Two for Tragedy

Disclaimer. Don't own, don't sue. Song is property of Nightwish.

A/N: finally over the damn writer's block. I started this chapter about 2 million times before I could actually write something. At least my sister's volleyball tournaments are good for something during those long waits between games.

Anyway...here's the chapter.

Two for Tragedy
Part Five: "Do you want to talk about it?"

Now let us lie
Sad we lived sad we die
Even in your pride
I never blamed you

***Mikey's Point of View***

Frankie was standing at my locker, 'smoking' his pen after our last class. I didn't really expect any less. I undid my lock and grabbed my bag, slipping my English book in it. "Withdrawal?" I teased.

"Shut the fuck up." he said. "Can we please get out of her?"

I laughed and zipped my bag, shouldering it. "Yes, Mr. Marlboro."

Some guy cumped into me not-so-accidentally as I spun my combination lock. "Stop trying to feel me up, Queer Boy." he said loudly.

Frankie grabbed my arm and started pulling me down the hallways as I shouted, "Wishful thinking" at the brainless jock.

I turned to glare at my best friend as he made a small coughing noise. "What?!"

"Stop trying to start fights." he said as we walked toward his car.

"He ran into me."

"Gerard's going to kill you." Frankie said, unlocking his door and then reaching across the seats to unlock mine. "So cool it, all right?"

"Just have a smoke and quit worrying." I said viciously, staring determinedly out the window.

Sighing, Frankie lit two cigarettes and handed me on. He started the car and pulled out of his spot, then peeled out of the parking lot. "What exactly are you trying to prove?" he asked.

I reached over and tried to turn on the radio, but he grabbed my hand, nearly burning me with his cigarette. "Why are you so damn parental all of a sudden?" I wrenched my hand away from his. "I don't need protecting."

"If you weren't so damn stupid--"

"Bite me."

He sighed and took a drag off his cigarette, jabbing at the radio and cranking the volume. I thought I saw moisture forming in his eyes. After I threw the rest of my cigarette out the window and looked back at him, I saw it was clinging to his eyelashes.

"Frankie . . ." I said softly. The apology I was preparing to give died on my lips when he spoke.

"I'm sorry." he said. "I wasn't trying to be a dick." he took a ragged breath.

"It's okay." I said. "You're just trying to take care of me. I get that."

We were pulling into my driveway when another tear escaped his eye, this one running down his cheek. I reached up to wipe it away, but he seized my wrist. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you when it mattered." he whispered. Then he was full out crying, choking out apologies as I wrapped my arms around him. "I'm sorry, Mikey."

"Stop it." I said, my breath hitching as I felt his, warm against my neck. No no no. This was not happening.

"Mikey . . ." he murmured before I felt his teeth lightly graze my neck. I tensed slightly and he pulled away, eyes still red from crying. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

I put my hand behind his head, threading my fingers through his hair. "Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut the fuck up." I said before pressing my lips against his carnivorously. I bit his lip before I opened my mouth and he did the same, his tongue meeting mine. When we had to pull away for air, he stared at me, dazed. "You're good at that." he finally choked out.

"Closet queer." I teased.

He pushed at me. "Fuckhead."

"Well, quit screwing up everything with words then." I said. "And quit apologizing all the time. You're voice goes all high when you do and you sound like a chick."

He flipped me off and I laughed, opening my door and sliding out of the car, grabbing my bag on the way. "I'm going to assume you didn't bring your English assignment home with you." I said after I unlocked the front door and we stepped inside.

Normally he would have made some smart ass comment along the lines of 'Shakespeare can blow me'. Instead he just shook his head and softly said 'no'.

"Frankie, you want to talk about it?" I asked, lightly running my fingertips over his arm.

"English?"

"No, dumbass, the kiss."

He looked at me. "It was a kiss, right? What is there to say?"

"Well, it's obviously bothering you. You got weird all of a sudden." He glared at me and I stuck my tongue out. "I'll do my homework tonight. Let's just have a smoke, 'kay? People's Court is on."

I was trying to make it normal, but I think I was feeling just as lost as Frankie. He was confused for obvious reasons. He was straight, as far as I knew and I know him pretty damn well. But he just kissed his best guy friend and obviously enjoyed it otherwise he'd have pushed me away instead of kissing back. So he's probably questioning his sexuality right about now.

And I'm confused because at least it was just a kiss to Frankie. But I'm feeling hot and cold all over and I know what that means. I know what a kiss is and that wasn't just a kiss to me. It was one of those kisses. You only get so many in your life and that was one of them. A life-altering kiss. I never kissed any guy like that before. Usually it was just lust. Or always.

"Mikey?" Frankie asked from the couch. "You going to sit down or just stand there staring into space until Gerard gets home?" He was holding a cigarette out to me.

I took it and sat down next to him, a bit farther away than normal. He looked at me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I looked down before I gave a small nod. "Yeah. A little."

"Me, too."

I looked at him and gave a weak smile. "You first."

"Why me?"

"Because I'm taller and older and it's my house." I pointed out, my voice more steady now. I mean, even if I was falling for him, he was still Frankie. Nothing to be scared of.

"I liked it." he said, staring at the TV we hadn't bothered to turn on. "I liked it, so does that make me gay or bi or what?"

I put my hand on his shoulder, startling him a little. "I think it means you liked a kiss." I told him. "You're not gay or bi just because you kiss someone. There has to be emotion behind it."

"Doesn't every kiss have emotion behind it?"

"No."

He looked at me slowly, his eyes lighter and pained. "That one did."

I nodded. "Yeah, I know. It did for me, too."

"So . . . what happens now?"

I rolled my eyes and took a drag off my cigarette. "Remember what I told you about fucking up perfectly good moments with words?"

"But I need to know." he protested. "That's not unreasonable, Mikey. I just want to know what's going to happen."

"Well, what do you want to happen?" I asked him, taking another drag. He opened his mouth but before he could say anything, the phone rang. I swore and went to the kitchen to answer it. "Hello?"

"What's got you so fired up?" Gerard asked from the other end. "You made it home then?"

"What question do you want me to answer first?" I shot back.

"The one that I obviously don't know the answer to." Gerard said.

"You're a little slow, though."

"Michael--"

I hate it when he calls me by my full name. "Okay, okay." I looked at Frankie who shook his head, eyes wide. "Frankie's mom's just being a bitch."

"Watch your language." Gerard said from the other end. I could tell he was exhausted. "I'll be home in about thirty minutes, okay? Start something for supper. Don't burn the house down. Have Frankie call his mom and think of a better lie next time."

I rolled my eyes. "Bye, Gerard."

"Bye, Michael."

"Asshole." I said after I hung up the phone. "He wants you to call your mom." I told Frankie. "And he wants me to start something for supper. Ask your mom if you can stay over."

"Who said I wanted to?" Frankie asked, getting up and grabbing the phone from me, punching in his number. "Hi, Mom." he said as I went to the refrigerator. "No, I'm fine . . . Mikey's . . . he'll be home soon . . . I promise we won't destroy Gerard's house, Mom . . . no homework . . . honest. We had a subsitute in Home Ec, so it was a study hall and Mikey helped me." Frankie covered up the reciever. "She wants to talk to you."

I shut the refrigerator door and walked over to the phone, taking it from Frankie. "Hi, Mrs. Iero."

"Did you really have a substitute in Home Ec, Mikey?"

"Yes. Her name was Ms. Vanderson and she didn't know what the heck she was doing, so she let us have a free period. Frankie only had math to do, so I helped him with it."

"What was the math homework, then?"

"Quadratic equations."

"Put Frankie back on, dear."

Frankie made a face and took the phone from me, another cigarette in his mouth. "See, Mom . . . no, I'm not talking back . . . can I crash here tonight . . . I'm sure it's cool . . . okay, I'll have him call you . . . yeah, I'll come by and get clothes . . . we're starting supper, Mom . . . we won't burn down Gerard's house, I promise . . . bye . . . bye . . . Mom . . . bye."

Frankie rolled his eyes as he hung up the phone. "She's so annoying."

I laughed and pulled open the refrigerator. "So, what do you want to eat?"

"If you're cooking it, I ain't eating a damn bite." he said, leaning against the table and flicking his ash into a glass of orange juice left over from the breakfast Gerard made me eat earlier.

"Nice to know my best friend has so much faith in me." I said as I opened the freezer. Pizza. I shrugged. It would do. I set it on the counter and opened a cupboard, looking for a cookie sheet.

Frankie threw his cigarette butt in the trash before nudging my leg with his foot.

"What?" I said, looking extremely irritated as I abandoned my search prematurely to look at him.

He knelt on the floor and pressed his lips to mine softly, pulling back after a few seconds and smiling.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded. His confusion from earlier seem to have disappeared and I didn't like it.

"A kiss." he said, standing up and pulling me with him.

"You can't just go around kissing people." I said angrily, crossing my arms. "Not without them knowing your intentions."

"Well, why don't you tell me what you think my intentions are and I'll tell you if you're right." he said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You tell me first." I demanded.

Frankie glared at me. "Fine. I liked that first kiss, the one in the car. I liked it a lot. And I liked that I was kissing you because I trust you. But if you're going to be such a jackass about it, I'll just leave." He made to head for the door, but I grabbed his arm.

"Frankie--"

"What?" he all but shouted.

"I liked it, too." I said. "And I liked that it was you."

He nodded slowly and walked over to the oven. "350, right?"

"Yeah." I said, turning to look at him.

I heard the key in the lock and then Gerard walked in, kicking off his shoes and shutting the door again. "How was school?" he asked.

"School was fine." I said. "Bit boring. So me and Frankie called a few people when we got home, lit a bonfire in your living room and had a huge orgy."

Gerard glared at me. "Knock it off, Mikey. I'm not in the mood." He left the room, clearly pissed.

"What was that about?" Frankie asked me softly.

I shook my head. "Don't know. Watch the pizzas, will you? I'm going to find out." I walked down the hallway and paused in front of Gerard's room, knocking. "Gee?"

"Not now, Mikey."

"Gee, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to piss you off. What's wrong?"

He opened the door, clearly not any less angry than he was before my apology. "I saw Matt today." he said. "And he recognized me and proceeded to damn you in the parking lot of the 7-11."

I bit the inside of my cheek. "I would've punched him." I said after a brief pause.

"Yeah, well, if I did that Child Services wouldn't be too happy and you'd be back in foster care while I'd been in prison for assult of a minor." he said, loudly and nearly hysterically. "So would you leave, Mikey?"

"Gee, I--"

"Not now."

"But--"

"God dammit, Mikey! I said not right now."

I glared back at him. "Fine. But before you go getting all pissy because you saw Matt, just remember who he raped."

I stormed into the kitchen and grabbed Frankie by the arm. "Let's go."

He was halfway to his car before he could formulate a sentence. "Where?"

"I don't give a shit. Let's just get the fuck away from here."

"Mikey, this might not be the best--"

"Just drive the damn car, Frankie, okay?"

The last thing I saw in my side mirror was Gerard climbing into his own car. He hadn't even bothered to put his shoes back on.

---

Well, it was all dramatic but romantic at the beginning and this isn't a dramatic romantic story although I guess it may have to be now, huh? So I had to angst it up a little.

Any thoughts on the Frankie/Mikey thing?

I personally love Mikey being all bitchy and defiant because he doesn't want to discuss the rape.

Any comments are appreciated. I'm a review whore, people.