gala_apples (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gala_apples) wrote2011-10-17 05:26 am
gala_apples) wrote2011-10-17 05:26 am
Entry tags:
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Title: The Best Intentions
Pairing: Mikey/Frankie (both always a girl)
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1813
Summary: Gerard wants to be the best lesbian sister supporting brother he can be. Which makes it really weird when Mikey brings home a guy.
Prompt used: accidents for kink_bingo
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Author's Notes: I was just minding my own business, spying on other people's picspams, and then there was this and I immediately needed a dyke Frank in my life. I whined on Twitter, which somehow turned into ME writing it. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY, KOPPERBLAZE.
If Gerard was gay, he’d fuckin’ explode out of the closet. He’d be like a human cannonball at a circus with the speed and force he’d use to come out. And all the clowns would be luscious drag queens, and the acrobats would be into bondage and kink, and the trained bears would be manly bears. It would be a fabulous circus; in the original sense of the word, not the way that any time you hear it these days you think Emmett Honeycutt style flamers. Though rock on flamers, for creating their own language base. If frat boys can have wazzup, flamers can have fabulous. It’s only fair.
But Gerard’s not coming out of the closet, because he’s not gay. It’s not like he doesn’t want to be. He’s fuckin’ tried. Being straight makes him the minority in his group of friends, and no one likes that feeling. It just doesn’t work for him. It’s not a major squick, giving a guy a handjob is hardly eyesocket fucking. In the end though, your sexuality has to be about what excites you, and he just likes breasts, not ballsacks.
He still maintains that Mikey didn’t come out of the closet either. There should have been an announcement, making a scene in the middle of a hang out to say she was a lesbian and proud, and anyone who didn’t like it could leave. Or a tearful family meeting, informing them all she’d never get married, until bullshit laws got changed. Or changing of Facebook information, to be commented on and Liked by third grade friends. Shit, she could have brought a sexy and delightful woman home and their screams could have shaken the rafters. All of those would have been perfect opportunities for Gerard and everyone else to inform her they loved her, and whatever she liked was whatever she liked.
Instead she just walked in while Gerard was watching porn. She looked at his screen for a second, then told him that the girl must have been getting paid a lot to risk vaginal tears with those fucking awful fake nails, and no real dyke would put up with it. Gerard had grabbed the nearest object to put over his cock, and asked irritably how she knew. She’d smirked and splayed her fingers before wiggling them at him. Fingers with short, even fingernails.
It had been pretty impossible to be the supportive brother at that point. He couldn’t hand out hugs and affirmations when he would have had to shout over posers moaning, and standing up to grab her would have resulted in a smear of precome on her leg. So he’d managed some feeble thumbs up, and she’d grabbed the Batman belt buckle she’d come in for and left. Gerard had to change the movie. He’d felt suddenly awkward about jerking off to straight girls pretending for men’s enjoyment.
Essentially, Gerard had gotten gypped out of his awesome we love you just the way you are moment. Only Ray pointing out a simple truth had stopped his pot based ramble on how he just wanted to be the best LGBT supporter he could be, and the best brother he could be. Bob had offered a gratitude blowjob, but Ray hadn’t gone for it. No one in their group understood Ray’s weird antagonistic relationship with Otter, but it wasn’t their place to break them up (only maybe revel in unsaid ‘I told you so’s’ when they finally do). Gerard hadn’t thought his silence was worth a blowjob, but Bob’s the kind that gives them out like pieces of gum, so whatever.
The truth is this: Mikey will one day get a girlfriend. And it’ll be Gerard’s second chance. That moment, when Mikey brings a woman into the house to hang out for twenty minutes while she gets ready before going on a date -Mikey always has run late, and always will- that’ll be Gerard’s moment to shine. He’ll say nice to meet you, and he won’t imagine what she’s like in bed, and he won’t even give her a Willow-esque ‘don’t hurt my sister’ speech, because he is a man that knows women can take care of themselves.
That’s why he’s really disappointed when the next time Mikey brings someone home, it’s a guy. Gerard gets bisexuality. Bisexuality is great, just as valid a sexuality as heterosexual or lesbian or gay or pansexual or ace. It’s just, he can’t say I support your right to have awesome sex with another woman when there’s a guy sitting beside Mikey on the couch, her leggings getting speckled with orange as he rests his hand there between plunges into the bag of Cheetos.
He watches, on the outskirts, as Frankie comes over more and more often. From a distance it could easily be said Mikey doesn’t belong with him. First impression is total dudebro. He’s always in a hoodie and baggy jeans. Not normal band hoodies, like Gerard’s entire closet is comprised of, but bright coloured ones with geometric patterns. By itself they might not be that bad, but they’re always paired with a hat. Baseball caps with completely flat brims. Some have sticker logos.
Closer in though, it works. They both like horror movies, Frankie with enough insightful commentary that sometimes Gerard has to interrupt to talk to him about it. Mikey’s always liked WWE, and the entire family likes football, but Frankie seems to be getting her into basketball. Frankie might look like a dudebro, but he never calls her bitch, or broad, or woman in the way that sounds like a slur or a possession. They make each other laugh. That factor entirely trumps the horrible wardrobe.
The first night Frankie stays over, Gerard doesn’t really know what to say. He wants to pull Mikey aside and ask if she’s on birth control, or if she has condoms. The reality of that is that she’d probably just smirk and not answer. After worrying about it for a few hours, Gerard drives to the nearest twenty four hour pharmacy and grabs a package. He leaves them in Mikey’s room, and decides not to think about it further. Mikey hates owing people, there will be a new package on his art desk within three days.
They retire first, of course. Gerard mentally adds ‘sisters with active sex lives’ to his list of reasons why he needs to move out, alongside ‘can’t smoke pot’ and ‘Dad’s starting to introduce tofu’. Then he knocks the volume on the tv up several notches. There’s nothing they’re doing that he needs to hear.
When he eventually goes to bed he turns on the CD player perched on a permanently stuck open dresser drawer. Freddie Mercury easily drowns out anything they might still be doing. He doesn’t need porn to tell him what he’s learned from experience; that women have several more rounds a night in them than men do. If Mikey was a brother and he was having sex with Frankie they’d be done and asleep by now. But Frankie -if he’s a good boyfriend- is probably still helping his sister out. It’s considerate, but nothing he wants details on.
In the morning, the CD is skipping. The repeated noise is aggravating enough to make Gerard get out of the blankets to turn it off when he’d normally let himself follow the cycle of wake up and drift back off two or three times before getting out of bed. He contemplates crawling back in, but his stomach is growling like a bastard. He can nap after he makes some eggs.
He exits his bedroom at approximately the same instant that Frankie opens the bathroom door, cloud of steam revealing a shower just took place. She just had a shower. She, because Frankie has both bits of equipment that make up a girl, and holy fuck, how did that happen?
As stunned as Gerard is to see Frankie, Frankie is infuriated to see him. Her face contorts into nothing less than a snarl and her hands land squarely on her hips. Honestly, Gerard’s expecting to get spit at any moment now.
“Hey. Real douche move of you, putting condoms on her pillow. Really fucking passive aggressive. Just tell her there’s something wrong with eating cunt, if that’s what you think. She was pretty hurt.”
Gerard hates himself for it, but he can’t stop staring at her boobs.
“You know we ended up having spiteful, fuck the homophobes sex? We both came and everything, but I was looking forward to a long session with breaks for making out. So thanks for fucking that up. Tool.”
Gerard really hates himself, but he can’t say anything until she turns her back to him and starts walking down the hall. “I thought you were a guy!” he shouts desperately. “I just wanted her to be safe!”
Frankie turns, and Gerard bets there would be a suspicious look on her face, if he could look away from her breasts. “Really?”
“Look, I’m sorry, I’m really trying to respect you, fuck, I mean, I’m trying to be respectful. But can you grab a towel, or a shirt or something? Please?”
“So both the Ways like tits. That’s good to know.” Frankie doesn’t move from her spot in the hallway, but she does cross her arms. The tattoos are nearly as entrancing, but it’s enough of a concession that Gerard can refocus. “I’ll ask again. You thought I was a guy? Really?”
“Yeah! I mean, you gotta know you pull off butch really well, right?” He desperately hopes that’s not a term she finds offensive. Gerard’s got a lot more experience with gay men than lesbians. Twink and bear and chubby chaser are okay on the male side, hopefully he’s not wrong about butch and femme.
Thankfully, Frankie doesn’t look like she’s going to punch him for the phrase. “So the condom thing-”
“Was a complete accident. Next time I’ll provide dental dams.” Well, he’ll have to figure out where to get them first. He’s only heard of their existence, never actually seen one. But he’ll do it, for Mikey.
“Don’t bother. We’re monogamous as shit. But I’m really glad you’re not an asshole. Mikey loves the fuck out of you.” And before Gerard can brace himself, Frankie is darting forward and hugging him. There are nipples against his chest. He hugs back gingerly, trying not to move. The last thing he needs is for friction to make them perky.
When Frank lets go and goes back to Mikey’s room, Gerard forgets all about going upstairs for breakfast. Instead he retreats to his bedroom and pulls out his cell to call Ray. He’s going to need to vent for a minute or two about completely inappropriate desire. Ray liked their math teacher in high school, he’ll understand.
Pairing: Mikey/Frankie (both always a girl)
Rating: R
Wordcount: 1813
Summary: Gerard wants to be the best lesbian sister supporting brother he can be. Which makes it really weird when Mikey brings home a guy.
Prompt used: accidents for kink_bingo
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Author's Notes: I was just minding my own business, spying on other people's picspams, and then there was this and I immediately needed a dyke Frank in my life. I whined on Twitter, which somehow turned into ME writing it. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY, KOPPERBLAZE.
If Gerard was gay, he’d fuckin’ explode out of the closet. He’d be like a human cannonball at a circus with the speed and force he’d use to come out. And all the clowns would be luscious drag queens, and the acrobats would be into bondage and kink, and the trained bears would be manly bears. It would be a fabulous circus; in the original sense of the word, not the way that any time you hear it these days you think Emmett Honeycutt style flamers. Though rock on flamers, for creating their own language base. If frat boys can have wazzup, flamers can have fabulous. It’s only fair.
But Gerard’s not coming out of the closet, because he’s not gay. It’s not like he doesn’t want to be. He’s fuckin’ tried. Being straight makes him the minority in his group of friends, and no one likes that feeling. It just doesn’t work for him. It’s not a major squick, giving a guy a handjob is hardly eyesocket fucking. In the end though, your sexuality has to be about what excites you, and he just likes breasts, not ballsacks.
He still maintains that Mikey didn’t come out of the closet either. There should have been an announcement, making a scene in the middle of a hang out to say she was a lesbian and proud, and anyone who didn’t like it could leave. Or a tearful family meeting, informing them all she’d never get married, until bullshit laws got changed. Or changing of Facebook information, to be commented on and Liked by third grade friends. Shit, she could have brought a sexy and delightful woman home and their screams could have shaken the rafters. All of those would have been perfect opportunities for Gerard and everyone else to inform her they loved her, and whatever she liked was whatever she liked.
Instead she just walked in while Gerard was watching porn. She looked at his screen for a second, then told him that the girl must have been getting paid a lot to risk vaginal tears with those fucking awful fake nails, and no real dyke would put up with it. Gerard had grabbed the nearest object to put over his cock, and asked irritably how she knew. She’d smirked and splayed her fingers before wiggling them at him. Fingers with short, even fingernails.
It had been pretty impossible to be the supportive brother at that point. He couldn’t hand out hugs and affirmations when he would have had to shout over posers moaning, and standing up to grab her would have resulted in a smear of precome on her leg. So he’d managed some feeble thumbs up, and she’d grabbed the Batman belt buckle she’d come in for and left. Gerard had to change the movie. He’d felt suddenly awkward about jerking off to straight girls pretending for men’s enjoyment.
Essentially, Gerard had gotten gypped out of his awesome we love you just the way you are moment. Only Ray pointing out a simple truth had stopped his pot based ramble on how he just wanted to be the best LGBT supporter he could be, and the best brother he could be. Bob had offered a gratitude blowjob, but Ray hadn’t gone for it. No one in their group understood Ray’s weird antagonistic relationship with Otter, but it wasn’t their place to break them up (only maybe revel in unsaid ‘I told you so’s’ when they finally do). Gerard hadn’t thought his silence was worth a blowjob, but Bob’s the kind that gives them out like pieces of gum, so whatever.
The truth is this: Mikey will one day get a girlfriend. And it’ll be Gerard’s second chance. That moment, when Mikey brings a woman into the house to hang out for twenty minutes while she gets ready before going on a date -Mikey always has run late, and always will- that’ll be Gerard’s moment to shine. He’ll say nice to meet you, and he won’t imagine what she’s like in bed, and he won’t even give her a Willow-esque ‘don’t hurt my sister’ speech, because he is a man that knows women can take care of themselves.
That’s why he’s really disappointed when the next time Mikey brings someone home, it’s a guy. Gerard gets bisexuality. Bisexuality is great, just as valid a sexuality as heterosexual or lesbian or gay or pansexual or ace. It’s just, he can’t say I support your right to have awesome sex with another woman when there’s a guy sitting beside Mikey on the couch, her leggings getting speckled with orange as he rests his hand there between plunges into the bag of Cheetos.
He watches, on the outskirts, as Frankie comes over more and more often. From a distance it could easily be said Mikey doesn’t belong with him. First impression is total dudebro. He’s always in a hoodie and baggy jeans. Not normal band hoodies, like Gerard’s entire closet is comprised of, but bright coloured ones with geometric patterns. By itself they might not be that bad, but they’re always paired with a hat. Baseball caps with completely flat brims. Some have sticker logos.
Closer in though, it works. They both like horror movies, Frankie with enough insightful commentary that sometimes Gerard has to interrupt to talk to him about it. Mikey’s always liked WWE, and the entire family likes football, but Frankie seems to be getting her into basketball. Frankie might look like a dudebro, but he never calls her bitch, or broad, or woman in the way that sounds like a slur or a possession. They make each other laugh. That factor entirely trumps the horrible wardrobe.
The first night Frankie stays over, Gerard doesn’t really know what to say. He wants to pull Mikey aside and ask if she’s on birth control, or if she has condoms. The reality of that is that she’d probably just smirk and not answer. After worrying about it for a few hours, Gerard drives to the nearest twenty four hour pharmacy and grabs a package. He leaves them in Mikey’s room, and decides not to think about it further. Mikey hates owing people, there will be a new package on his art desk within three days.
They retire first, of course. Gerard mentally adds ‘sisters with active sex lives’ to his list of reasons why he needs to move out, alongside ‘can’t smoke pot’ and ‘Dad’s starting to introduce tofu’. Then he knocks the volume on the tv up several notches. There’s nothing they’re doing that he needs to hear.
When he eventually goes to bed he turns on the CD player perched on a permanently stuck open dresser drawer. Freddie Mercury easily drowns out anything they might still be doing. He doesn’t need porn to tell him what he’s learned from experience; that women have several more rounds a night in them than men do. If Mikey was a brother and he was having sex with Frankie they’d be done and asleep by now. But Frankie -if he’s a good boyfriend- is probably still helping his sister out. It’s considerate, but nothing he wants details on.
In the morning, the CD is skipping. The repeated noise is aggravating enough to make Gerard get out of the blankets to turn it off when he’d normally let himself follow the cycle of wake up and drift back off two or three times before getting out of bed. He contemplates crawling back in, but his stomach is growling like a bastard. He can nap after he makes some eggs.
He exits his bedroom at approximately the same instant that Frankie opens the bathroom door, cloud of steam revealing a shower just took place. She just had a shower. She, because Frankie has both bits of equipment that make up a girl, and holy fuck, how did that happen?
As stunned as Gerard is to see Frankie, Frankie is infuriated to see him. Her face contorts into nothing less than a snarl and her hands land squarely on her hips. Honestly, Gerard’s expecting to get spit at any moment now.
“Hey. Real douche move of you, putting condoms on her pillow. Really fucking passive aggressive. Just tell her there’s something wrong with eating cunt, if that’s what you think. She was pretty hurt.”
Gerard hates himself for it, but he can’t stop staring at her boobs.
“You know we ended up having spiteful, fuck the homophobes sex? We both came and everything, but I was looking forward to a long session with breaks for making out. So thanks for fucking that up. Tool.”
Gerard really hates himself, but he can’t say anything until she turns her back to him and starts walking down the hall. “I thought you were a guy!” he shouts desperately. “I just wanted her to be safe!”
Frankie turns, and Gerard bets there would be a suspicious look on her face, if he could look away from her breasts. “Really?”
“Look, I’m sorry, I’m really trying to respect you, fuck, I mean, I’m trying to be respectful. But can you grab a towel, or a shirt or something? Please?”
“So both the Ways like tits. That’s good to know.” Frankie doesn’t move from her spot in the hallway, but she does cross her arms. The tattoos are nearly as entrancing, but it’s enough of a concession that Gerard can refocus. “I’ll ask again. You thought I was a guy? Really?”
“Yeah! I mean, you gotta know you pull off butch really well, right?” He desperately hopes that’s not a term she finds offensive. Gerard’s got a lot more experience with gay men than lesbians. Twink and bear and chubby chaser are okay on the male side, hopefully he’s not wrong about butch and femme.
Thankfully, Frankie doesn’t look like she’s going to punch him for the phrase. “So the condom thing-”
“Was a complete accident. Next time I’ll provide dental dams.” Well, he’ll have to figure out where to get them first. He’s only heard of their existence, never actually seen one. But he’ll do it, for Mikey.
“Don’t bother. We’re monogamous as shit. But I’m really glad you’re not an asshole. Mikey loves the fuck out of you.” And before Gerard can brace himself, Frankie is darting forward and hugging him. There are nipples against his chest. He hugs back gingerly, trying not to move. The last thing he needs is for friction to make them perky.
When Frank lets go and goes back to Mikey’s room, Gerard forgets all about going upstairs for breakfast. Instead he retreats to his bedroom and pulls out his cell to call Ray. He’s going to need to vent for a minute or two about completely inappropriate desire. Ray liked their math teacher in high school, he’ll understand.
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