oliviafic: (pete//lovinspike247)
Olivia ([personal profile] oliviafic) wrote2008-04-11 06:47 pm

untitled ficlet (mcr, gerard/mikey)

Fandom: Band RPS: MCR
Characters & Pairings: Gerard/Mikey. Kind of.
Word Count: 942
Summary: The problem, Gerard thinks morosely, as he watches Mikey pick out chords on his bass, is that he read The Mists of Avalon at an impressionable age. Fucking Marion Zimmer Bradley should come with a warning label.
Warnings for Marion Zimmer Bradley and really cracked-out incest.

Special Disclaimer: OH MY GOD THIS IS FICTION. If you are or know the people on whom these characters are based, PLEASE go away, and PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE do not tell me if you read it. I’M SO SORRY, GERARD.

[livejournal.com profile] sweetvalleyslut was brave enough to give this a quick read-through. The credit for Ray's line about the brotherly nipple licking goes to an anonymeme genius. This one is all for [personal profile] jjtaylor. It also doesn't have a title, because I am ashamed.

The problem, Gerard thinks morosely, as he watches Mikey pick out chords on his bass, is that he read The Mists of Avalon at an impressionable age. Fucking Marion Zimmer Bradley should come with a warning label: SCARRING TO YOUNG MINDS. Or maybe DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE AN ATTRACTIVE SIBLING.

Mikey looks up, frowning, and the dim light of the lounge casts weird shadows across his face. His hair is standing on end, but his long fingers on the bass are beautiful. "You're thinking too loud, Gee."

"Sorry," Gerard says. Possibly they've all been stuck together on this bus for too long. "I could go away?" Maybe he should try sleeping. He doesn't actually remember the last time he did that.

Mikey shakes his head. "No, stay. I'm not getting this right, anyway." His fingers still. "What were you thinking about?"

There's a right and a wrong answer to that question. "Did you ever read The Mists of Avalon?"

"Nooo." Mikey wrinkles his nose. "Isn't that the one you were obsessed with when you were in eighth grade? With King Arthur and shit?"

It's the "and shit" part that Gerard's worried about. It's not like he even has an obscure religious ritual or a bizarre upbringing by nutty lesbian priestesses to fall back on, he just thinks his brother is hot. "Yeah, that's the one," he says. "I was thinking about rereading it." Unlike Morgaine, Gerard is perfectly clear that Mikey is, in fact, his brother. Although also unlike Morgaine, he can't get pregnant. There's a bright side to everything.

"Isn't it like two thousand pages?" Mikey asks doubtfully. "I remember you clomping around like a hunchback because you were always carrying it in your stupid backpack."

"It was a fucking cool backpack!" Gerard protests. It's still somewhere in the back of a closet in his basement, all torn straps and fraying Batman decals and snarky buttons with slogans that scream 1989.

Mikey rolls his eyes. It's a disturbingly good look for him. "Whatever."

"Anyway," Gerard says, "I remember it with great fondness." Mostly he remembers jerking off over the raunchy bits, but it's not his fault that he was exposed to incest and threesomes and sex with people in trees before he was exposed to actual porn. Life before the internet was a dark, dark time.

"I really don't care what you read, Gee," Mikey says, fingers plucking at his bass again. "But there's no room in this band for a hunchback."

Gerard wishes, uselessly, that Mikey was still the awkward, gawky, unattractive kid he remembers from his Mists of Avalon-scarred adolescence. Mikey is still awkward and gawky, but it's undercut, these days, with a current of unadulterated bass-playing sex, and it's just not fucking fair that he's Gerard's fucking little brother.

"This is a liberal and open-minded band," he says, "we wouldn't reject someone just on the basis of hunchbacked-ness. It would totally go against our principles."

Mikey laughs. "Even your open-mindedness has limits, Gee."

"Does not," Gerard says, which is, regrettably, kind of true. His aggressively liberal-minded tendencies are proving a little hard to handle right now, double-entendre notwithstanding.

Ray comes in as Mikey is volleying back a "Does so," and rolls his eyes at both of them. "What are you arguing about now?" he asks, sitting down on the couch next to Mikey.

"Do you think there's such a thing as too much liberal thinking?" Gerard asks him. Ray is a voice of reason, and Gerard is relatively certain that he, at least, was not damaged by the early application of Marion Zimmer Bradley. He's not so sure about Frank, and Bob is an enigma.

"Yes," Ray says tentatively, eyeing Gerard warily. He probably doesn't want to get in the middle of a Way Brothers Spat. Gerard wouldn't mind having him in the middle of a different sort of Way Brothers Spat, though, and clearly the problem here is that he needs to get laid.

"I need to get laid," he says, apropos of everything. Mikey and Ray blink, startled.

"You have been awfully touchy-feely lately," Mikey ventures, at last.

Ray sighs. "I keep telling you, Gee, seriously. You have got to stop licking Mikey's nipples on stage. It gives people the wrong impression."

Ray would have a point, except for the fact that it's not the wrong impression at all. Gerard shifts in his chair, trying not to look guilty, and Mikey's eyes narrow.

"Hmm," Mikey says, one long finger tapping against the neck of his bass. "So what does The Mists of Avalon have to do with your total lack of inhibitions?"

"I have inhibitions!" Gerard exclaims, too loudly. He really does, though. For example, he has only ever licked Mikey's nipples on stage.

"Prove it," Mikey says. There's a dangerous glint in his eyes, and Gerard should probably not find it as sexy as he does. Come to think of it, Mordred was really pretty cool.

"Okay," Gerard says, "I will sit over here for the rest of the trip to Houston, and not lick your nipples once."

One corner of Mikey's mouth quirks up, and Ray clears his throat. "I'm going to go back to bed," he says. He looks mildly queasy.

"Feel better, Ray," Gerard calls, concerned, as Ray leaves the lounge. Ray snorts. "Uh-huh."

"So okay," Mikey says, when Ray is gone, "Moratorium on brotherly nipple-licking beginning now." He runs his tongue across his lips, and Gerard tries not to stare. "You could tell me more about The Mists of Avalon, if you wanted," Mikey adds, wickedly, and Gerard puts his head in his hands. This can only end badly.

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