realization that Mikey hadn't meant what he said- He buried his face in Mikey's shoulder when the tears finally came, shoulders trembling with the effort to not completely lose control of himself. He loved him so much it hurt, so much he couldn't stand it, and all this time they'd only been apart because Mikey had wanted to protect him. Mikey had wanted to protect him. No words came out as he clung to the other boy, gasping softly in a choked sob when his need to breathe became overwhelming. This whole time, this whole fucking time, he hadn't cried. Not when he'd gotten expelled, not when he'd left the hospital, not once during the weeks he'd gone on living not knowing what had happened to Mikey. But this... it was too fucking much.

Feeling Frank's chest shudder and the hot puff of his breath and his arms wrapping around him made it all seem a lot more real, and then Mikey was crying and burying closer, holding Frank just like Frank was holding him, his murmurs very quiet in his collar, quick and breathless, only for Frank to hear, "I'm so sorry Frank, so sorry. I-I'm only okay because of you. You're the smartest kid I've ev-er known. And- I think I just, I l-love you so much Frank. So much it hurts."

Frank had never wanted to let himself believe that this could happen. The pessimist in him had always insisted that if he clung to the hope that it would all work out it would only make it worse when he didn't. And he loved Mikey. He'd told himself that as long as he was okay, it didn't matter. That he was out there living his life, alive and okay and that was enough. But now he was here and he was saying he loved him back and when the tears finally let up enough he couldn't help but laugh.

"I love you too," he finally managed to whisper, smiling against the now moist fabric of Mikey's shirt. "And I'm just- I’m so fucking glad you're okay."

Mikey clung tighter, savoring it for a moment, that he was actually here and Frank was actually hugging him and saying he loved him too before he wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve and laughed, pulling back and blinking rapidly at Frank, grinning shakily.

"Ye-yeah, me too. That concert almost k-killed me, you know. Some guy gro-groped my ass. Seriously."

Frank was laughing outright now, the tone of Mikey's voice doing things to him that he thought he'd never feel again. "Well I'll go with you next time," he said with a toothy grin, reaching out to brush a tear off the other boy's cheek with his thumb for all that his own face was still blotchy and wet. "And I'll kick anyone's ass who tries to fuck with you. Deal?" It was such a simple statement but he let Mikey interpret it as he would, just wanting to keep that smile on his face.

Mikey's smile softened, because in the time he'd spent with Frank, he'd come to realize- this is how Frank says I love you. He sat still for a moment before nodding and grinning, "'Kay. Just the two of us, right?". He leaned forward to place quickly a light kiss on the other boy's cheek before settling back in the bench, guiding his arm to sling over his shoulder. His eyes wandered to Frank's forearm, noticing the new and vibrant colors, the design. His fingers reached out to trace it.

"New."

Frank actually blushed at the kiss to his cheek, even more so at the soft, tentative touches to his arm. The design was still a little sensitive, about a week old, and the contact sent shivers down his spine.

"Yeah, I figured I should do something big since I don't have to worry about dress code anymore." He paused, a little amused at himself at the thought he'd put behind it. "It's Our Lady of Sorrows."

Mikey smiled, the phrase doing funny things to his heart, pulling Frank's arm closer by the wrist and tracing the eyes.

"It's beautiful." He wanted to touch it more and kiss it, but thought maybe it wouldn't be a really normal thing to do in a diner.

Frank wasn't even hungry anymore, it felt like having Mikey here with him fulfilled any real need he could want.

"Hey, um," his voice was soft, his other arm tightening around Mikey's shoulders. "Are you doing anything today?" The question seemed so innocent, but Frank couldn't shake the fact that Mikey's father was in jail. He didn't have to go home. Not to that home anyways. The implications were almost staggering. "Cause I mean... I'm not."

Mikey smiled, still staring the tattoo. It embodied everything he'd fought through, was still dealing with, and yet, it was so beautiful, and he loved it, when it was on Frank. And that question Frank asked, it was so oddly embedded in their relationship. It was what made him stand by the gym and wait for a ride, what got him out of his house when his parents were gone, and now it was like- it was starting something new and possibly better than everything else put together.

"N-no. I'm not. Doing anything at all."

Frank just smiled, warmed by the fact that Mikey seemed so fond of the design that meant so much to him. Of the majesty and the hypocrisy and the personal loss of it all. And yet he wanted to see his face, wanted to look in his eyes, placing the tip of his finger under Mikey's chin to tilt it up just enough, ducking forward to press a light kiss against his lips.

"Wanna come over?" he murmured, breathing the words out so close to his skin, keeping his fingers carefully cupping the side of the other boy's face.

Mikey didn't know what was behind 'come over'. If it was playing videos games, he'd like that. He didn't have any, and he was itching for more button-mashing and muscled girls in thongs. If it was ordering a pizza, Mikey liked that too, he liked how they made it near Frank's house. And if it was making out a little and laughing and touching and holding, Mikey'd like that most of all, because he still felt kind of weird about jerking off and he'd just really, really fucking missed being with Frank. He pshed out the side of his mouth and said, "You know I-I do."

In all the time that Frank had known Mikey he'd never heard the other boy speak with that kind of confidence. And it made him smile, a more genuine and heartfelt expression of emotion than he'd felt since that day in the library when they'd adjusted each other's clothes and made pipe-dream plans about moving away together and getting an apartment and starting a life.

"Come on then," he smirked, giving Mikey's shoulder a soft and playful shove since he was blocking him in, tossing some bills down onto the table to cover the coffee, suddenly giddy since they could do fucking anything.

Mikey beamed and pushed Frank back, taking his hand when he plopped back down on the seat and laughing and pulling him to his feet. He couldn't resist quickly hugging him again once he was up, his arms loose at the small of his back, leaning his forehead on his shoulder for a moment before pulling back and dragging him in the direction of the door.

"C'monnn-" He didn't know why he was grinning like an idiot, he just, was. This was good.

Frank couldn't help but laugh once they were outside. Mikey was fighting back, playing along, acting more like a normal teenager than he ever had before. And it was fucking doing things to Frank. With their fingers twined together, Frank gave Mikey a soft pull in the direction of his car, he stumbled backwards until his spine hit against the smooth metal of the door, yanking Mikey against his chest and pressing their lips together and fuck anyone who was watching from inside the diner. Feeling the heat of the other boy's body against him and his breath against his skin was what had woken him up countless nights during their time apart, leaving him starving for it.

Mikey was giddy, barely able to contain himself, and when Frank was backing up with that grin on his face, he had to press forward, eagerly stepping on his feet on accident, his momentum and the tug on his hand sending him crashing into the other boy with an 'oomph' when they finally reached the car, and then Frank was kissing him and he'd never kissed back like he was now, quickly opening his mouth and pressing his tongue between Frank's lips and exhaling hard through his nose, humming a quiet 'mm' because he needed this so bad and he didn't even know why he did it, but he pressed a knee between Frank's thighs and didn't move it, tilting his head like Frank had done the first day they met and kissing him at deeper at the new angle, cupping his face in both of his hands and beaming. All the air seemed to rush out of Frank's lungs, utterly melting under Mikey's touch, his hands tangling desperately into the back of his shirt.

"Shit," he hissed out though the smile remained on his face, breathless and wanton with his hair ruffled and shoved up at odd angles from where he writhed against the car. This was the side of Mikey he'd always known was there, had always suspected was waiting under the surface, confident and beautiful and eager to dish it out as much as he took it. And they were fucking outside in a parking lot and he didn't even care, pulling needily against the other boy’s shirt as he ground against his leg, kissing him back with all the enthusiasm and love as he could manage.

Mikey closed his eyes for a moment, just to feel it, Frank's body writhing underneath him and the cool steel of the car under his fingers and Frank's breath on his neck and then they were open again, grinning toothily at him and holding his thigh up a little higher, resting his knee against the door so Frank could get better leverage, and then he just had to watch him grind, watch his face change expressions and frown and grin, because this was one of the reasons he loved Frank so much, he was so pretty to watch. He giggled a little at how into it Frank was getting, Frank always seemed to get horribly into anything he was doing at the moment, and ducked down to kiss his ear, suck the lobe in his mouth and tug a little before he had to pull back and look at his face again. He just couldn't decide what to do, there was too much, and he finally settled on cradling the other boy close, cupping his face while the other hand stroke flat-palmed up and down his side. He had to laugh in disbelief when Frank moaned.

"Oh my g-god, we're doing this in a parking lot."

Frank practically whimpered at the thought of stopping but this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. It was fun and all but the things his mind were screaming for involved both of them getting very naked and that just wasn't appropriate to do outside next to a diner that was right on the highway. And it wasn't a sense of modesty that had him whispering "Get in the car," with a wicked grin on his lips but rather a sense of urgency to make the unexpected reunion what it deserved to be. It pained him to nudge Mikey's leg out of his crotch, reaching blindly behind him to shove his key in the door, wondering if they'd even make it back to his house without needing to pull over and fuck in the car.

Mikey allowed Frank to squirm out of the pin, a coy smirk plastered on his face as the other boy panted and reached behind him to unlock the door, and he almost clambered in before he quickly shoved forward again, arms vicing Frank's shoulders firm in place against the metal, kicking his feet apart and resuming his rough assault on his crotch. He just needed to be near him again, feel him again, just for a second before they left. He laughed and ran his hand up Frank's hair and kissed his temple, rubbing his knee against him hard, molding their bodies together.

"S-see? How does it feel to have someone pin you when you're trying to get away, huh?" He gave a final grind, groaned for show and then carefully placed Frank to the side, playfully bopping the side of his head before climbing into the passenger seat.

Frank was left breathless, his jaw hanging open and eyes half closed in rapture, moaning softly when Mikey pulled away and got in the car. The little smack to the head only riled him further, scrambling in after the other boy with a wolfish grin on his face, his desires fiery and pulsing in his veins. Before he'd always been afraid to push it with Mikey, scared that he'd hurt the other boy or traumatize him but this, this was bringing out an aggressive lust in Frank that had his heartbeat hammering against the inside of his ribcage, able to think of little else as the seatbelt snapped into place and the engine roared, pulling out of the parking space with a heated grin in the other boy's direction before turning his attention to the road, resting a hand on Mikey's thigh as he drove.

Mikey fiddled with the dashboard controls, changing radio stations and turning the air on and off just because he could. Once everything was to his liking, he suspiciously eyed Frank's lap, though his expression lightened considerably at what he saw.

"Y-yeah, you better be wearing a seatbelt." He folded his arms and acted like he wasn't really as turned on as he was, looking out the window and playing at patient, when he finally internally shrugged and figured 'who am I kidding' and unbuckled his own belt, rising to his knees like a spy-hopping prairie dog to see how far the other cars were from Frank's untinted driver window before smirking in satisfaction and hunching low, carefully avoiding the gear shift with a graceful arch in his back as he ran his palms down Frank's jeans and laid his head on his thigh with a faux kind of chastity. He looked up at him with wide eyes and a half-smile, carefully placing his mouth in a danger zone like he didn't mean to do it.

"G-good thing you can dr-drive,' he stated conversationally, 'We woulda h-had to take the bus home." Frank's breath caught in his throat, swallowing hard as his eyes were dragged away from the road just long enough to take in the sight of what Mikey was doing, the simple act alone making him twitch in his pants.

"Be careful down there," he murmured as if he weren't seconds away from threading his fingers into the other boy's hair and thrusting into his face, tightening his hands around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white with strain. "I'm trying to drive here." But he couldn't keep the smile out of his voice or his thighs from squirming, a little off balance by the forward way Mikey was acting. Not that he was complaining.

Mikey smiled and closed his eyes- the seats were close enough together that it wasn't uncomfortable, really, and Frank's house wasn't far. And while part of it was to tease him, most of it was because Mikey just couldn't not stand being near him somehow. At least, for right now. Because it'd been weeks of hugging himself in the covers and pretending it was Frank holding him and not just how tight he tucked the blankets, and if he could just, touch their bodies together a bit, he'd be happy. It was that innocent kind of affection which made him inch forward and nose Frank's shirt up above the button of his jeans, humming appreciatively against the warmth of the skin he found underneath and curling his arm around Frank's torso in a half-embrace.

"I can't wait. T-to get home." And that wasn't meant to tease, that was the truth.

Frank swallowed the nothing in his throat to steady himself, smiling down at Mikey and resting a hand on the back of his neck. The way the other boy said 'home' was doing things to his heart, stirring a sense of completion in him that had him pressing down on the acceleration a little harder, taking the familiar turns until he was at the foot of his parent's ornate driveway, still threading through Mikey's hair as if he were petting him, enjoying the quiet sound of his breathing. He couldn't help but murmur out "We're home," as he shut off the engine, tugging softly at the back of Mikey's shirt to get him to sit up.

Mikey had to rub his eyes when he pulled up at the purr of the car cutting off and promptly fell forward to kiss Frank again, slowly this time, sleepier, his whole body resting heavy against the other boy's. His whisper was very quiet.

"Y-you know. I didn't think I'd get to come back." Nodding, Frank kissed him back, thumb brushing along his angular jaw.

"I know," he answered, pressing their foreheads together. "I didn't think. Didn’t think I'd ever see you again." It was as if time had frozen inside the car, unsnapping his seatbelt to move a little closer to Mikey but not yet making to get out. They'd done the crying, they'd done the passionate making out, and now, right now, he just wanted desperately to hold the other boy against him, kissing his temple, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Mikey smiled wide, his eyes still closed, shifting his hips and slipping in front of the wheel to straddle Frank's thighs, quickly relaxing and laying his head in the crook of his shoulder, his hands gentle and open on Frank's sides. It felt comfortable, being held, and he quickly realized he could go to sleep like this, melted in Frank's lap.

"...This was always my favorite, F-Frank," he mumbled honestly. When you hold me.

Frank's breath was warm against Mikey's cheek, peppering little kisses against his skin as he relaxed underneath him, threading his fingers together behind the small of his back.

I know," he whispered again, happy in a way he couldn't describe just to hear his name on Mikey's lips. "Come on," he continued after a moment, giving his shoulder a soft push. "Let's go up to my room if we're gonna fall asleep."

Mikey nodded, though neither of them made a move to get out for a good few minutes.