The Fear of Falling Apart
a Trikey fan fiction
Michael was out running errands and Trevor was alone and bored. Not a good combination and potentially dangerous not only to himself but to everyone on the block.
Trevor was sitting in the den, sprawled out across the black leather couch in a pair of hot pink booty shorts and a too-tight and extremely worn out Panic! At The Disco band tee he'd bought from Hot Topic ages ago.
Michael wasn't a big fan of most of Trevor's musical tastes but T knew he was was starting to get partial to PATD, even if it was only because Trevor had been going through a mid-life "Emo" phase lately and blasting nothing but the latest Panic album since it dropped.
Trev liked most of Mike's musical preferences but you really had to be in the right mood to listen to Broadway and old movie soundtracks from the days when Technicolor was just invented, if not movies from before then. Trev liked deep, thumping bass lines and powerful vocals, especially ones that leant a mouthpiece to the struggles of depression. Mike might call him a hipster—and that might be slightly true—but deep down Trevor Phillips was more punk and Emo than hipster...
Trevor huffed a sigh of boredom, his mind wandering away from the mindless reality show on the big screen and to other ways to occupy the time before M came back from running around.
'Could masturbate....' he thought then shook his head at himself. 'No, you've already done that three times today, you're gonna wear your dick down to nothing...'
He stood up and stretched, wandering aimlessly around the room, lightly tracing his long fingers over the furniture. He paused when he came to the grand piano.
It had been a while...
He slid onto the bench, wincing a little as the cool, polished wood came into contact with the back of his exposed thighs. He rested his fingers lightly on the ivory keys and bit the inside of his lip as he pondered what to play. It had been so long he wondered if he'd even be able to play anything still, and if he could, if it would sound any good or would be there be more bum notes that music?
Snapping out of his thoughts, Trevor quickly drew his hands back as they hovered over the G-note.
NOT the G-note...Every goth, scene, and Emo kid in the neighbourhood would descend on the mansion in a panicked frenzy upon hearing the first note of "Welcome To The Black Parade", and that was the last thing he wanted—though it would be fun to scream insults at a bunch of weird kids that were bound to be a sobbing mess when they remembered that My Chemical Romance was a long dead band. Split years ago, never to regroup and thus shattering millions of fans hearts.
Trevor took a breath, cracked his neck and, hoping he didn't hit too many bad notes, struck a higher ivory in an instantly recognisable pattern...
Michael pulled into the driveway, half expecting to see something on fire. After all, he had left Trevor alone for two and a half hours and Lord knew Trevor only needed two minutes to start a shitstorm.
Mike hurriedly grabbed as much shopping as he could in one go and quickly made his way towards the front door of the mansion. He paused when he heard the distinct sound of the grand piano...and...singing??
Michael opened the door as quietly and slowly as he could in case it stopped...whatever was going on inside, and speedily tiptoed his way inside.
His ears had not deceived him: Trevor was indeed singing while playing the piano.
"This is gospel for the vagabonds, neerdowells and insufferable bastards..."
'Who knew he could sing,' Michael thought. It was true, when driving around Trevor would usually screech and borderline scream off key to the radio—much to Mike's annoyance and amusement—so hearing the Canadian actually singing, and WELL, was a nice surprise.
"Confessing their apostates, lead away by imperfect imposter...Oh whoa oh oh oh oh....Oh whoa oh oh oh oh..."
Mike leaned against the wall at the entrance to the den, totally enraptured and enthralled in listening to his partner's low husky-yet-smooth voice and watching his fingers dance across the ivories. It was mesmerising to see the brash and often violent man expressing his gentler side.
"Don't try and sleep through the end of the world and bury me alive, 'cause I wont give up without a fight..."
Trevor threw his head back, belting out the chorus and seemingly thoroughly enjoying himself in what he was doing.
"....'Cause these words are knives and often leave scars, the fear of falling apart, and truth be told I never was yours....The fear, the fear of falling apart..."
As Trevor continued the outdo, Michael couldn't stop himself from setting down the shopping bags and applauding.
Trevor jerked upright, his eyes widening in shock and horror at being caught in such a vulnerable position. His hands smacked the keys causing a cacophony of notes as he whipped his head around to stare at Michael in absolute deer-in-the-headlights terror.
"How long have you been there?!" he asked in a horrified whisper, feeling his cheeks flushing a warm pink from the collarbone up.
"Long enough," Mike replied, walking over to his partner. He smirked. "Y'know, that blush sure compliments those booty shorts, T. And I gotta hand it to ya, you're pretty good on the keys."
Trevor quickly got up, grabbed his blanket off the couch and scrambled to get away from that embarrassing scene. He was absolutely horrified that Mike had caught him off guard. He'd never live this down. Not in a month of Sundays would Mike ever let him live down the fact that he caught Trevor being the ultimate Brendon Urie fanboy....in booty shorts no less!
Trev reached the bedroom and quickly dove under the covers of the king-sized bed, trying to hide from his shameful Emo-moment.
He could hear Mike chuckling to himself as he came up the stairs. "I mean it, T, you're actually pretty fuckin good!"
Oh yes...He would spend the next few hours plotting his revenge on his best friend and partner. Michel Townley-De Santa would pay for this. How, he wasn't sure, maybe post pictures of Mikey doing sunrise yoga in tight fitting pants on LifeInvader.
Some way.... some how, he would get Mike back for nearly giving him a heart attack.
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Falling Apart (P1)
ФанфикTrikey and band trash basically Trevor is left to his own devices while Mike is out shopping for a few hours. Trev is currently in his mid life Emo-phase and is trying to alleviate the boredom that is sitting at home alone. He happens upon the gran...
