ABC's
folder
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Rating:
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Category:
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Green Day
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,598
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Green Day. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Mike's ABC's
Disclaimer: I do not own them. I make no money.
ABC's
Chapter One: Mike's ABC's
Abstinence. Yes, abstinence. Billie Joe made me wait two months before we could have sex because he was worried if we threw sex intot he mix and broke up, the band would follow suit.
The first time we did he cried, and afterward he whispered to me that he had been afraid of loving me. Imagine . . . Billie Joe afraid.
---
Blowjobs. He's terrible at giving head. He can't control his teeth, he makes faces, his gag reflex is overactive. And he gets this sad little look everytime I give him a blowjob. He wants to, but he can't. Some people are naturals, some will learn, and some never can.
Billie's oral sex dyslexic.
---
Cell phone. Billie Joe is a hopeless romantic. You know how you can put words on the background of a cell phone? Well, his always says something that a twelve-year-old teeny-bopper would scribble on her notebook.
I (Heart) Mike. I Love You, Mike. Mike's mine. Mike is my drug.
And, as if that wasn't bad enough, he has to drag my poor cell phone into the arena.
I (Heart) Billie Joe. Billie Joe (Heart)s Mike.
And when he's in a terrible mood, like he was this morning:
I suck at giving head.
---
Dunno. Billie Joe's favorite word when he was twenty-three. He actually once told a reporter that was his favorite word. Not 'I don't know'. 'Dunno.'
He was in this phase where he wanted to seem a lot tougher than he was. He started it one night when I asked if he thought we'd be together forever. "Dunno."
That was a hard year. Billie didn't want to commit to a relationship and I didn't want to commit to someone who couldn't commit. He finally snapped out of it when I started staying in a separate hotel room. When he asked me why, I said "Dunno".
---
Everything. This is what Billie promised me when we got married. He took it back after I said I wanted kids. Dork. He changed it to 'everything but kids' and then decided kids might happen. ("But I'm not getting pregnant.")
Billie and I wrote our own vows. I can't even remember what I said, but I can remember his almost word for word.
"Mike, I love you and I promise to give you everything. Each day I'll give you a little bit more until you have all of me. I'm not complete without you and once I am yours forever, I know I'll never have to worry again. I want you to have all of me and everything I can give you. I'm yours forever. I love you."
Damn son of a bitch made me cry.
---
Funeral. More specifically, Billie Joe's dad's funeral. It happened about two months after Billie and I met. We were ten and he was crying and holding my hand and hugging me.
We still go and visit the grave sometimes and he holds my hand, cries, and hugs me. It's hard to remember, but it's something in our relationship. Better or worse.
---
Grapefruit. Billie Joe is allergic to grapefruit. Neither one of us knew this when we were sixteen and he decided to eat one at my house for breakfast. That was an interesting trip to the hospital. Billie's red, getting hives, his face is swollen.
I couldn't kiss him for a week without imagining like that. So, of course I would laugh. No sex for a week. Kind of worth it to see Billie's allergic reaction to grapefruit, though. School pictures that day, too. At least the swelling went down by then.
---
Hank. For two painful months when we were eighteen, Billie Joe thought his dick deserved a name. So he named it Hank. Yes, Hank. We were stoned. So he named his dick Hank.
I still can't get over this. Why would anyone want to name their dick Hank? He changed it eventually. We named the dog Hank.
---
I love you. The first time he said it we were thirteen and had just kissed for the first time. I was shaking and he was trying not to. He grabbed my hand and put it on his heart, then did the same with his.
"Hearts mean love." he said. "So as long as my heart keeps beating, I'll love you."
And anytime we got in a fight or another person found out or someone said 'faggot' in the lunchline, I'd find Billie's pulse. And if I was alone, I'd find mine. Because as long as I could feel it, Billie and I still loved each other.
---
Jailbait. My birthday's in May. Billie's is in February. Three months older than me, six inches shorter. It didn't stop him from calling me 'Jailbait' everyday from his eighteenth birthday until mine.
It made for some pretty interesting sex.
---
Kaylee. November 16, 2001. 1:14 in the morning. Little Miss Green Eyes came into the world. I held her first while Billie stared. He was terrified and holding Beth's (our surrogate mother) hand while I cooed at our daughter.
When he first held her, we both thought he might drop her. He stared at her, as if he expected her to start talking or screaming or crying. She didn't. She stared back and made some sort of sound. Billie said she was trying to sing, but he's weird like that.
Kaylee. He picked the first name. I picked Dawn. I remember how he used to get up in the middle of the night to make sure she was still sleeping. He always fed her at night, always made sure her room was warm enough.
Overprotective to the core. I wonder what's going to happen when she starts dating.
---
Last Year. It's a song Billie Joe rewrites every year for our anniversary. He writes it and sings it to me in the morning. He's been doing it since we were twenty-four. Our first wedding anniversary.
It's always sappy, sweet, mushy. I tease him about it. Lines like "Last year was perfect/This year I promise to love you more than ever" or "I remember the high altitude in the plane/That bathroom will never be the same".
By the end of it we're both crying or laughing and we kiss and make love. It's perfect. It's cliche. But it's Billie.
---
MTV Video Music Awards. Remember in 2006? When Tre ran up to get the award and Billie and I came on from backstage. Apparently we 'smelled like sex' and for good reason. I don't remember who was supposed to be getting ready in that dressing room, but I feel a little bad for them.
But when you've got Billie Joe's hand on your cock and he's teasing you through pants that were too tight to begin with, it's kind of hard to say no. His eyes get this dark want in them, as if lust were a colour. If lust were a colour, it would be Billie Joe's eyes during sex. Dark, glassy green. Perfect.
And he was on the dressing table with his legs wrapped around my waist and we hurried to finish, hurried to end it. I don't know how many people heard us. He was moaning like a whore against my skin and then he kissed me.
I remember that more vividly than anything else that night.
---
Nail polish. Billie Joe likes to wear black nail polish sometimes. If I come home and he's painting his nails, I know exactly what's going to happen after we put Kaylee to bed.
He gets this ego booster or something from the fumes. If Billie Joe is wearing nail polish, he's going to tie me to the bed with those coloured nails. He's going to tease me to the point of breaking and leave me alone for an hour with a raging hard on, then come in to fuck himself on my cock.
I love it when he wears nail polish.
---
October. This is one hell of a month. We got in our first fight in October. Our first fight before we were dating and our first fight while we were dating. The first time our fight got physical was in October. I still have a scar on my hand from his fingernail.
Our first kiss was in October. I remember Billie Joe pressing his lips to mine and me pulling away. When he went to leave, I grabbed him and kissed him again. That was when he said he loved me for the first time, too.
We smoked our first joint in October. Halloween. We decided we were too old for trick-or-treating, so we decided to get high instead.
---
Panic attacks. The first time Billie Joe had a panic attack in front of me, I was twelve and he had just turned thirteen. I had no idea what the fuck was going on. We were watching a movie and he was trying to write something and all of a sudden he just went rigid. Then his breathing was fast. Fast enough that the oxygen he was pulling in didn't reach his lungs.
I thought he was going hysterical and that happened to me once, so I threw a glass of water at him. It worked a little. He responded, but his breathing was still funny, so I got down on my knees in front of him and held onto his chin, counting out "1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . ." It took a few seconds, but his breathing mimicked mine.
That's when he told me he had a panic disorder. He'd always had it, but it got worse after his dad died. He could usually take care of the attacks himself which is why it took nearly three years of knowing him to see him have one.
"I try to write about him." he explained. "But I can't." I took nearly twenty years after that for Billie to be able to write the song he'd been struggling to do.
---
Queer. He can say it now. He says it with pride. "Yeah, that's right. I'm a queer. Any other stupid questions?" But it didn't always used to be like that.
Billie never really cared what other people thought of him, except people like me and his family and Tre. But when people said things it made him question himself and that could hurt. Billie never officially 'came out' to anyone. He denied it to his family until after he moved out.
But we were an item at school. At a big school, no one really cares about fights and suspensions enough to inform your parents. At least, that was the case at ours. Billie had no problem making out with me in front of our lockers like the straight couples did. Had no problem holding my hand. Had no problem kissing me on the cheek or saying a quick 'I love you' when we passed each other in the hallway and had no time for another interaction.
And for the most part we avoided words. We got looks and pushes and the occasional fight. And Billie could take the word 'fag'. I've never understood the difference, but he could take the word 'fag'. He said something about a cigarette and how he smoked and it was nice of them to notice. He could handle 'fag'.
But some kid called him 'queer' at the beginning of sophomore year and he lost it. Broke a nose or something. No teachers saw it and was that fucker really going to report a 'queer' for beating the snot out of him. Yeah, bad joke.
Billie and I ditched school and hung out at a pizza joint until five. He smoked a pack of cigarettes and wouldn' talk about it for a couple of hours. Wouldn't really talk. We were holding hands, but he kept looking over his shoulder.
"I don't like that word." was the first real thing he said.
I finally told him I didn't understand. "I don't get it. You can take 'fag', but you can't take 'queer'?"
"Brian calls me 'queer'." Billie Joe said, naming his stepfather. 'The Dick' as we called him. "He doesn't even know and he calls me it."
"Your mom lets him?"
"She doesn't know." Billie said, removing his hand from mine long enough to take another cigarette and light it. "I hate that word. People call me 'fag' because they know I'm gay, but they don't understand. Brian calls me 'queer' because he hates me. I'd rather people be stupid."
He cried everyday for a year when he heard that word. Not in front of them, of course. He'd go to the restroom or wait until he got home or ditch school. He wouldn't cry in front of me either. But it's not hard to sneak into the restroom or follow a boyfriend.
He still says 'fag' more than he says 'queer', which is a rarity.
---
Right hook. Billie Joe can pack a hell of a punch for someone his height. I've seen quite a bit, but actually feeling it is something else. We were in our early twenties and we were all drunk and at a party after a concert. And Billie Joe wasn't just dancing with people (which he did constantly and I never minded). He was kissing them, too.
Pissed me off after a bit. I didn't really consider it cheating because he was drunk as hell and he moved from one person to the next quicly, but it pissed me off all the same.
So, I grabbed him and pulled him outside, slamming him against the wall.
"What the hell's your problem?" he demanded, rubbing the back of his head.
"What the fuck's yours? You're acting like a fucking whore, Billie Joe!"
He didn't like that. Didn't like it at all. Bruise wouldn't go away for a week. Billie Joe doesn't like being called a 'whore'.
---
Sappy. He's sappy as hell. Billie Joe is one of those romantics that can make you cringe. He's got a box in the closet of all the sappy stuff he's kept from our relationship.
The wrapping paper from the first gifts we ever exchanged as a couple. Every note I ever wrote him. (Which, they really weren't that good. I don't write good letters. They usually just said whatever I wanted to say, I love you, and I signed them. Billie's could take pages.)
The first song we ever wrote together, the original. Something we threw together when we were twelve. Sucked. We never showed it to anyone.
The heart keychain I gave him a rare moment of sappiness. I stole it at a department store after he said I love you.
Lipstick. A tube of red lipstick. Blowjob red. That's the actual name. Now I get to tell you a great story.
Billie Joe and I have never really been into drag. Except once. He didn't expect me to come home and find him like that. He was just 'experimenting' he said later. Wanted to see what a whole face of make-up looked like instead of just eyeliner. We were twenty-six or something.
There was no way he could have passed as a woman. His hair. He hadn't even changed out of his clothes.
He was red as hell and stammering when I opened the bedroom door and he saw my reflection in the mirror. It was kind of cute. "I-I just wanted to t-try it."
I put my arms around him and kissed his cheek. When he kissed mine, it left a lipstick print. And I was hard as a rock. Like I told you before, Billie Joe couldn't give a good blowjob to save his life. But that was the best one, probably because seeing his painted mouth trying to suck my cock was a sight I'd never actually seen before.
Remember, Billie Joe and I have been together since we were thirteen. Neither one of us has ever been with a chick.
That was the closest I ever came. No pun intended.
---
To:
Yeah, that's it. Christmas present tags. Billie Joe will never cease to amaze me. They change every year and none of them are ever the same. This is the one thing I save. I've never had a present from Billie that says 'To: Mike'. He can do better.
'To: The Man I Shower With'. 'To: The Man I Still Beat Off To.' 'To: The Only One I'll Ever Love'. 'To: A Heart That Still Beats'. 'To: The Man Who Stole My Boxers Yesterday'.
That's Billie Joe for you.
---
Umbrellas. Apparently they're evil. Billie refuses to use an umbrella. He told me once that evil spirits hide in the handle and that's why you can't open them indoors. But he thinks the spirits thrive in the outside world, so we don't own a single umbrella.
It's kind of fucked up.
---
Vagina. This is probably Billie's favorite word after every curse in the book. Don't ask me why. He wrote it on our door in permanent marker once. He wrote it on every locker in school. He considered naming his dick 'Vagina'. (I talked him out of it.)
Freak.
---
Worry Rock. Billie Joe wrote this song for me after we had our first big fight. We had been married three years and Kaylee wasn't born yet. I can't really remember how the fight started.
Billie had gone to London for a weekend to see someone and I went home. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw me kiss a guy on the lips before the guy left the house and got into his car. I know that had to look terrible.
He was a friend, an old friend who went to kiss my cheek and I turned my head wrong. But Billie lost it. We'd been on the rocks a bit lately, just from nerves and stress and too much booze. But he lost it. Screaming, crying, words neither of us meant to say.
He got in his car and drove off. I didn't see him for two days.
When he came back, he was drunk and crying and wanted to know everything. So I told him everything, which wasn't a lot. And I explained the kiss. I don't know if he believed me, but he did the next morning after his hangover wore off.
I hate that song.
---
X-Rays. Which isn't actually a copout. Billie Joe got a CAT scan once. Someone suggested it to see if medication might help with his panic attacks.
It scared the everliving shit out of him. He was afraid they'd find something else. He thought he'd have a brain tumor or he'd be schizophrenic. The doctor didn't want me in the room during the scan, but Billie Joe raised hell until he gave in.
No brain tumor. No schizophrenia. And it turned out medication couldn't help Billie's panic attacks.
Talk about a waste.
---
Your Own Disaster. It's a song. Not one of ours. Taking Back Sunday. In 2002, Billie Joe and I considered getting a divorce. Or rather, I considered it out loud and he refused to talk to me.
And he played this song nonstop, turned it up while Kaylee was in school. Screamed the words. Wrote them in the condensation on the bathroom mirror while I was in the shower.
Threw out the CD after we made up and I took divorce off the table.
I can't imagine my life without Billie Joe.
---
Zipper. That's what Billie's undoing right now, so I've got to go.
---------------------
Okay. I know it's not super smutty, but I really like this idea. Hopefully have Billie Joe's up in a day or two. I want your opinion. Should I do a narrator's list of things, a list of things Tre notices, or both. Or something else. Let me know your ideas.
Oh, and the lyrics of both of the real songs ("Worry Rock" and "Your Own Disaster" are below. 'Worry Rock' is property of Green Day and 'Your Own Disaster' is property of Taking Back Sunday.)
Worry Rock
Another sentimental argument and bitter love
Fucked without a kiss again and dragged it through the mud
Yelling at brick walls and punching windows made of stone
The worry rock has turned to dust and fallen on our pride
A knocked down dragged out fight
Fat lips and open wounds
Another wasted night
And no one will take the fall
Where do we go from here?
And what did you do with directions?
Promise me no dead end streets
And I'll guarantee we'll have the road
*
Your Own Disaster
And I wish you weren't worth the wait
cause there's something I'd like to say to you
And I don't think that you know what you've been missing
Cause I don't think that you know what you've been missing
And I dare you to forget
the marks you left across my neck
from those nights when we were both found at our best
Now I could make this obvious and you
you could deny me all in one breath
you could shrug me off your shoulders
And I don't think that you know what you've been missing
Cause I don't think that you know what you've been missing
And I don't think that you know,
I said I don't think you know,
I said I don't think that you know what you've been missing
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
Hey lush, have fun
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
Hey lush, have fun
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun (just forget me, it's that simple)
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
(just forget me, it's that simple)
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun
(just forget me, it's that simple)
Just forget me, it's that simple [11x]
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
(just forget me, it's that simple)
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun
(just forget me, it's that simple)
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Just forget me it's that simple
ABC's
Chapter One: Mike's ABC's
Abstinence. Yes, abstinence. Billie Joe made me wait two months before we could have sex because he was worried if we threw sex intot he mix and broke up, the band would follow suit.
The first time we did he cried, and afterward he whispered to me that he had been afraid of loving me. Imagine . . . Billie Joe afraid.
---
Blowjobs. He's terrible at giving head. He can't control his teeth, he makes faces, his gag reflex is overactive. And he gets this sad little look everytime I give him a blowjob. He wants to, but he can't. Some people are naturals, some will learn, and some never can.
Billie's oral sex dyslexic.
---
Cell phone. Billie Joe is a hopeless romantic. You know how you can put words on the background of a cell phone? Well, his always says something that a twelve-year-old teeny-bopper would scribble on her notebook.
I (Heart) Mike. I Love You, Mike. Mike's mine. Mike is my drug.
And, as if that wasn't bad enough, he has to drag my poor cell phone into the arena.
I (Heart) Billie Joe. Billie Joe (Heart)s Mike.
And when he's in a terrible mood, like he was this morning:
I suck at giving head.
---
Dunno. Billie Joe's favorite word when he was twenty-three. He actually once told a reporter that was his favorite word. Not 'I don't know'. 'Dunno.'
He was in this phase where he wanted to seem a lot tougher than he was. He started it one night when I asked if he thought we'd be together forever. "Dunno."
That was a hard year. Billie didn't want to commit to a relationship and I didn't want to commit to someone who couldn't commit. He finally snapped out of it when I started staying in a separate hotel room. When he asked me why, I said "Dunno".
---
Everything. This is what Billie promised me when we got married. He took it back after I said I wanted kids. Dork. He changed it to 'everything but kids' and then decided kids might happen. ("But I'm not getting pregnant.")
Billie and I wrote our own vows. I can't even remember what I said, but I can remember his almost word for word.
"Mike, I love you and I promise to give you everything. Each day I'll give you a little bit more until you have all of me. I'm not complete without you and once I am yours forever, I know I'll never have to worry again. I want you to have all of me and everything I can give you. I'm yours forever. I love you."
Damn son of a bitch made me cry.
---
Funeral. More specifically, Billie Joe's dad's funeral. It happened about two months after Billie and I met. We were ten and he was crying and holding my hand and hugging me.
We still go and visit the grave sometimes and he holds my hand, cries, and hugs me. It's hard to remember, but it's something in our relationship. Better or worse.
---
Grapefruit. Billie Joe is allergic to grapefruit. Neither one of us knew this when we were sixteen and he decided to eat one at my house for breakfast. That was an interesting trip to the hospital. Billie's red, getting hives, his face is swollen.
I couldn't kiss him for a week without imagining like that. So, of course I would laugh. No sex for a week. Kind of worth it to see Billie's allergic reaction to grapefruit, though. School pictures that day, too. At least the swelling went down by then.
---
Hank. For two painful months when we were eighteen, Billie Joe thought his dick deserved a name. So he named it Hank. Yes, Hank. We were stoned. So he named his dick Hank.
I still can't get over this. Why would anyone want to name their dick Hank? He changed it eventually. We named the dog Hank.
---
I love you. The first time he said it we were thirteen and had just kissed for the first time. I was shaking and he was trying not to. He grabbed my hand and put it on his heart, then did the same with his.
"Hearts mean love." he said. "So as long as my heart keeps beating, I'll love you."
And anytime we got in a fight or another person found out or someone said 'faggot' in the lunchline, I'd find Billie's pulse. And if I was alone, I'd find mine. Because as long as I could feel it, Billie and I still loved each other.
---
Jailbait. My birthday's in May. Billie's is in February. Three months older than me, six inches shorter. It didn't stop him from calling me 'Jailbait' everyday from his eighteenth birthday until mine.
It made for some pretty interesting sex.
---
Kaylee. November 16, 2001. 1:14 in the morning. Little Miss Green Eyes came into the world. I held her first while Billie stared. He was terrified and holding Beth's (our surrogate mother) hand while I cooed at our daughter.
When he first held her, we both thought he might drop her. He stared at her, as if he expected her to start talking or screaming or crying. She didn't. She stared back and made some sort of sound. Billie said she was trying to sing, but he's weird like that.
Kaylee. He picked the first name. I picked Dawn. I remember how he used to get up in the middle of the night to make sure she was still sleeping. He always fed her at night, always made sure her room was warm enough.
Overprotective to the core. I wonder what's going to happen when she starts dating.
---
Last Year. It's a song Billie Joe rewrites every year for our anniversary. He writes it and sings it to me in the morning. He's been doing it since we were twenty-four. Our first wedding anniversary.
It's always sappy, sweet, mushy. I tease him about it. Lines like "Last year was perfect/This year I promise to love you more than ever" or "I remember the high altitude in the plane/That bathroom will never be the same".
By the end of it we're both crying or laughing and we kiss and make love. It's perfect. It's cliche. But it's Billie.
---
MTV Video Music Awards. Remember in 2006? When Tre ran up to get the award and Billie and I came on from backstage. Apparently we 'smelled like sex' and for good reason. I don't remember who was supposed to be getting ready in that dressing room, but I feel a little bad for them.
But when you've got Billie Joe's hand on your cock and he's teasing you through pants that were too tight to begin with, it's kind of hard to say no. His eyes get this dark want in them, as if lust were a colour. If lust were a colour, it would be Billie Joe's eyes during sex. Dark, glassy green. Perfect.
And he was on the dressing table with his legs wrapped around my waist and we hurried to finish, hurried to end it. I don't know how many people heard us. He was moaning like a whore against my skin and then he kissed me.
I remember that more vividly than anything else that night.
---
Nail polish. Billie Joe likes to wear black nail polish sometimes. If I come home and he's painting his nails, I know exactly what's going to happen after we put Kaylee to bed.
He gets this ego booster or something from the fumes. If Billie Joe is wearing nail polish, he's going to tie me to the bed with those coloured nails. He's going to tease me to the point of breaking and leave me alone for an hour with a raging hard on, then come in to fuck himself on my cock.
I love it when he wears nail polish.
---
October. This is one hell of a month. We got in our first fight in October. Our first fight before we were dating and our first fight while we were dating. The first time our fight got physical was in October. I still have a scar on my hand from his fingernail.
Our first kiss was in October. I remember Billie Joe pressing his lips to mine and me pulling away. When he went to leave, I grabbed him and kissed him again. That was when he said he loved me for the first time, too.
We smoked our first joint in October. Halloween. We decided we were too old for trick-or-treating, so we decided to get high instead.
---
Panic attacks. The first time Billie Joe had a panic attack in front of me, I was twelve and he had just turned thirteen. I had no idea what the fuck was going on. We were watching a movie and he was trying to write something and all of a sudden he just went rigid. Then his breathing was fast. Fast enough that the oxygen he was pulling in didn't reach his lungs.
I thought he was going hysterical and that happened to me once, so I threw a glass of water at him. It worked a little. He responded, but his breathing was still funny, so I got down on my knees in front of him and held onto his chin, counting out "1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . ." It took a few seconds, but his breathing mimicked mine.
That's when he told me he had a panic disorder. He'd always had it, but it got worse after his dad died. He could usually take care of the attacks himself which is why it took nearly three years of knowing him to see him have one.
"I try to write about him." he explained. "But I can't." I took nearly twenty years after that for Billie to be able to write the song he'd been struggling to do.
---
Queer. He can say it now. He says it with pride. "Yeah, that's right. I'm a queer. Any other stupid questions?" But it didn't always used to be like that.
Billie never really cared what other people thought of him, except people like me and his family and Tre. But when people said things it made him question himself and that could hurt. Billie never officially 'came out' to anyone. He denied it to his family until after he moved out.
But we were an item at school. At a big school, no one really cares about fights and suspensions enough to inform your parents. At least, that was the case at ours. Billie had no problem making out with me in front of our lockers like the straight couples did. Had no problem holding my hand. Had no problem kissing me on the cheek or saying a quick 'I love you' when we passed each other in the hallway and had no time for another interaction.
And for the most part we avoided words. We got looks and pushes and the occasional fight. And Billie could take the word 'fag'. I've never understood the difference, but he could take the word 'fag'. He said something about a cigarette and how he smoked and it was nice of them to notice. He could handle 'fag'.
But some kid called him 'queer' at the beginning of sophomore year and he lost it. Broke a nose or something. No teachers saw it and was that fucker really going to report a 'queer' for beating the snot out of him. Yeah, bad joke.
Billie and I ditched school and hung out at a pizza joint until five. He smoked a pack of cigarettes and wouldn' talk about it for a couple of hours. Wouldn't really talk. We were holding hands, but he kept looking over his shoulder.
"I don't like that word." was the first real thing he said.
I finally told him I didn't understand. "I don't get it. You can take 'fag', but you can't take 'queer'?"
"Brian calls me 'queer'." Billie Joe said, naming his stepfather. 'The Dick' as we called him. "He doesn't even know and he calls me it."
"Your mom lets him?"
"She doesn't know." Billie said, removing his hand from mine long enough to take another cigarette and light it. "I hate that word. People call me 'fag' because they know I'm gay, but they don't understand. Brian calls me 'queer' because he hates me. I'd rather people be stupid."
He cried everyday for a year when he heard that word. Not in front of them, of course. He'd go to the restroom or wait until he got home or ditch school. He wouldn't cry in front of me either. But it's not hard to sneak into the restroom or follow a boyfriend.
He still says 'fag' more than he says 'queer', which is a rarity.
---
Right hook. Billie Joe can pack a hell of a punch for someone his height. I've seen quite a bit, but actually feeling it is something else. We were in our early twenties and we were all drunk and at a party after a concert. And Billie Joe wasn't just dancing with people (which he did constantly and I never minded). He was kissing them, too.
Pissed me off after a bit. I didn't really consider it cheating because he was drunk as hell and he moved from one person to the next quicly, but it pissed me off all the same.
So, I grabbed him and pulled him outside, slamming him against the wall.
"What the hell's your problem?" he demanded, rubbing the back of his head.
"What the fuck's yours? You're acting like a fucking whore, Billie Joe!"
He didn't like that. Didn't like it at all. Bruise wouldn't go away for a week. Billie Joe doesn't like being called a 'whore'.
---
Sappy. He's sappy as hell. Billie Joe is one of those romantics that can make you cringe. He's got a box in the closet of all the sappy stuff he's kept from our relationship.
The wrapping paper from the first gifts we ever exchanged as a couple. Every note I ever wrote him. (Which, they really weren't that good. I don't write good letters. They usually just said whatever I wanted to say, I love you, and I signed them. Billie's could take pages.)
The first song we ever wrote together, the original. Something we threw together when we were twelve. Sucked. We never showed it to anyone.
The heart keychain I gave him a rare moment of sappiness. I stole it at a department store after he said I love you.
Lipstick. A tube of red lipstick. Blowjob red. That's the actual name. Now I get to tell you a great story.
Billie Joe and I have never really been into drag. Except once. He didn't expect me to come home and find him like that. He was just 'experimenting' he said later. Wanted to see what a whole face of make-up looked like instead of just eyeliner. We were twenty-six or something.
There was no way he could have passed as a woman. His hair. He hadn't even changed out of his clothes.
He was red as hell and stammering when I opened the bedroom door and he saw my reflection in the mirror. It was kind of cute. "I-I just wanted to t-try it."
I put my arms around him and kissed his cheek. When he kissed mine, it left a lipstick print. And I was hard as a rock. Like I told you before, Billie Joe couldn't give a good blowjob to save his life. But that was the best one, probably because seeing his painted mouth trying to suck my cock was a sight I'd never actually seen before.
Remember, Billie Joe and I have been together since we were thirteen. Neither one of us has ever been with a chick.
That was the closest I ever came. No pun intended.
---
To:
Yeah, that's it. Christmas present tags. Billie Joe will never cease to amaze me. They change every year and none of them are ever the same. This is the one thing I save. I've never had a present from Billie that says 'To: Mike'. He can do better.
'To: The Man I Shower With'. 'To: The Man I Still Beat Off To.' 'To: The Only One I'll Ever Love'. 'To: A Heart That Still Beats'. 'To: The Man Who Stole My Boxers Yesterday'.
That's Billie Joe for you.
---
Umbrellas. Apparently they're evil. Billie refuses to use an umbrella. He told me once that evil spirits hide in the handle and that's why you can't open them indoors. But he thinks the spirits thrive in the outside world, so we don't own a single umbrella.
It's kind of fucked up.
---
Vagina. This is probably Billie's favorite word after every curse in the book. Don't ask me why. He wrote it on our door in permanent marker once. He wrote it on every locker in school. He considered naming his dick 'Vagina'. (I talked him out of it.)
Freak.
---
Worry Rock. Billie Joe wrote this song for me after we had our first big fight. We had been married three years and Kaylee wasn't born yet. I can't really remember how the fight started.
Billie had gone to London for a weekend to see someone and I went home. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw me kiss a guy on the lips before the guy left the house and got into his car. I know that had to look terrible.
He was a friend, an old friend who went to kiss my cheek and I turned my head wrong. But Billie lost it. We'd been on the rocks a bit lately, just from nerves and stress and too much booze. But he lost it. Screaming, crying, words neither of us meant to say.
He got in his car and drove off. I didn't see him for two days.
When he came back, he was drunk and crying and wanted to know everything. So I told him everything, which wasn't a lot. And I explained the kiss. I don't know if he believed me, but he did the next morning after his hangover wore off.
I hate that song.
---
X-Rays. Which isn't actually a copout. Billie Joe got a CAT scan once. Someone suggested it to see if medication might help with his panic attacks.
It scared the everliving shit out of him. He was afraid they'd find something else. He thought he'd have a brain tumor or he'd be schizophrenic. The doctor didn't want me in the room during the scan, but Billie Joe raised hell until he gave in.
No brain tumor. No schizophrenia. And it turned out medication couldn't help Billie's panic attacks.
Talk about a waste.
---
Your Own Disaster. It's a song. Not one of ours. Taking Back Sunday. In 2002, Billie Joe and I considered getting a divorce. Or rather, I considered it out loud and he refused to talk to me.
And he played this song nonstop, turned it up while Kaylee was in school. Screamed the words. Wrote them in the condensation on the bathroom mirror while I was in the shower.
Threw out the CD after we made up and I took divorce off the table.
I can't imagine my life without Billie Joe.
---
Zipper. That's what Billie's undoing right now, so I've got to go.
---------------------
Okay. I know it's not super smutty, but I really like this idea. Hopefully have Billie Joe's up in a day or two. I want your opinion. Should I do a narrator's list of things, a list of things Tre notices, or both. Or something else. Let me know your ideas.
Oh, and the lyrics of both of the real songs ("Worry Rock" and "Your Own Disaster" are below. 'Worry Rock' is property of Green Day and 'Your Own Disaster' is property of Taking Back Sunday.)
Worry Rock
Another sentimental argument and bitter love
Fucked without a kiss again and dragged it through the mud
Yelling at brick walls and punching windows made of stone
The worry rock has turned to dust and fallen on our pride
A knocked down dragged out fight
Fat lips and open wounds
Another wasted night
And no one will take the fall
Where do we go from here?
And what did you do with directions?
Promise me no dead end streets
And I'll guarantee we'll have the road
*
Your Own Disaster
And I wish you weren't worth the wait
cause there's something I'd like to say to you
And I don't think that you know what you've been missing
Cause I don't think that you know what you've been missing
And I dare you to forget
the marks you left across my neck
from those nights when we were both found at our best
Now I could make this obvious and you
you could deny me all in one breath
you could shrug me off your shoulders
And I don't think that you know what you've been missing
Cause I don't think that you know what you've been missing
And I don't think that you know,
I said I don't think you know,
I said I don't think that you know what you've been missing
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
Hey lush, have fun
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
Hey lush, have fun
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun (just forget me, it's that simple)
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
(just forget me, it's that simple)
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun
(just forget me, it's that simple)
Just forget me, it's that simple [11x]
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun, it's the weekend
(just forget me, it's that simple)
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Hey lush, have fun
(just forget me, it's that simple)
(oh I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
(no I don't think that you know what you've been missing)
Just forget me it's that simple