gala_apples

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Title: Boundaries of a Scene Boy
Pairing: gen, Gabe, background Mikey/everyone
Rating: G
Wordcount: 1279
Summary: Mikey is weird. It fucks with Gabe's head.
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: Gabe fic was the best thing I could think of for you. Hope you like it.

The thing that Victoria doesn't seem to get is that Gabe doesn't actually wanna have awesome sex with the club bicycle.

It's not that he denies that it would be a good time. He's sure it would be. As far as bicycles go, Mikey Way is probably a Schwinn. Or, like, whatever kind of bike Lance Armstrong has an endorsement deal with. Gabe doesn't actually know anything about bicycles, so he's sort of stretching the metaphor. But the point is that Mikey is probably the best lay here.

When you spend almost every night out, word of mouth becomes everything. Regulars know their shit, or at least have enough confidence in what they’re saying that others follow them. Customs harden into laws. And if you don’t like it, you get out of the scene, because there are a hundred guys, girls, bois, and twinks willing to wear the eyeliner.

Your drunk friend is hitting on a six and a nine? You make sure they go home with the nine. That way they don't have regrets in the morning, just lipstick stains and possibly a stolen wallet.

Your drunk friend wants the DJ to play a specific song? Get them to chat up Mccoy's friends instead of trying to get into the booth to pay him off. Mccoy doesn't give a shit how much money you have, but likes to please his friends by playing what they wants.

Your drunk friend wants a easy blowjob? Point out Mikey Way and have them cross their fingers for maybe five seconds.

Gabe’s happy with his life. For the most part. No one is ever completely happy, and even if they were, no one likes a grinning scene kid, if it’s obvious they’re not drunk or on something. But his job is decent, his place is nice, he’s not estranged from the family but doesn’t have them up in his space for Sunday dinner either. The only thing he could maybe want that he doesn’t have is a relationship.

Gabe's not looking for a long term relationship. That's what his friends are for. When you want someone to care about you and be around forever, you get yourself a best friend and you make sure you don't cross any fucking lines. Lines are there for a fucking reason.

He and Victoria have long term. They can sleep in the same bed and pass each other in the morning on the way to Victoria's shitty shower. Sure Gabe might get hard seeing her still a bit damp and changing into a dress, but he's not gonna do anything about it. His tongue's never been in her mouth, on her skin, or inside her, and it won't be.

Short term relationship would probably be the best term for what he wants. He wants someone that wants to eat dinners and watch movies and do drugs and have sex with him at least a few nights a week. A boyfriend or girlfriend that understands if they're on a date and Vic or Nate texts he's gonna answer, that if they have sex on the couch Pete or Ryland might walk in because about twenty people have keys to his place. Nothing super serious, and something that involves people knowing the boundaries.

That's the primary problem with Mikey Way. He doesn't understand boundaries. He gives out blowjobs like they're balloons for tiny children - actually, that metaphor sounds really fucking creepy. Scratch that. He gives out blowjobs like they're handshakes, and he sure as fuck doesn't want to date anyone. But he doesn't seem to understand the concept of a one night stand either. He puts people in his phone contacts after both parties have gotten off. And then he actually calls.

He’s even witnessed this strange ass phenomenon first hand. Last week Gabe went over to Alex's apartment, and Mikey Way was there playing Halo. Alex wasn't even home. Mikey had asked if he wanted cereal with chocolate milk because there was no white left. He’d tossed a throw pillow on the floor like he was clearing a spot for Gabe to sit. Alex and Mikey had traded handjobs during the night before Christmas Eve’s Hos Hos Hos club event. It's currently fucking February. He’d taken off, weirded out by Mikey acting like everything was normal. He’d ended up just sitting in the food court for the three hours until his shift started.

It's not a friends with benefits thing. Gabe doesn't do that, but he could understand it. His roommate in college had that. It hadn’t even blown up spectacularly for Terry, not that he’d seen, though he’s still sure Terry’s the exception to the rule. But he knows it’s not. Gabe's asked around -word of mouth, after all- and with the polls in, the same answer comes from everyone. Mikey only sleeps with people once. He’s Jersey’s Brian Kinney. Except he’s not rich, older, or an asshole. So not like him at all, really.

Gabe thinks about it. He thinks about a lot of stuff. It’s why he and some of his best friends are friends, because they’re the ones up at the end of the party, sobering but unwilling to fall asleep to pass the time through the worst of the headache. They all get the need to toy with the things that fuck with their heads, think and think and think like the world is a massive puzzle, impossible to finish in one lifetime but ultimately solvable. A few laugh that his current piece is Mikey Way. Underneath the laughter they get it though. Pete, William, Travis; they all have their persons too.

He can’t figure Mikey out, but he can come up with a metaphor for him. He's like some kind of prostitute that gets paid in friendship. The metaphor almost makes it better. Bareable.

Victoria thinks he should fuck him. Victoria thinks he should fuck everyone, because when she gets drunk she gets horny, and feels bad for people that aren't getting off. Gabe has tried to tell her he doesn't want a weird new best friend with benefits except only once -he can't even describe it coherently in his thoughts, how the fuck is he supposed to deal with it in his life- and she always nods like she's listening. Then they go out the next night and she has her screwdrivers and points him out, leaning against the wall, or buying another cooler, or dancing in a crowd that's as tightly packed as a moshpit, but working themselves into a different kind of frenzy. Like he can't fucking see him.

No, he doesn't want to have sex with him. Nothing good can come from having great sex with a hot guy that's friendly with everyone. Gabe's pretty sure if his fifteen year old self heard him say that, he'd kick himself in the face. It’s true though. Gabe knows everything about himself, just like all scene kids do. He knows that as much as he can’t stop thinking about him now, it will get much worse if they fuck.

So Gabe watches as Mikey slowly befriends everyone he knows, and fortifies his lines so even skinny beautiful men that pop vibrantly coloured pills and use video game apps as much as the texting feature on their phone can’t cross. No one has the right to drive him insane. No one except for himself.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

sleepherealone.livejournal.com

Gabe fic is a great way to go! You know, it's interesting because I haven't been reading bandom fic at ALL lately since I'm kind of in a weird place mentally with most parts of bandom so I went into this not knowing how I'd feel about it, but I enjoyed it SO much. There's a certain narrative for Gabe that I love in fic, and you nailed that so well. I had a pretty good day, and this just became the topper on it. Thank you so much! ♥