On your knees // Bandom

10. Good Times

^^ also a quality music video 10/10

Frank rang Jamia the next day.
"Hey, gurl."
"Frankie I know you're gay but I refuse to let you call me gurl."
"Whatever. Meet me for icecream?"
"Any particular reason?"
"Yes. I want icecream."
"Will you buy me icecream?"
"No. But I will tell you what happened last night."
"And why would I want to know that?"
"Because, Jamia, darling-"
"Not darling either."
"You can't shorten Jamia!" He complained "what am I supposed to call you?"
"Your Highness works?" She suggested.
"Should I have called Ryan instead?"
"Ryan would let you call him darling?"
"Oh, definitely."
"See you in twenty," she hung up and he rolled his eyes at the empty room.

She was true to her word and sitting with her legs over the end of a bench when he arrived. New Jersey shore was painted in pretty colours and had the ice cream of a beach town but in reality it was wet and grey and the 'beach' was harsh pebbles rather than sand. But the ice cream was good. Even in October.

They liked to sit on the rocks behind the high street, and were there now, two cones of chocolate between them.
"So," Jamia asked teasingly  "How's Gerard?"
Frank grinned "Taken."
"The concert went well, then?"
"It was amazing ohmygod."
"Who kissed who first, I want details, Frank."
"He kissed me, I kinda freaked out, said I loved him, I don't know I can't really remember, then in the car he apologised and asked if he could kiss me and, yeah."
"You said you loved him?"
"I do not know what I said I had just been kissed by Gerard Way, Jamia, I was very much not in control."
She laughed.

~

Nobody noticed anything different come Monday, sure Frank and Gerard were sat in practically the same seat flirting a ridiculous amount, but that was nothing short of ordinary. Ray saw them kissing out of the corner of his eye and then went back to his conversation, nothing registering in his mind as abnormal.

"I think I'm gonna come out my mum." This was, what? The third time Frank had decided this but from his half-scared voice and the set of his jaw, Gerard was pretty sure that this time he'd actually do it.
"Y'know, when I picked you up for the Smiths gig, she pulled me aside and said that she knew I was gay and that she wanted me to feel welcome and accepted."
"She did what?" Franks eyes widened.
"Your mums a queen, Frankie, you should tell her."
Frank nodded. "Come round to mine then, on friday. I can't do it without you."
Gerard smiled at his boyfriend and cupped his face with one hand, silently asking if he could kiss him. Frank leaned forward and met his lips.

Pete interrupted them.
"Wait! You two just kissed."
Frank leaned back and lit up his phone. "38 minutes."
"What?" Pete was confused. Mikey was laughing.
"It took you 38 minuets to realise."
Pete turned to Mikey. "You knew about this?"
"Yeah."
"And didn't tell me, boyfriend?"
Mikey started laughing more, everyone was looking now.
"So mission frerard worked?" Ryan asked.
"I guess," Frank shot his boyfriend half a smile.
"I knew." Said Jamia. All heads turned.
"And you didn't think to mention it? There are so many bets riding on this!"
"I wanted to see how long it took for you to work out that they were literally making out in the window."
Ryan nodded "Fair enough."
"Avez-vous trouvé si c'est vraiment dix pouces?" Patrick asks cooly and Gerard blushes. Patrick had, however, forgotten that Mikey also spoke french and regretted his words instantly as Mikeys face went red and he choked on air.
The conversation ended there.

~

Pete and Mikey were back in Mikeys bedroom, in the most innocent use of the phrase. Gerards bedroom was next to them and he was playing some stupid love song far too loud. Mikey and Pete were using this to dance, because they were also stupidly in love.

Pete stopped suddenly "We should hang up some mistlefoe."
"What?"
"Like mistletoe but you have to fight whoever's underneath."
"Pete it's October."
"So? It can be a halloween thing?"
"I bet you wouldn't even fight me."
"True....." Pete trailed off and met his boyfriends gaze. He reached up and cupped Mikeys face.
"Yeah if you're too short to kiss me you aint gonna fight me."
He leaned down anyway, but Pete used the opportunity to put him in a headlock and throw him onto the bed. "Who said I couldn't fight, bitch."

Gerard heard the thud and turned his music up.

Pete leaned over Mikey "What did I win?"
"My heart."
"Bullshit. I already owned that."
"What would you like to win, Mr Way?"
"The meaning of life."
"Which is?"
"Pizza."
"You want Pizza?"
"Always."

Mikey rolled his eyes and kissed him, flipping them over so Pete was lying on the bed.
"Can I not just kiss you?"
Pete pouted, all big lips and brown eyes and childish innocence.
"Fine, whatever," Mikey got up. "Pizza."

They did not notice the doorbell half an hour later, and Gerard had to answer it.
"Hey, Dall, whats up?"
"A pizza for Pete Wentz."
"You deliver pizza?"
"Tuesdays and Thursdays, have been all semester."
"Cool," Gerard was very conflicted on the tipping thing. It wasn't his pizza, for gods sake, and he and Dallon were friends, but not close enough friends to just owe him food or something. He ended up awkwardly digging out 15% and handing it to him.
"See you around?"
Dallon shrugged and walked off.

~

Patrick wanted siblings. He was the only child of a French chef and an American accountant. Bilingual and musically talented, his interests had been cultivated from a young age, but he really wanted to have siblings.

Ray, with two brothers and a sister, disagreed. Andre was pretty cool, usually, and had introduced him to all of his favourite bands, but now he had gone to collage and left Ray with the twins. Sophie and James were cute, granted, but also a handful.

Ray and Patrick were now lying on Patricks queen sized bed, watching the fan slowly turn on the ceiling, like it was catching their silent daydreams in its blades. Ray was playing guitar in his head, composing rhythms he was sure to reject if he ever wrote them down. Patrick was thinking about Pete, who was still his best friend. Despite the way he acted glued to Mikey. They hadn't talked in a week and his smile was still just as bright, just as genuine. He wondered why he cared so much, they still spent time together and now he had Rays curls and melodies to entertain him. He just missed Petes classic smile and the way his hair fell over one eye.

Ray had always been second best, not the girl child his mother had hoped for, not as young and innocent as James, nor as mature as Andre. Perhaps he was the most talented, but he would never show his family that. Andre had seen him play, not his best, but still something. He was most comfortable around his friends, playing in time with Frank, letting Brendons lyrics direct them. It was suspected that they were Ryans lyrics that Brendon stole, but they were good and Ryan was self conscious, so Brendons they were dubbed.

What Ray really wanted was a proper band, but there was little promise in the punk band aspect of New Jersey shoreline. He could start one, but the music room squad, as Gerard called them, had made some sort of agreement to not do that. Ray didn't really understand it.

Patrick's train of thought was still stopped at the Pete Wentz station, and some might say Patrick had been there too long, but they used to be best friends and his jealousy of Mikey only stemmed from him missing the other boy. He was straight, anyway. Not that he was even thinking like that.

Patrick shook his head, trying to banish the thought that he was straight, he totally was, but the fact that he had mentioned that meant that somewhere deep he'd had a thought about Pete that may suggest otherwise. Which he definitely didn't.

He jumped as Ray voiced his thoughts aloud. "Do you ever feel second-best?"
"Always."
Ray turned at the tone of his voice. "You're not second best to me."
And oh fuck, because Patrick couldn't say the same, because Pete would always come first. He didn't know how to change that.