turps | A Bandom Kissing Meme.

Entry tags:

bandom kiss meme

A Bandom Kissing Meme.

Yesterday was national kissing day, and I was talking about how it would have been a good excuse for a kiss meme, and how it seemed those kind of themed memes seemed to have died out a little.

Various people suggested I host one myself, and I figured why not? The worst that could happen is no one plays or comments and I end up with an empty post. Therefore....

Now, rules, and if I've missed something you think should be there or have been unclear just let me know.

All previous and current bandom bands and members are welcome.
All pairings are welcome. Threesomes, moresomes, bring them on. Gen is fine too, and if you want to do solo kisses somehow, I'd love to see how.
Any kinds of kisses go, on the hand, on the forehead, making out for hours, brotherly kisses, friendly kisses, the kind in the middle of hot, sweaty sex.

Leave a prompt with the kind of kiss you'd like to see. Either general ( I love kisses in the rain ) or specific ( I'd love to see Frank kiss Gabe and have to stand on a box to do so ) but remember don't get too detailed, try for a middle balance.
You can leave as many prompts as you want, but only one prompt per comment.
If you want to answer your own prompt, go for it. The more kisses the better.
Prompts can be filled more than once with either fic or art.
You can write/draw as little or as much as you like.
If you do write/draw please put a pairing and title in the subject line, that way I can link from the main post.
Please warn if needed.

Other than that, go for it. Prompt kisses, write kisses, draw kisses. *mwah*

(1)Gerard/Mikey -- Spot by

akamine_chan
(2)Mikey/Ryan -- Cooking Class Verse by

eledhwenlin
(3)Frank/Gerard -- First sober kiss by

greedy_dancer
(4)Bob/Mikey -- Last Kiss by

akamine_chan
(5)Dr Death Defying/Show Pony -- lazy morning by

kopperblaze
(6)Frank/Mikey -- Reward by

chalcopyrite
(7)Bob/Mikey -- A Little Patience by

radioaches
(8)It's Never Enough -- Brendon/Spencer by

knight_tracer
(9)Favorite Little Brother -- Mikey&Gerard

akamine_chan
(10)Sub!Verse Late Nights -- Mikey/Ray by

bebunny
(11)Korse/Fun Ghould -- Something gritty by

tuesdaysgone
(12)High school sweethearts -- Brendon/Spencer by

turps33
(13)No Big Deal Frank/Mikey by

dear_monday
(14)With Your Mask On If You Have To Frank/Gerard by

chalcopyrite
(15)Lipstick Kisses -- Frank/Gerard by

lovebashed
(16)Practice Makes Perfect Gerard/Mikey by

ladyfoxxx
(17)Killjoys from the POV of the kid by

kopperblaze
(18)Killjoys Korse/Party Poison, first kiss by

bebunny
(19)Painted Desert Serenade Party Poison/Jet Star by by

chalcopyrite
(20)Playing Like I Know That Game -- Gerard/Patrick by

creepylicious
(21)Mikey/Pete -- Not wanting to let go by

ivesia19
(22)Dallon/Brendon -- dare by

ivesia19
(23)Hello -- Gerard/Patrick by

madambeetroot
(24)Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con by

fleurdeliser and

tuesdaysgone
(25)Bob/Mikey killjoys double dog dare by

turps33
(26)Brendon/Frank -- stolen kisses during something actiony by

delphinapterus
(27)Brendon/Ryan -- post split by

ivesia19
(28)Gerard solo -- Sweet by

jedusaur
(29)Frank/Mikey -- kissing in cold weather ( art fill ) by

omens
(30)Ryan/Jon -- saying goodbye is hard to do by

sailorstkwrning
(31)Keep Me Breathing -- Brendon/Gerard by

creepylicious
(32)Gerard -- In the Mirror by

undeny
(33)Faded -- Gerard&Mikey by

romanticalgirl
(34)Like I'm Feeling You Gabe/William by

romanticalgirl
(35)Summer For the Rest Of Us -- Gerard/Patrick by

romanticalgirl
(36)A Better Offer -- Gerard/Frank/Gabe by

romanticalgirl
(37)Hot For Teacher -- Gerard/Mikey by

romanticalgirl
(38)Barter System -- Ray/Mikey by

romanticalgirl
(39)The One Where Mikey Doesn't Kiss and Frank's Been Watching a Long Time -- Mikey/Frank by

greenskribbles
(40)Approximate Sunlight -- Frank/Gerard by

piratesunk
(41)Soundtrack of the Summer Frank/Gerard by

piratesunk
(42)Remaking What Otherwise We Should Have Thrown Away -- Frank/Gerard by

fabu
(43)Gabe/Patrick and Gabe/Pete -- He kissed a boy just to start shit.

jedusaur
(44)This Is a Gift, It Comes With a Price -- Dr D/Show Pony by

creepylicious
(45)Snake Vision -- Kobra Kid/Gabe by

jedusaur
(46)All Ways -- Mikey/Franks by

jedusaur
(47)A Blustery Night -- Brendon/Travie by

dr_jasley
(48)Hazy Lazy Day -- Ray/Mikey by

xoxxblitz7
(49)Welcome Home -- Gerard/Lindsey by

turps33
(50)Love Droplets -- Gerard/Frank by

xoxxblitz7
(51)Up For Air -- Patrick/Pete by

jedusaur and

verbyna
(52)See You -- Mikey/Brendon by

bootson
(53)Staged -- Brendon/Spencer by

bootson
(54)(How bad I want this) scandal; MCR: Frank/Mikey (+Gerard) by

creepylicious
(55)Mikey/Ryan -- in a cage by

slashxmistress
(56)Share Some Skin -- Gerard/Mikey by

creepylicious
(57)Mikey/Gabe -- Projekt Gayhem 1/3 by

jedusaur
(58)Skin -- Mikey/William by

romanticalgirl
(59)Gerard/Lyn-Z - Take You In by

romanticalgirl
(60)Pete/Mikey -- first time by

romanticalgirl
(61)Awake With Sleepy Eyes -- Gerard/Gabe/Brendon by

dr_jasley
(62)Take A Sad Song and Make It Better -- Brendon/Spencer by

fabu
(63)And You're Overdue -- Brendon/Gabe/Gerard by

creepylicious
(64)Gabe/Gerard -- the morning after the night before by

delphinapterus
(65)We Kiss Like Painted Tigers -- Bert/Gerard by

dear_monday
(66)Sink Right In -- Bob/Frank by

desfinado
(67)Dem Dry Bones -- Gerard/Mikey --

desfinado
(68)Wish You Were Here -- Pete/William by

romanticalgirl
(69)Bring 'Em Back Alive -- Kobra Kid/Gabe by

romanticalgirl
(70)Worst Ever -- Mikey/Pete by

desfinado
(71)Some Kind of Wonderful -- Pete/Gabe by

romanticalgirl
(72)Gerard/Mikey, Frank/Ray - Love and Chainsaws by

s0ckpupp3t
(73)Just a Shade of Green -- Frank/Brendon by

dapatty
(74)On The Couch -- Mikey/Frank by

s0ckpupp3t
(75)Brendon/Ryan by

fannyt
(76)Familiarity Breeds Contempt -- Mikey/Pete/Alicia by

romanticalgirl
(77)How They Fit -- MCR GSF -- by

dapatty
(78)Hold On -- Pete/Travie by

romanticalgirl
(79)William/Carden -- Airports by

romanticalgirl
(80)Not Quite Paradise --Gerard/Gabe by

romanticalgirl
(81)Patrick/Bebe -- More in common than just Pete by

romanticalgirl
(82)Welcome to the Band, Dan/The Used -- by

rokittomars
(83)Noises Off -- Mikey/Jepha by

mtminded1
(84)Objects in the Mirror -- Gerard/Jamia by

fabu
(85)Frank/Fun Ghoul by

akamine_chan
(86)Frank/Ray - Late Nights Over Monroeville by

delphinapterus
(87)Will Slowly Fade Away -- Gerard/Mikey by

turps33
(88)In search of all things beautiful 1/2; Crossover - Frank/Gerard, Adam/Tommy by

creepylicious
(89)If Wishes Were Horses -- Pete/Mikey by

romanticalgirl
(90)CS GSF by

rokittomars
(91)Anchored in That Old Time Rock'n'Roll by

delphinapterus
(92)Worth the Wait -- Pete/Mikey by

radioaches
(93)Diversion -- Mikey/Alicia by

romanticalgirl
(94)The Warmth of Spring -- Brendon/Brent by

dr_jasley
(95)This Is Not A Love Song -- Frank/Gerard by

fabu
(96)Pedicone/Frank -- working out by

romanticalgirl
(97)Mikey/Pete -- reunited by

cold_clarity
(98)Luke and Leia -- Gerard/Mikey by

s0ckpupp3t
(99) Mikey/Gabe -- drunken, sloppy make outs by

romanticalgirl
(100) Bob/Ray --in the studio by

syndelar
(101) Not Kissed Brendon/Spencer by

eledhwenlin
(102)Brendon -- bouncy kisses by

brandywine421
(103) Bebe/Gabe -- Gabe wooing by

brandywine421

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

*apparently I'm trying to pepper in more Brendon prompts:)*

Brendon/anyone spazzy, bouncy kisses

AN: IDEK.

"Oh my God, Alex - fuck, Alex, you have to help me," Brendon called, skidding to a stop in front of him. "Kiss me - right now."

Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you talking about, Urie? You know I have a girlfriend."

"Doesn't matter," Brendon said, pulling him in by his arm and kissing him on the mouth.

"Five seconds minimum per kiss, Brendon, don't forget!" a voice called from down the hall.

Brendon pulled away, flushed. "Thanks, will you sign my card?"

Alex was still stunned by the slightly cherry aftertaste but took the index card and studied it.

"Dude, I have to get six more kisses before I make goal, just sign it," Brendon said, bouncing on his heels and holding out a sharpie.

"Do I want to know what this is for?" Alex asked, signing Suaresy with a flourish under Victoria's name.

"Probably not, but thank you for your lips. Gotta go," Brendon said, taking the card back and scrawling a check mark on his wrist before darting through the exit.

"Weird," he muttered.

"Suarez, hey, wait up - I need you!" Nate almost knocked him down in his rush.

"God, what now?" Alex asked, scrubbing at the mark on his wrist.

"Fuck, Urie got you already? I'm going to kill him," Nate hissed, rushing out of the building.

Gabe and Ryland appeared with pleased grins on their faces. "Did you guys have something to do with this?" he asked, holding up his wrist.

"Of course not," Gabe said. Ryland snorted.

"Seriously. Are they spreading mono? Surely you two haven't sank low enough to bring biological warfare into this," Alex said.

Ryland patted him on the back. "Don't worry. It's just a friendly wager."

The door slammed open again and Brendon rushed in and nudged Alex aside, hopping to stand on the toes of Ryland's shoes before marking a huge checkmark on his cheek and kissing him backwards a step. "Foul!" Gabe protested through his laughter.

Brendon didn't react and moved quickly to peck Gabe on the mouth and draw a check on his face.

"What the fuck, guys?" Alex asked.

"I win," Brendon said, shoving the card at Gabe triumphantly. "Also, you should probably call an ambulance because Nate just got punched in the face outside. But I still win."

DUDE, DUDE, DUDE, BRANNNDDDDYYYYYY!!*bounces like a happy little kid*

this is sooo happy and giddy and fun. THANK YOU*massive spin hugs*

<3 <3 <3 <3

That is all kinds of adorable! I love how care free they all are and how Alex is so confused about what's going on :D

"Also, you should probably call an ambulance because Nate just got punched in the face outside. But I still win."
Way to be emotional there Brendon. Great story!

He kissed a boy just to start shit.

Pete is straight, of course, but Patrick is actually straight, which would make him less fun to toy with if Pete didn't treat him like his emotional property. Gabe noses against Patrick's collarbone, grinning at the uncomfortable shifting he can hear from where Pete is sitting a few feet away. Patrick huffs out an annoyed breath and cranes his neck around Gabe's 'fro so he can see his laptop screen.

They're sitting in between buses, waiting. The vast majority of tour life consists of waiting, interspersed with a few hours of frantic motion, then more half-days of nothing. Patrick is using this time to do something extremely important, apparently. "Knock it off, Gabe," he says impatiently. Gabe nibbles his ear in response.

"He said knock it off," snaps Pete.

Gabe lifts his head, grins directly into Pete's gaze, and smacks a big long wet one right on Patrick's lips. Patrick splutters against him hilariously, and even though Gabe is braced for it, the punch knocks their lips apart.

"Jesus Christ," says Patrick. "Leave it, Pete, he's just baiting you."

It's true, Gabe is, but Pete has never been one to let his awareness of his own shortcomings keep them from functioning. He tackles Gabe, fists flying. There, finally, something interesting. Gabe rolls away from Patrick to avoid accidentally hitting him, because Pete would get seriously pissed if Patrick got hurt. It's not about Patrick, anyway.

Pete's aiming for Gabe's sensitive areas, and when their tussling turns into wrestling, Gabe can feel that he's hard. He always gets hard when they fight. Gabe is, too. He doesn't usually get aroused from brawling with his friends, but he does with Pete, because he never knows if this is going to be the time that Pete gives in, lets himself stop throwing punches and start rubbing off frantically like he so obviously wants to.

Pete knees Gabe in the stomach, and Gabe can tell the moment he feels Gabe's hard-on against his shin. He jumps up, backs away a few steps. "Leave Patrick the fuck alone," he says nervously and disappears onto his bus.

Not this time, then. Maybe Gabe needs a plan of attack that doesn't involve the presence of a real straight boy.

Man, Gabe. He's being such an ass here, but I'm loving how he's baiting Pete, and how Pete's responding but is still backing away from that.

That's a very interesting dance they've got going on.

Gabe: professional asshole.

Hmmm - really interesting and thoughtful! Would love more of this...

I dunno, I think this Pete isn't the sort to overcome his issues. I think he keeps fighting, but never rubs off.

Bwah! This is hilarious - the opening cracked me up. . .

Thanks!

I'm a horrible person, but I love Gabe being a jerk and just trying to provoke Pete. And Patrick trying so hard to ignore him. Yayes.

(Denial: 1. Pete: 0.)

Asshole!Gabe is my favorite Gabe. :D Glad you liked it!

YAY <3 this appeals me to me on so many levels *__*

Thanks! I'm a big fan of violence and true UST, myself. :P

because he never knows if this is going to be the time that Pete gives in, lets himself stop throwing punches and start rubbing off frantically like he so obviously wants to.

YES. UGH. I love how you write so few fics where everyone is magically gay and okay with it - you actually deal with what it's like to be questioning, or to know with certainty, but also know that knowing doesn't make it any easier. ♥ BOYS.

>.> I just like torturing them >.>

Oh man, Pete's issues are my favorite part of this. *_______*

It can be killjoys verse only or a crossover. I just want those two to meet.

It's hard to believe that the desert will get cold in a few hours, but Gabe believes it. He knows better than to go off soul-searching by himself without checking the Wikipedia page on deserts first. He's not, like, stupid. So he gathers up some wood and sits there with his lighter, trying to get it to catch. It's really not working.

"Need some help there?"

Gabe looks up to see a guy standing there, hip cocked. He's dressed in a manner of which Gabe approves fully: black skinny jeans, a yellow tiger-striped shirt, and a red jacket, with a strangely decorated motorcycle helmet under his arm. There's no motorcycle in sight. His hair is bleached and styled like someone tried to slick it back with dust, and his face is friendly in an expressionless sort of way.

"Sure," Gabe says. "You know how to start a fire?"

The guy draws something off his hip that looks a hell of a lot like a gun. Gabe raises his eyebrows, then scrambles back in a panic when the guy starts shooting fucking lasers or some shit at his sad little pile of twigs. "What the fuck? Who the fuck are you?" Gabe demands.

The guy scoots one of the bigger pieces of wood toward the tiny flame and sits cross-legged on the other side of it. "You can call me Kobra," he says, and twirls the gun in his fingers.

***

"I just need a goal," says Gabe. "I'm awesome at getting shit done when I know what I'm doing it for, but if I don't have a plan, I'm the laziest bastard on earth. I need some kind of purpose."

Wikipedia has proven itself wise. The desert is fucking freezing at night. Gabe and Kobra are sitting next to each other now, pressed up arm to arm and hip to hip, sharing body heat and leaning toward the little fire. It would probably go out if Gabe went to sleep, but sleep was never part of the plan for this trip.

"What's important to you?" asks Kobra, and well, that's the question, isn't it? Gabe shrugs, feeling Kobra's jacket rub against his shoulder as he does.

"Music. I want to do something with music. And... I don't know, getting people to stop letting their cynicism dictate their lives. I guess that's kind of lofty."

Kobra puts a hand on Gabe's knee gently. "If you didn't want lofty, you wouldn't be on a fucking spirit quest."

This is a point.

"The world sucks," murmurs Kobra, and his face is close to Gabe's. "It's easy to give up, once you have that realization. Because it's not going to change, not really, not on a massive enough scale to really mean anything. The world is always going to suck. We can't really do anything about that. But that doesn't mean we have to be miserable. We can party through the apocalypse without a reason."

"That is a reason," whispers Gabe. "Fuck yeah, partying through the apocalypse. Living in the... fuck." He touches Kobra's face, and then they're kissing, cold from the desert air but hot from the friction of their tongues.

***

Sleeping wasn't part of Gabe's plan, but plans aren't worth shit at the end of the world, and when he wakes up Kobra is gone.

He staggers back to civilization in a daze, and when people ask him what he saw in the desert, he tells them.

***

Further Kobra Kid/Gabe reading: here and here.

Mikey is Gabe's Kobra in the desert!

That makes so much sense and I'm sitting here thinking, of course he is! He has to be.

This is amazing *___*

Glad it worked! :D

"That is a reason," whispers Gabe. "Fuck yeah, partying through the apocalypse. Living in the... fuck." He touches Kobra's face, and then they're kissing, cold from the desert air but hot from the friction of their tongues.

Mmmm I love how they get all worked up talking and just have to KISS before they've even stopped, how excited Gabe gets about it. UNF.

Glad you liked! :)

Ha! This is awesome. Also, makes so much sense. :)

Gabe’s heard stories. They’ve all heard them. Urban legends and fantasies and bullshit propaganda. He ignores them, just making his living day to day in the domed safety of Battery City. It’s not like he’s got anything better to do. He’s been to parties that have been busted up and seen kids that used to be the scene scrubbing graffiti off cement, and he’d rather live his life in relative comfort than get caught up in the bullshit. He had his share, done his time.

That doesn’t take into account turning the corner on his way home and getting slammed into by some guy, running at full tilt like hell itself is on his heels. They crash in real time, even though it feels like slow motion, and Gabe registers air and heat and dry and cement and solid and pain like flashes from a camera shutter.

When the guy looks up, poised to take off, Gabe knows instinctively who he is. The sound of motorcycles and pounding feet is getting closer, and the changing billboards are like cameras watching them all, everything is something that could be watching you. Gabe grabs the guy’s wrist and gets to his feet in the same moment, shoving him into a stairwell in one of the old factories that now serves officially as apartment buildings, but more realistically as slums.

The guy stands out, because he’s like a shock of color. Red and blue and yellow like some sort of fucking primary color palette. He’s got a bandanna over his mouth and his eyes are hidden behind dark glasses. Gabe can feel him wanting to run, and Gabe remembers what it’s like.

Jerking the bandanna down, Gabe presses him against the wall, mouth fitting over his. He runs his hand through the shock of yellow hair, fisting it in his hand to make it less noticeable. His body angles to the left, blocking the view from the entrance of the stairwell, so all that’s visible is his gray suit, his dark hair, his black shoes. Anonymity has its advantages.

The guy kisses back, his hands fisting in the lapels of Gabe’s jacket, and Gabe can feel the pressure of his fists. He shifts more and there’s the press of a laser pistol and the smooth leather of a holster. Gabe’s clothes are thin due to the balmy Battery City weather, but this guy is dressed for protection, not comfort. Gabe gets lost in leather and the smell of dust, nothing like the purified air he’s used to breathing. It makes him thirsty, hungry for something he thought long dead.

Gabe pulls away and looks at him, seeing himself reflected back in the darkness of his sunglasses. “They’ll head south toward the Estates.” The Estates were the first promise of better living, and now they’re where the street rats live, where the junkie angels trade sex and batteries for neon to shoot in their veins, lighting themselves up. The guy has a cobra on his jacket, obviously the Kobra Kid, and Gabe touches it briefly. It reminds him of someone he used to know. Maybe himself. “You can make it out if you take the Mill Tunnel.”

Kobra nods and starts off with a loping gait, not quite stopping when he turns around and looks at Gabe. “Keep running.”

I don't know where to curse you or kiss you because now I'm desperate for thousands more words of this. Gabe touching the cobra, and it reminding him of himself.

The kiss and the contrasts between them. My heart!

Gabe has the spark now. Apparently my genre is destined to be Kobra Kid Mikey and Gabe fics. Heeee.

\o/

That makes me so happy!

Intriguing! I agree with

turps33, I'd like to see more of this!

We'll see if it mutates into something more. I can see where it would go, but I'm not sure I have it in me to write it, at least not right now.

Nice. Especially where the junkie angels trade sex and batteries for neon to shoot in their veins, lighting themselves up.

Thank you! I kind of liked that line myself.

You followed our advice I see, excellent! :-)

The morning after the night before

The slam of a door wakes Gabe long before his phone alarm is set to wake him. The room is as dark as hotel rooms ever get with the streetlights filtering through the edges of the curtains to cast everything in deep shadows. It's a problem with every hotel room he's ever slept in and even in one as nice as Gerard's the curtains aren't the powerful blackout curtains Gabe knows are the only answer to a truly dark room. In the hall, he can hear the quick thump of footsteps disappearing down the corridor toward the bank of elevators. He stares into the gloom at the silhouette of the pile of comics on the desk sitting next to the Spaceboy statuette that Gerard had raved to him about for a solid hour. Gabe knows all about the fan who gave it to Gerard (dressed as a Terminaut for the Con) and how Gerard is planning to move his Eisners to make a place for it. Gabe has friends who've won Grammys, can name-drop designers and have it mean more than "we met at a party", and yet Gerard's casual use of "my Eisners" makes him feel weird. Beside him, Gerard snuffles in his sleep and flings his arm out so his hand smacks against Gabe's chest right on the bruise that his teeth had put there hours earlier.

By rights Gabe shouldn't have even been at the Con. He should have been on the other side of the country with his band prepping for their first show on the new tour but Pete had called. He'd bullied and cajoled until Gabe agreed to clandestinely show up to support Mikey because Mikey was doing his first solo panel for his comic. He'd known for months that Mikey was following in his big brother's footsteps yet again but until Pete's last-minute call he hadn't realized how nervous Mikey was. It made him feel guilty. He had been late enough that he'd had to sneak into the back of the room to stand next to Gerard and his bodyguard who were both trying their best not to attract attention. He'd been surprised by how pleased Gerard had looked to see him.

Even though he's known both Ways for years, Gabe had still be surprised when Gerard had flirted and teased in-between reassuring Mikey again and again "you were fucking awesome Mikes." Mikey had been too busy to catch Gerard out which had made Gabe feel freer to respond in kind once he realized what Gerard was doing. Pete had noticed but he'd only leered a little bit before returning to fussing over Mikey in his own weird way. It had seemed only natural to follow through when Gerard had invited him up and a much better way to kill time before his flight than his original plan.

Gerard rolls onto his side and pulls most of the covers underneath himself leaving Gabe with only the sheet. He eases his shin away from were Gerard has his foot hooked over it at what Gabe thinks would be a truly uncomfortable angle if Gerard was conscious of it, and slides out of bed. The gloom in the room is slowly lightening. In the glow of his phone he gathers up his clothes and the slim carryon he flew out with before he retreats to the bathroom to dress and tame his appearance. The bruise Gerard left on his chest looks darker than he expected in the mirror and he touches it with one finger, pressing gently to assess just how long he'll be feeling Gerard's mark on his skin.

When he emerges from the bathroom Gerard has moved so he's sprawled across the bed taking up more room than should be possible. The blankets are twisted around him and one foot is sticking out. The clock is telling him that his phone should be ringing within the next five minutes. Gabe crosses quietly over to the bed and looks at Gerard's face. It's been Gabe's experience that everyone looks younger when they sleep but even with the deep shadows hidden parts of his face Gerard has the same fresh-faced look he does when he's awake. Gabe bends down and places a gentle kiss on Gerard's lips, the opposite of the ones they traded while they were wake. He wonders what it would be like to kiss Gerard like that if he was awake. Would he like it or would he turn it back to the frantic deep kisses they'd shared before? It was only a one-time thing after all. Gerard's mouth falls open a little and Gabe turns away. He has a plane to catch.

Oh, Gabe.

I felt for him here. He feels so off-balance and wanting so much.

I really like how you got him there too. I'm very impressed with how much you got in to a short amount of story like this.

Thanks. In my personal fanon Gabe and Gerard have history from those long ago New Jersey parties and it adds some angst. It's always nice to hear that the detail is enjoyed because sometimes I worry it overshadows the story.

That was both lovely and sad. Poor Gabe, Gerard has him all off balance. I wonder what Gerard thinks of it all?

Thanks, I'm very tempted to write Gerard's POV. In my personal fanon they have a history from the house parties and it seems to make them angsty whenever I write them.

Oh, lovely. I like so much what you did and didn't show, the way it was so easy and just happened, the consequences something and somewhere else.

Thank-you, Gabe putting things off seemed to fit with the prompt.

I like everything about this. Seriously, I love how it's from Gabe's pov and how confused he is over Gerard and how Gerard just doesn't seem to care much. AND: Gerard seduces everyone!
I would like to read more of this.

Thank-you, I'm very tempted to write more of this for you to read :)

When Gabe wakes up, he's lying on the floor of the bathroom, his head caught between the commode and the tub, neck at an awkward angle. He manages to get himself up onto his elbows without adding to the pounding in his skull. He blinks a couple of times, trying to make the room stop spinning and make sense. It eventually does one, but no matter how many times he blinks, he's still wearing a kilt that's pushed up to his stomach, and Gerard Way's head is in his lap. His naked lap. Where his dick is.

"Huh."

Gerard makes a noise that might be a word or a stomach gurgle or an alien language for all Gabe can make out. The only thing he desperately hopes it isn't is a prelude to Gerard vomiting. He makes the noise again and nuzzles Gabe's dick, his hand scratching at Gabe's thigh.

"Were we roleplaying Highlander last night or something?"

Gerard sniffs and snuggles closer, burying his nose at the base of Gabe's dick, right above his balls. Every breath makes Gabe's dick twitch and his balls jerk in reaction.

"Seriously. Why am I wearing a kilt?" Gerard snuffles and doesn't answer. Gabe figures he has two choices. One involves everyone escaping with their dignity intact, but that also involves everyone else being in the same boat he is, and having no fucking clue what happened. So, option two. He reaches down, fingers grazing his cock and forcing him to suck in a breath. He grabs Gerard's nose, cutting off his breathing. He feels his mouth open, hot air on Gabe's balls and then Gerard jerks back, rubbing his nose and squinting.

"Shazam."

Gabe blinks. "Really?"

He rubs his eyes with the balls of his hands and slaps at the bathroom light until it goes off, leaving them in the weird green glow of the nightlight. "Porkchops."

"What?"

Gerard shakes his head and manages to focus on Gabe. "Saporta?"

"Give the man a monkey." Gabe wriggles out from beside the toilet and sits on top of it. The kilt covers all his naked parts now, though his cock is still interested in the goings-on, pressing against the fabric, eavesdropping to see if it's going to get mentioned. Attention whore. "Do you know what happened?"

"You woke me up."

"Before that."

He looks dubious. "I was asleep?"

"Why..." He forces himself to calm down, taking a deep breath. "Why am I in a kilt, Gerard?"

"Oh!" He beams happily. "You lost a bet with Tyler."

"I never lose a bet with Tyler."

"Well, Tyler cheated."

"So he made me wear a kilt."

"No."

"No." Gabe rubs his temples, belatedly realizing that he should have taken all the aspirin before he'd woken Gerard. "Then..."

"He locked you in the bathroom with me. Like 'seven minutes in heaven'?" Gerard beams. "I helped him cheat."

"So we're locked in a bathroom."

"Yeah. I think Mikey'll come looking for us soon enough."

"And the kilt?"

"Oh." Gerard grabs the hem of it and lifts it up, peeking underneath. "You were really drunk and you said you'd have a better chance of getting a good fuck in if you wore a skirt. This was the only thing we could find."

"This was my idea?"

"Not the making out with me part."

"Did I get laid?"

"If you did, it was after I passed out." Gerard shrugs. "Sorry. I mean, we were both really drunk. I don't even think we made out."

"This is all some elaborate prank, isn't it?"

Gerard blinks, all innocence. "You said you had to wear it like a real Scot."

"Of course I did." Gabe sighs and rubs his jaw, feeling the burn of a night's worth of stubble. "Mikey'll realize we're missing, right?"

"Yeah."

Gabe nods and grabs Gerard's hand, tugging him up onto his lap. "Okay. Well, c'mere." He gets Gerard straddling him and grabs his hips. "I owe you seven minutes of kisses."

You're really rocking the dialogue in this one.

I love your Gabe so much, and the thought of him in a kilt. Hell yes.

Gabe's not sure what he did to deserve *any* of this, thank you very much. Mmmmm, those leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeegs of his.

That was SO CUTE!!! The dialogue is hilarious and your Gabe is just so awesome.

They just fall right into ridiculous. ♥ them.

The dialogue made me laugh. I love how Gabe is trying to get a quick answer but ends up having to lead Gerard to answer. Also, I'm really glad there is a happy ending.

They are ridiculous. Gabe has no idea what he's doing. Talking to Gerard is like juggling bubbles. Only with kisses.

this is seriously awesome and hilarious and also cute. The best evar :D

They are the most ridiculous (and drunk). ♥

Oh, they are so ridiculous. ::smishes them::

I love their ridiculousness. It's like extra levels of special!

A suprise at Comic Con.

Grant strolls through the crowded lobby of the convention center. He's being trailed by several polo-shirted minders and he knows some functionary upstairs in the VIP rooms is probably having a minor heart attack right about now, but he's on a mission. He heads for the Starbucks stand, and by the time he gets there one of the polo shirts has made the line part like the Red Sea. It's the kind of thing that happens, these days, and he won't say he minds, exactly, but he makes sure to stop and say hello to the owners of several outstretched hands in the line. The actual coffee ordering takes the least time of all, but he pays careful attention that the construction of the drink is exactly to specifications. It's not for him, after all. It's a surprise, and surprises should always be pleasant.

He's probably more careful than is strictly necessary walking back toward the greenroom. He asked the barista to put one of the green stoppers in the lid, but there are a lot of people around, and despite the minders, bumping into someone is not outside the realm of possibilities. Grant quite likes his suit and he doesn't particularly want it soaked in coffee. Or for the surprise to be ruined.

Finally, they're away from the roiling masses of people and into the quieter areas of the convention center. The steady roar of the crowds fades into a hum punctuated by various people of various amounts of import chatting or laughing.

He was right about the possible cardiac irregularities he was causing, it seems; there's a young woman with a staff name badge hovering by a half-open door, and when she sees him she loses about five years of stress from her expression. "Mr. Morrison! You have a few minutes, Mr. Way just arrived, would you like - oh. I see you have coffee."

"I'll just wait a few minutes and help myself to some water," he squints at her name badge, "- Sharon. This isn't for me." She holds
the door open for him and when he walks through he can see Gerard, sunglasses shoved up into his messy hair, slouched in the
corner talking to Scott Allie, who's acting as their moderator today. Mehdi, Gerard's ever-present security, is in the other corner talking
quietly on a cell phone.

Gerard looks up at the sound of the door closing. Grant was right; he does look tired, slight smudges under his eyes. He looks, in fact,
like he'd prefer to still be wearing his sunglasses, perhaps napping on one of the couches, but he smiles instantly, brightly, when he sees Grant. "Grant, you made it!"

"Did you think I'd stand you up? Never. I was out on the floor getting you this." Grant holds up the cup for Gerard to see. Gerard cycles through several facial expressions in a matter of seconds: surprise, gratitude, a little bashfulness, and settles on a full, beaming grin.

"Really?"

Grant suddenly feels the smallest bit self-conscious, but he ignores it and hands Gerard the cup. "Yes, really."

Gerard comes closer, goes up on the balls of his feet and kisses Grant on the cheek then puts the cup down on a nearby table and wraps Grant up in a hug.

"I don't get to see you enough," he says into Grant's ear. And no, they never do. Especially not when MCR has been on hiatus for months.

"I keep inviting you to the house in Scotland," Grant teases. "I know there's rather more...nature than you're accustomed to, but you might find it enjoyable."

"Maybe."

Gerard's giving him a considering look and Grant opens his mouth to respond when Sharon calls from the doorway, "Time, gentlemen." Scott follows her out, and Grant can see Medhi look back at Gerard, who - holds up a finger? Grant's eyes flick back to Medhi for a moment and then a hand closes around his wrist and tugs, and as he turns back to Gerard the door clicks shut in front of them and Gerard is on tiptoe, leaning close and - kissing him. On the mouth this time.

Grant is taken by surprise for only a second before he wraps his arms around Gerard and kisses back. He knows they don't have much time before Sharon comes looking for them, so he makes the most of it, letting his hands wander a little bit, his tongue exploring Gerard's mouth. Finally Gerard pulls back, breathing hard.

"That was profoundly unfair," Grant murmurs, just as breathless. "We're going to be onstage in front of hundreds of people in a few minutes and all I'm going to be able to think about is kissing you again."

"That's the point," Gerard answers, eyes glittering.

"Well, point made. Where are you scheduled to be after this?"

Gerard tilts his head, pretends to think about it. "Wherever you're going to be?" he answers with a hopeful grin.

"That's the correct answer," Grant tells him smoothly.

"That's a promise."

Grant almost reaches for him again, but the expected tap on the door sounds, and he freezes, heaves a deep breath. Gerard starts for the
door but Grant stops him with a word. "Gerard?" Gerard turns. "Don't forget your coffee."

Gerard reaches for the cup and they start walking. "How could I ever? I could get used to this kind of surprise every day."

Gerard grins and follows Sharon down the hall, and as he brushes by, Grant murmurs for his ears alone, "So could I."

---

fleurdeliser and

tuesdaysgone, btw!! :D

Edited 2011-07-07 19:51 (UTC)

WHEEEEE!!! *lots of flaily hands* That was absolutely delightful!! Grant being so careful with the coffee and Gerard's tiredness transforming into delight and happiness. So much love!

Thanks, glad you liked it :DDD

:DDDDDDDDDDDDD

<333

That is all kinds of awesome. I love how the coffee is so important and the kiss is amazing *___*

thank you :DDD

totally lovely! you two write them so well! <3

awww, thanks <3

"That was profoundly unfair," Grant murmurs, just as breathless. "We're going to be onstage in front of hundreds of people in a few minutes and all I'm going to be able to think about is kissing you again."

"That's the point," AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THEM.

Grant is so smitten and adorable and I love the way Gerard springs it on him and this so totally explains all the heart-eyes at that panel.

Yay for more Grant always!

Right?? I wanted to link the PICTURE with this but I forgot.

Thank youuuuuuu. And YES MORE GRANT ALWAYS.

:D!

Aww Grant! I love this.

Thanks!!

Very nice, as always with you two and those two! :)

Thank you <3

Awww - that's super sweet. . .

Thanks!!!

"That was profoundly unfair," Grant murmurs, just as breathless. "We're going to be onstage in front of hundreds of people in a few minutes and all I'm going to be able to think about is kissing you again."

"That's the point," Gerard answers, eyes glittering.

Well THAT explains it, then. BOYS. I enjoyed this SO MUCH :D

Thank you bb <333

awwwww :-) so lovely!!

Thanks, sweets! ♥

Lovely and sweet and perfectly them. Thank you!

Thank YOU! ♥

Thanks for reading :DDD

\0/ THIS explains the hearteyes all through their 2008 panel <3

:D

INDEED!

Thank you!

First kiss at Warped 2005.

Patrick wonders what Gerard's hair would feel like now. Dyed in blood red and maybe brittle to the touch. He wonders how the bone of Gerard's jaw would feel like in his palm now that they're both so much less fleshy, somehow. He is sure he could still feel Gerard's lashes brushing against his cheek if he would lean in - and it would be the same, but different.
Sometimes he can still taste Gerard on his lips, in his mouth. The memory assaulting him, haunting him like an unfinished piece of music. Stuck in his head for years and waiting for the right moment. Patrick knows there won't be a right moment.
There wasn't ever one, but that doesn't mean they didn't have one.
One imperfectly perfect moment in time that will always smell like cigarettes, summer heat, asphalt, sweat and gas.
That will taste like smoke and soda and pencil, because Gerard always used to chew on them when he was thinking hard - he probably still does it. (He heard that later from Andy).
A kiss that felt like having everything in one second and having it ripped away in the next.
Patrick remembers the feel of Gerard's lips, soft and hesitant and chapped, before Gerard's hand curled around Patrick's hip, his fingers digging in a bit too hard, his other hand on the warm metal of a bus. Patrick remembers the curve of Gerard's jaw perfect under his palm, how it just fitted right. He committed Gerard's soft gasp to memory as he bit Gerard's lip only to see what it would do to Gerard, the jerk of Gerard's fingers on his hip as he licked the sting away.
He remembers that he wasn't thinking anything at all as they started this, but when it was over he knew it was something. Something bigger, something he shouldn't have done, because it would haunt him. Gerard kissed his neck and Patrick closed his eyes against the glaring sun, counted Gerard's pants against his skin silently (seven: three short, one sigh, three a bit longer). When Gerard leaned away, Patrick grabbed a handful of his unwashed, slightly damp hair (it was so fucking hot on that day that this whole thing had the quality of a heat-dream, a hallucination anyway) and made Gerard look at him. He wanted to kiss Gerard again - maybe. Gerard licked his lips and stared back. Silently. The heat made them lazy, made Patrick's brain hazy, but maybe that was the way Gerard looked at him. Patrick brushed his thumb against Gerard's lip and new it wouldn't feel the same and one taste was bad enough anyway. Gerard waited him out. Patrick closed his eyes and let go. The fabric of Gerard's shirt slipping through his fingers.
Sometimes when he hears Gerard's voice on the radio he wonders.

~end~

Patrick/Gerard isn't a pairing that I ever really think of, but you make it work here.

You capture that feeling of hot, lazy summer so well.

Thank you. I like the unusual pairings and especially those with Gerard in them (I think I'll try everything as long as Gerard is a part of a pairing.../o\)
Thank you again.

Oh, my little heart, it breaks! :( This is beautiful, though - I love Patrick noting and remembering all the little details, and "haunting him like an unfinished piece of music." ♥

_{And, um. Is that an Emilie Autumn reference I spy in that title? O.O}

Thank you so much.
I think Patrick would, to me Patrick is someone who feels in music, if that makes sense.
Yes! Yes, it is. Feel hugged for catching it.

This is lovely! Such a perfect what-might-have-been moment.

Thank you. Glad you like it.

Oh. My heart. I love this. It was sweet and heart breaking all at the same time! ♥♥

Thanks so much! <3

...it was so fucking hot on that day that this whole thing had the quality of a heat-dream, a hallucination anyway

Oh, nice. Liked that.

Thank you so much.

Sunset in the desert.

The sky goes wild as the sun goes down, crazy technicolour that he wouldn't believe was real if he hadn't seen it night after night. It makes him wish for heavy paper, oil pastels and thick acrylic paint, luxuries he hasn't had since he had a life that could afford luxuries. It's not that any of them minds going to the red markets for things that are illegal in the black-and-white world, but things that aren't necessary for survival -- well, everyone learned to leave them behind a while ago.

Jet Star explained it once, the dust in the atmosphere, the particles of acid rain, hanging there to filter sunlight and paint the world. He said it was hard to capture -- film gets overexposed, and digital never quite got the richness of the colour, and tweaking it afterwards just made it look fake, because nothing like that could be real.

That was only once, though. Film is another luxury, another thing to slow you down, like names. So they just sit on a ridge of rock, some nights when it's still and clear and the waves are quiet, and watch the sun go down. It's the recording they can do, now.

Party Poison leans sideways, into Jet Star's warmth. It gets cold in the zones with night coming on, boiling to deep-freeze in minutes, it sometimes seems like. He feels like a lizard, growing sluggish in the cold. Jet Star wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer in, warm even through his heavy jacket. It's what they do.

The sky starts shading into the deep purple of night, and Party beaces himself to get up, to go back to their hidey-hole and get on with things. Movement is life, and art may be the weapon but these days it's mostly in his head. But Jet Star's arm tightens, holding him in place. He feels stubble and the brush of lips against his temple, just over the groove his mask strap has worn into his face.

"Thanks," Jet Star says, as quiet as the sky, as the stretch of dry sand in front of them. Then he lets go. Party Poison stands up and stretches out the kinks from sitting on rock, turns back to offer Jet Star a hand up. He searches for words -- he's out of ideas right now. Finally he settles on, "You too," and starts picking his way down the sharp slope of the outcrop. He can hear Jet Star behind him; they'll be back at the diner before it's dark.

You travel light; you get by.

(Sorry, this got more melancholy than I intended!)

That is beautiful. Melancholy, sure, but in a very lovely way.

I like how calm they are together, and how they are getting by as best as they can, seeing beauty in the places they still can.

Oooh, this is beautiful! Your descriptions are so vivid and real, I can see them sitting there. And the mood is so warm and quiet, and yes melancholic too, but I love how close they are.

Oh this is lovely and so so fitting.

Jet Star wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer in, warm even through his heavy jacket. It's what they do.

What they do. So well said. ♥

This was lovely and beautiful.

Film is another luxury, another thing to slow you down, like names.

I love the idea of names having a physical weight, of having to be left behind...

Their first kiss.

They've been arguing a little over an hour. The room is so fucking bright and Poison's eyes hurt like a motherfucker.

He can't see a way out of this, there's no way in neon hell he's gonna give up everything that Korse is demanding, and they'll have to drag the co-ords out of his twitching brain if they want the bunker. It's not gonna happen.

For all his slamming of chairs and spluttering Korse is pretty patient. Perhaps patient isn't the right word, persistent. Poison watched a scorpion once slide into a small sinkhole out in the sands. the sides were steep, but the thing kept trying to get a run up at the sides only to endlessly slide back down again. There was no way he was gonna put his hand in there to scoop it out, he'd have been dead. Korse was starting to remind Poison all too much of that scorpion.

Korse was crowding up into his space again, making Poison turn his head to avoid too much eye contact. It was a game, an eternal balshy fucking chess match. It went the same way every time they met, but Korse never played his hand.

"If not your brother, what about the others?" Korse was saying, for the millionth fucking time, stuck record, it woulda made Dr D wince.
"I'm not gonna do that either." Poison spit back.
"Must be lonely out there," Korse sneered, the edge of...something else...colouring his voice. "I bet you just want someone around to keep your bed warm."
"It's not like that and you know it." Poison knew he was just reaching for straws now, idly he wondered if BL/ind allowed their employees to have friends.
Korse was in front of him before he knew what had happened. He was being bodily lifted by the front of his jacket almost out of the seat. Korse's mouth covering his, invasive, insistent.
"Thought so." Korse hissed as he dropped Poison back onto the polypropene seat, stunned. He stormed out, slamming the reinforced door behind him. Leaving Poison alone under the lights.

"Is that what this is really about for you?!" Poison screamed at the surveillance camera over the door, "Jealousy!?" the led on the camera blinked calmly, regularly, his only response.

That pairing is so fucked up and yet I love it so.

The tension between them is so apparent, and I love the contrast between that last scream and how you describe the camera as calm.

Very nice!! I love the ending.

Oh wow. I would read so much more of this. UGH. Korse. He makes me want ALL the dub-con.

Beautifully done bb.

How can this be so fucked-up and funny?

Oh, Korse, you evil motherfucker. *sighs*

Gerard, first time wearing makeup!

"Don't get strung out by the way I look," Gerard sings to himself, because if anyone walks in on him, there's no better excuse than Tim Curry. He pops the cap off the lipstick tube, one of the ancient worn-down ones his mom clearly hasn't touched in years. He doesn't think she would have noticed anyway, and if she did she probably wouldn't care, but... it's not about shame, or the consequences of anyone else knowing. It's just that Gerard wants this to himself.

He doesn't get many things to himself. His art is the closest thing to privacy he has, and even that isn't really all his. People know it's there, even when he won't let them see it. Gerard coats his lips carefully with color, respecting the edges of his face, filling his skin like he fills lines on the page. With this, no one knows to ask.

If they did, he thinks, looking at himself in the mirror, he might show them. Maybe. Depending on who it was.

"Just a sweet transvestite," he sings under his breath as he closes the tube and picks up an eyeliner pencil. He's not good at things getting near his eyes, and he keeps cringing away from his own touch, but eventually he manages to edge his eyelids in dark brown without stabbing himself. The mascara is next, and whoa, that really makes a difference. He never really noticed his eyelashes before now, never looked at them. The way they stand out lets him think the word "pretty" for the first time.

The blush is last. He thinks he heard somewhere that it's supposed to go on first, but if there's anything this isn't about, it's how things are supposed to work.

Gerard leans forward onto his elbows and stares into the mirror. He wants to look at the makeup, but all he can focus on is his own eyes, brave and proud. He looks different, not because of what's on his skin, but because of what's changing under it. By doing this, he's becoming a person who can do it, and that's fucking inspiring.

"I see you shiver with antici..." he sings quietly to his reflection, and pauses. Tilts forward. His breath fogs up the mirror a little, and he closes his mouth and breathes through his nose until it evaporates, leaving the glass clear and smooth. Gerard stretches his neck just a little and presses his lips against the mirror, quickly, suddenly.

For luck, he thinks, looking fondly into his own eyes.

Oh wow I love this fill! The way it speaks to his privacy and the way it isn't about how it looks but what it *means*. I could picture that moment where he leans in and dogs up the mirror SO PERFECTLY, nnnngh. Awesome!

Yay, glad you liked it!

Oh, lovely.

Thanks!

UNF. Have been needing this fic since that First Times interview.

NIIIIICE.

Thank you! I've seen people talking about this, obviously, but I hadn't seen anyone mention the part of the interview where he said he felt all Rocky Horror about it, and that was the part that made me squee the most. :)

How are you so awesome? This. I just. I love "The way they stand out lets him think the word "pretty" for the first time", and the self-acceptance in "For luck, he thinks, looking fondly into his own eyes" is so lovely. ♥______♥

I think maybe you and I should quit everything and spend our lives writing fic for each other. PLAN?

I liked this so much. It's such a lovely moment, Gerard so private and enjoying what he's doing.

I love the kiss especially ♥

Thank you!

........... pation!

This was awesome! :D

Can't take the heat, huh? XD thanks!

I like this a lot. :D

Glad you enjoyed!

That was lovely!

Thanks!

Gerard leans forward onto his elbows and stares into the mirror. He wants to look at the makeup, but all he can focus on is his own eyes, brave and proud. He looks different, not because of what's on his skin, but because of what's changing under it. By doing this, he's becoming a person who can do it, and that's fucking inspiring.

I love this to pieces and this bit is perfect. . .

Thank you!

Mmmmmmmmm yes :D

My favorite part about this ficlet is that I did not make up any of it. Our canon=the best canon.

He wants to look at the makeup, but all he can focus on is his own eyes, brave and proud. He looks different, not because of what's on his skin, but because of what's changing under it. By doing this, he's becoming a person who can do it, and that's fucking inspiring.

Loved that bit, so much. \o/

(http://s858.photobucket.com/albums/ab143/undeny/?action=view&current=mirror2.png)

OMG bb this is lovely! the curled lashes, the redredred lips, the intent expression, this is really beautiful work!

Thanks, bb! :D I'm glad you like it. :DDD

Oh, I love it! Did you see my fill before you drew this, or did you have the mirror idea independently?

I saw it when I went to post it, but not before. I had about the same idea! :D

That is so fantastic. I love the make up, especially his eye lashes and that bright red lipstick.

Thank you! :D

you knoooooow i love this. YEP, LOVE IT. <3 But especially his little nose!

Gerard's nose is difficult. One week I'm going to spend all my time drawing his nose until I get it RIGHT. >:(

Thank you, bb. ♥

This is beautiful! I love his serious, intent expression.

Thank you! :D

nights in the desert are lonely

Height differential

you know it's hot.

Something set in the present time.
Something desperate.
Please!

Brendon/Spencer, accidental kiss

I hope you'll like this. <3

***

The thing is, Brendon doesn't plan it. It's not planned at all, which is so not like how Brendon saw this going down. Ever. Brendon has, okay, he's thought a lot about this, how it could happen. In his mind, there's always this moment when something changes. Something magical and big, and then Spencer would be looking at Brendon and see and Brendon would be looking at Spencer, too, and let him see, and then they both would move and then they'd kiss. Or Spencer would let Brendon see, would let Brendon catch him checking Brendon out. Or something.

The point is there should be something. A huge big moment when everything changes. Not ... this, whatever this is. This is Brendon standing in the kitchen area, angling for a cup, and Spencer coming up behind Brendon quiet like a mouse. Spencer's reaching for the Poptarts, and then they're both turning and suddenly, somehow, Brendon's lips brush Spencer's mouth and his cheek. It doesn't even register at first, but then Ian whoops and Dallon catcalls. Spencer laughs nervously, and Brendon finds himself giggling.

"Morning, sweetiepea," Spencer says, "do you want a Poptart?"

"Yeah," Brendon says and that's it. They finish getting breakfast and then they watch Zoolander for what is probably the thousandth time and everything goes back to normal. For Spencer, at least because he behaves normally and seems to actually forget about it entirely.

Brendon wishes he could do that, but ... he can't stop thinking about it. It's just--that was their first kiss and it was an accident and nothing came of it and Brendon's really fucking disappointed. He's trying not to let it show. He doesn't think he's particularly successful at it.

The next hotel night Brendon ends up with Spencer. That would be clue 1 because Brendon is sure it's Ian's turn. He puts his bag on the hotel bed next to the window. "First shower," he says, tries to make a joke of it, but Brendon doesn't want to be alone in a room with Spencer right now. He's afraid everything would just come spilling out of him if Spencer looks at him the right way.

"Okay," Spencer says. "Ian mentioned this awesome bar he knows nearby, wanna come with later?"

Ian didn't mention that bar to Brendon. Even though Brendon had talked to Ian about going out later, and Ian had made vague noises about maybe staying in that night. It doesn't make Brendon feel any better.

"No, I guess I'll have an early night." Brendon fakes a smile. "I want to take advantage of having an actual bed with a frame for once."

"Sure," Spencer says. He seems a bit subdued.

"Hey, do you want to have first shower then?"

Spencer contemplates that. "If you don't mind." He's not looking at Brendon, and Brendon wants to kick himself. And Spencer. It's not Spencer's fault, but he's this weird kind of upset with Spencer for fucking up all of Brendon's perfect fantasies.

"No, just go ahead."

Spencer nods tersely. When he's closed the bathroom door behind himself, Brendon collapses on the bed and groans. For something that's technically something, their "kiss" has fucked them up good. Brendon thinks he just needs to get a grip on himself. He needs to put his head back on straight and move the fuck on. It obviously didn't mean anything to anyone but Brendon, so he should just let go. Yep. He's getting on that first thing after Spencer's gone.

By the time Spencer's finished Brendon's fallen asleep on his bed. He wakes up slowly to Spencer carefully shaking him. "Hey, I'm going," Spencer says. "If anything, if you, I have my cell phone with me, okay?"

Brendon nods. "Sure, but I'm fine," he says.

"Yeah." Spencer doesn't look like he's believing Brendon one bit. "I'll see you later."

"Later," Brendon says. The hotel room seems strangely empty after Spencer's gone. Right, moving on now.

Brendon makes full use of a bathroom all to himself. But even the hour he spends in there doesn't make him feel any better. When he comes out, he's still alone in the room. Brendon leans against the wall next to the bathroom door and sighs. He doesn't want to make a thing of "it". He doesn't want everyone to give him a wide berth, to make Zack and Spencer and everyone worry. It's stupid to be sad for something that kind of didn't happen at all. It's really fucking stupid to be sad that not one of his fantasies will ever become real. It's not like that's news--Brendon is and was aware that Spencer doesn't think of Brendon like that. Brendon would've noticed if that was the case. What he thinks he's seen in sideways glances and stuff is just what Brendon wants to see.

Brendon crawls into bed just because. He doesn't want to get dressed up and join his friends at the bar. He doesn't want to sit there and smile and try not to be awkward and weird. Awkward and weird currently seems to be Brendon's default setting. He curls up on himself and wills himself to sleep. He doesn't want to think about any of this anymore.

He's pretty tired, but he's also wide awake, and sleep won't come. He can't stop thinking of the million situations he planned out in his mind. Like, there's never going to be a passionate on-stage first kiss. As far as Brendon's fantasies go, that one was pretty far-fetched, but it was fun. Spencer's also never going to grab Brendon around his hips after they've come back surfing, throw him on their beach towel and wrestle. He's never going to end up on top of Brendon and pause, looking at Brendon's lips. He's never going to lean in and kiss Brendon for the first time like that.

It just hurts more than it should.

When Spencer comes back, Brendon's still awake. He doesn't speak up, though. Spencer slips into the bathroom and Brendon can dimly make out the noises of his nightly routine.

Brendon turns his face into the pillow. He's still stupid and still sad and he can't stop. He wills himself to sleep, but it's never that easy.

Spencer closes the bathroom door quietly, but when he stands between their beds, he stops. "Brendon?" His voice is gentle and quiet, and he doesn't sound one bit drunk, which is weird since he just spent like three hours in a bar.

Brendon's really, really silent. He doesn't see the flaw in his plan until Spencer sits down on the edge of his bed and sighs loudly. "You mumble in your sleep," Spencer says. "And you snore every once in a while and sometimes you grunt and you're fidgeting even in your sleep. B, I know you're awake because you're only ever this quiet on purpose."

Brendon's torn between laughing and crying. He really doesn't want to Spencer right now. Thankfully Spencer seems comfortable to take over the talking part.

"Everything all right?" Spencer's got this carefully neutral and soft tone, the one he always used with Ryan, and Brendon doesn't want to be like Ryan.

"Yeah," Brendon forces himself to say. "Everything's good." He tries to tell Spencer telepathetically to let it go. Spencer doesn't seem to respond to telepathy, though.

"Because you've been weird recently. Withdrawn." Spencer rubs Brendon's arm. "You know you can come and talk to me at any time, right?"

Brendon nods, not caring whether Spencer can see him in the dark.

Spencer sighs really loudly. "Brendon, I--" Then he sighs again and crawls under the covers. Brendon's covers.

"What?" Brendon is surprised enough that he makes place for Spencer. "I thought the bed-sharing stopped, when we could afford big enough hotel rooms."

"Bed-sharing is always on when one of us is being stupid," Spencer tells him. He wraps his arm around Brendon's middle, pulls him close and settles down. "And now spill."

"What happened to you can come talk to me at any time? Maybe now's not the time."

Spencer snorts. His breath is brushing Brendon's nape and Brendon can't suppress a shiver. "That was me telling you subtly to open up. Since it didn't work, I'll have to force you to talk to me."

"That's not good for my mental health," Brendon tries hesitantly. "I could get a trauma and never talk again."

"You know what's not good for my mental health?" Spencer leans up on one elbow and towers over Brendon. "When the other half of my band suddenly is acting out. Doesn't talk to me or our so-called temporary tour musicians or our bodyguard. Because then I have to think about what happened when my former two band members stopped talking to me."

"I'm not leaving," Brendon says.

"Then what's going on?" Spencer sounds honestly confused and that hurts, and Brendon hates himself because it hurts. Spencer's confused because according to him nothing happened. And Brendon's driving himself crazy and he's fucking everything up over something that Spencer probably can't even remember.

"Nothing," Brendon says quietly. "Just tired."

"Brendon ..." Spencer sinks back against the pillows. He's quiet for long enough that Brendon thinks he's fallen asleep. He's still holding on to Brendon, though, his fingers warm against Brendon's belly. Brendon closes his eyes. It feels much too intimate, even for his best friend, and he wonders whether he shouldn't have worn a shirt to bed. Spencer's fingers are relaxed and Brendon can't stop himself from reaching out and gently wrapping his hand around Spencer's fingers, mimicking holding hands. Spencer tightens his fingers, pulling Brendon tightly against himself, and it feels good. It feels so fucking good.

Right until Spencer speaks up and Brendon realises he's awake. "B?"

Brendon swallows heavily. Spencer's holding on to him firmly, so Brendon would have to use force to break free. But it's Spencer and Brendon doesn't want to. Suddenly he feels exhausted and does what he really didn't want to do--he talks.

"Did you ever," Brendon starts, only he has to swallow several times before he can continue, "have you ever considered that we, well, the two of us, that we could ... be something different?"

"Brendon," Spencer whispers quietly.

"It's not, I don't, I didn't want it to be awkward," Brendon says. "It's just. Weird. Now that it's happened and it didn't go the way I thought it would and now that's done and over with and nothing will ever be like I imagined it and ... it sucks."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Spencer switches on the bedside lamp and he turns Brendon onto his back. Brendon can feel himself blushing, as he finds himself face to face with a wry smiling Spencer. "What happened?"

"Well," Brendon starts. "We, uh, kissed and--"

"When?" Spencer looks startled. "'Cause I'd've remembered that."

"Last week," Brendon says, "you know when--"

Spencer puts his hand over Brendon's mouth. "That wasn't a kiss," he says. "That was us stumbling around half-awake in the kitchen."

It feels like a blow to Brendon. "Yeah," he says. He tries to turn around again, away from Spencer.

"Hey." Spencer doesn't let Brendon move. Spencer looks serious now. "Brendon ... that was a kiss for you?"

Brendon's never felt this humiliated before, he's sure. Not even when Tommy Johnson stuffed him into his locker or when the quarterback made Brendon stumble and drop his lunch all over his white shirt. "No," he says. "It wasn't." It's safer to go with what Spencer thinks.

"Bren," Spencer says quietly. He's quiet for a moment, and Brendon feels his stomach twist anxiously. He feels bared, laid out in the open, and he can't read Spencer at all. What Spencer does next, surprises him.

Spencer leans in, slowly and carefully, and then he gently brushes his lips against Brendon's. The movement is deliberate and precise, and it's painfully sweet. Spencer doesn't push for anything more, but he lets the moment drag on. When he straightens up again, he's smiling.

"What was that?" Brendon hardly recognises his own voice, so small and quiet.

"That," Spencer says, "was our first kiss."

"But-"

Spencer presses his index finger against Brendon's lips. "Accidental kisses don't count," he says. "We get to choose what our first kiss is."

"So now you think it was a kiss, too," is probably not the best response to that, but it's what Brendon says.

Spencer sighs, but he's still grinning. "I know when it's better to cater to your delusions."

"Hey!" Brendon pouts, but it's difficult, because Spencer kissed him. Entirely on purpose. Brendon has to adjust his worldview a little.

"And, yes, by the way."

"Yes, what?" Brendon has no idea what Spencer's currently agreeing with.

"I've thought about us." Spencer looks at Brendon's cover.

"Oh." Brendon swallows heavily. "So ..."

Spencer nods. "Yep."

"Okay." Brendon's usually a much better conversationalist, but his mind is currently blown away. It's hard to think when he can still feel the ghost of Spencer's lips on his own.

"I guess I should go to bed then," Spencer says, but he's grinning. "Unless, you know, our kiss was void."

"Void," Brendon repeats.

"Yes, void." Spencer nods. "Because you were unprepared. A first kiss only counts when both parties are fully aware and participating."

"Is that so." Brendon finds himself grinning. "In that case, you surprised. By the time I was ready to participate, it was already over."

"It doesn't count then."

Brendon reaches for Spencer, and Spencer lets Brendon pull him down. "Hi," he says when he's lying next to Brendon.

"Hi," Brendon says.

"Ready to go?" Spencer asks with his eyes twinkling.

Brendon giggles. "Always."

This kiss doesn't stay superficial and sweet. It's hot and dirty. Brendon's kissing Spencer with all he's got, and Spencer gives as good as he can take. Spencer's put his hand on Brendon's neck, fingers slowly stroking the sensitive skin behind Brendon's ear. Brendon's grabbing Spencer's hair with both hands, keeping him close to Brendon.

By the time they have to break for air, they're both panting and Brendon's so hard he can't stop squirming.

"Fuck," Spencer says, as he drops his head and touches his forehead to Brendon's. "Fuck."

"That kiss counts, right?" Brendon can't stop himself from asking.

"It's kind of hard to ignore it, so yeah."

Brendon has to giggle at hard.

"Wow, you've never really grown up," Spencer says, but he's grinning, too.

"That was one awesome first kiss," Brendon says. "Thank you."

Spencer keeps grinning. "You know what's good, too?"

Brendon shakes his head.

Spencer whispers into Brendon's ear. "Second kisses."

Brendon laughs and when Spencer comes in for the next kiss, he willingly opens up. It turns out that second kisses are awesome, too. As are third kisses. And fourth and fifth ones. Brendon thinks it might be more a Spencer kisses are awesome thing, but he doesn't mind.

"That better than what you imagined?" Spencer asks later when their mouths are swollen and they're lying side by side, still hard and aroused like hell.

"What?"

Spencer laughs. "You said you'd imagined how it would go. How did I do?"

"That is the most stupid question," Brendon says. He pulls himself up and lies down on top of Spencer. Their erections brush and Brendon can't help himself, he thrusts once against Spencer. "You fucking blew the curve," Brendon tells him.

"I'm glad," Spencer says between pants. His hands are firmly on Brendon's hips, keeping him in place. "That I didn't disappoint you."

"And now?"

Spencer grins. "We'll figure it out." He flips them over, and Brendon giggles. And then they do figure it out.

<333333!!!! oh man I was so worried, because #1 came to my mailbox but not the others, I was like NOOOOOoooOOooOooOOO! Fearful that it wouldn't be resolved. Awww Brendon, you angst like a pro! This was awesome, seriously. That thought-it-was-something-but-doesn't-go-anywhere is the worst, so GO SPENCER for fixing that.

*giggles at "hard"*

Yay, I'm glad you like it! And trust me, I'm a HEA person, I always resolve the angst. ;)

N'awww - that's super adorable!

Thank you! :D

Oh wow, that was so lovely.

I liked how uncertain Brendon was, and how Spencer was worried too -- the other half of the band stopping talking to him, my heart -- but the end was just beautiful.

Thank you, darling! <3333333

Brendon/Spencer, competitive kissing

Brendon/Spencer, pretend (or imaginary) kisses

Spencer sort of lived for the moments where Brendon would push close, those moments when Brendon took over his space and leaned in until Spencer felt the body heat radiating. In those moments, they always shared breath for a few seconds, long enough to have Spencer swaying closer as Brendon’s hands came up. Brendon always, always slid a hand into Spencer’s hair while Spencer gripped Brendon’s hip. Each time, Spencer held on a little tighter, his grasp a little too telling. Then, every fucking time, Brendon’s hand always came up, his sweaty fingers covering Spencer’s lips so Brendon kissed the back of his own hand in the type of stage kiss any drama kid would envy.

They had it down to a science, a party trick they’d picked up in high school to get the attention of girls who liked that whole emo boys kissing scene for some reason. Now they only brought it out at random to get a rise out of people. Mostly, it just drove Spencer crazy.

Dallon was laughing, saying something that sounded like a dare; Spencer was a little too drunk to actually parse out the words. Ian was egging Dallon on because that’s just what Ian did, nothing to be concerned about. Then Brendon slid onto Spencer’s lap, knees bracketing Spencer’s thighs.

Brendon was heavier than usual, not holding himself as far away. He settled and Spencer gazed up at him when Brendon’s hand slipped into his hair. Spencer liked Brendon like this: flushed and content, a little fuzzy around the edges.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, proud he only slurred a tiny bit.

“Kissing you,” Brendon nodded, decisive.

“Liar,” Spencer whispered. His arms were somehow around Brendon, pulling their bodies even closer together. “You never do.”

“I do all the time,” he promised but Spencer just shook his head.

When Brendon’s other hand came up to stroke along his jawline, Spencer let his eye close. He went with the feeling. The warm puffs of breath against his lips, the way Brendon smelled of deodorant and faintly sweat. Brendon’s hand moved, closer to Spencer’s lips and Spencer reached for his elbow, not really holding him back but not really encouraging.

When there was finally a pressure against his lips, Spencer wasn’t very coherent. He couldn’t work out if it was Brendon’s fingers, like always, or his lips, like Spencer wanted. It was easier to go with whichever answer was most convenient.

ooossssss angsty but still awesome

short but punchy in all of it's glory. So rocking man

<3 *hug spins you*

I had to write something angsty this week! You know how it is ;)

*clings* Thanks, bb!

eeeee, <3!!! I love the ambiguity at the end, and their goofy lil teenage selves in the beginning. :D :D :D

:) Thanks! Glad you liked it! The prompt just screamed "ambiguous!!!!" to me.

I'm really liking the ending to this. The ambiguity works so well, and the whole things feels just that little off balance. Something I think works nicely with the way Spencer's thinking and feeling.

Thank you! The ending was my favorite part. It was the image that made me want to REALLY fill it. :) I'm glad it worked, even though it's so short.

Oh, poor Spencer! I really like how much you packed into a relatively short ficlet. . .

Thanks! I sort of have a feeling this is going to turn into an outtake from a full fledged fic for hc_bingo.

In favor!

I adore this. <3

Gabe/Pete, sleeping beauty kiss

Dan Whitesides/rest of the used, hazing kisses

Unsurprisingly, Bert gets to him first.

Dan knew that touring with this band was going to be a giant mindfuck of awesomegrossdrummingweirdamazing but the whole...hazing thing, because really, that's all he can call it, is bizarre, mildly disgusting, and...well, kind of awesome. Pretty much everything he came to expect with the Used.

---

With Bert's, he hadn't known. It had just seemed like the kind of thing Bert McCracken would do. Which, you know, it really was. So, the flying tackle outside their (and Dan finds the fact that he can refer to it as part of something his, undeniably awesome) tour bus which had resulted in Dan flat on his ass with Bert's giant fucking tongue in his mouth wasn't really that unexpected.

"HI!" Bert screams in his face, once he disengages from Dan with a slobbery popping noise.

"Good to see you too," Dan laughs and pushes Bert off of him, the latter still giggling like a loon. He eyes Quinn and Jepha warily. Quinn grins at him, wincing when the Bert monkey clambers up his back with a stray knee in his ribs. Jepha just smiles quietly, watching it all with an air of amusement and resignation.

So, Bert's was, for all purposes, rather normal.

---

Quinn's was a sneak attack right before a show. They had been about week in the tour, still high on the moving and playing and fans. Dan had been warming up, running through rudiments and basic beats, combinations to get his wrists moving.

"Hey," Quinn sidled up beside him, guitar already strapped on, forming random chords on the muted strings. The entire green room stank of something burned and metal after Bert had "experimented" with the microwave that Dan was almost positive the venue was never offering artists again.

"S'happening, Quinnilius?" Dan grinned at him, big and goofy and excited, adrenaline working up in his veins, ready to just go and hit something.

Which nearly happened when dry lips pressed up against his grin and he early lost one of his sticks in surprise. Quinn was gone in a flash, over on the other side of the room before Dan could breathe in properly, laughing with a wayward tech. Dan shook his head and reaffirmed his grip on the sticks and went right on warming up.

---

So, he had figured it out. There was a hazing thing happening. Except instead of creepy boys in prep schools beating each other with soap bars in socks, Dan was instead assaulted with his bands' mouths. Which you know, there were definitely worse things. Especially considering Jepha had yet to go, and Dan had maybe been wondering what his labrets might feel like.

---

Jepha eventually caught him in the bunks. Not exactly, in bunk, which, you know, Dan totally had not been thinking about since the one show where Quinn insisted Jepha prance around stage shirtless. Anyway, he was in the hall between the bunks when he was "caught". (Or laying ambush. He likes to keep his stories interesting.)

"Jepharee-mo-dee!" Dan exclaimed, when he wandered in, "Are you going to molest me?"

Jepha laughed at Dan's faux-concerned face, then adopted a thoughtful look, "Depends, are you going to report me?"

"ALWAYS REPORT MOLESTATIONS DAN!" Bert's voice filtered in from the lounge area.

"That's not what you told me dickwad!" Quinn exclaims before the distinct sound of Bert tackling Quinn to the ground follows.

Jepha's all out giggling know, his labrets wonky from smiling too hard, and Dan can't help leaning down for a taste. Jepha's kiss is sweet, almost chaste, and Dan cups a hand around his jaw to keep him there, eliciting a shiver from Jepha.

"I HEAR KISSING!" Bert yells, "WELCOME TO THE BAND DAN!"

\o/ YAY! This was awesome and I am filing it into my mental file of Used canon. Love the chaos. <3!

Eee, I'm glad you liked it! (Mental canon? *flattered*) Chaos pretty much is this band. In an awesome way. I love them so, they need more fic (:

Patrick/Vicky-t kisses? Because that would be awesome. Goofy happy kisses.

Any kind of kissing, but I'd like it post-split. Is it angsty, or better now there's no band strain to go with it?

Ryan didn't mean for this to happen. It was just supposed to be a couple of hours, maybe some booze, but he hadn't thought about tasting the cool beer on Brendon's tongue when he had come over.

At least, that's what Ryan pants as he breaks away from Brendon's mouth - that mouth that is so familiar that it almost aches that it's been years since he had last had Brendon like this. Brendon's eyes are blown and wide, his hair is already messy from Ryan's long fingers, and fuck, maybe Ryan did have this in mind when Brendon had called. Maybe he's been wanting this since it last happened.

He doesn't know why they ever stopped this.

Ryan kisses Brendon again, presses him down on the couch that Ryan's never seen in a living room that he's never been in before. So much has changed, but this hasn't. Brendon still arches up into Ryan as they kiss. He still kisses that much hungrier when Ryan tugs on his hair. He still feels like the he's the only thing that has ever made sense.

And it's terrifying, knowing that this could be it - that heated kisses on a stupid expensive-ass couch could be the last time that Ryan ever gets to touch Brendon. Ever gets to see him.

Ryan could fuck this up. It's likely that he will. He knows that they should talk about this, figure it out together, but Ryan's always been selfish, so he doesn't say anything. And he only pulls back far enough to get his hands down between them, fingers playing at the button to Brendon's jeans.

Oh, Ryan. I love you but this is not a good thing to do.

This is painful to read, and yet it feels true, and I'm willing things to work out between them.

Excellent job.

Maybe they live happily ever after!
I'm kinda liking this - I may continue :D

my hearteyes let me show you them \o/

♥__♥

Although this has made me want to read a million more words

:D I love your hearteyes!
And I just may maybe write more of this. maybe. possibly.

*Oh* - this is so bittersweet, but I love it. . .

Thanks!

guh. This is so angstyhot. I want them to be okay, though. :)

We must have faith that one day they will realize they BELONG TOGETHER!

Summer tour, sitting out in the parking lot somewhere at night, smoking and talking and kissing of course!

It's almost pitch black and the song of the cicadas is the only thing they can hear. It's still hot but there is a breeze blowing through the parking lot, cooling off the sweat on their skin and making Frank shiver.

He lights up a cigarette and passes his lighter to Gerard, brushing his knuckles over Gerard's fingers in the process.

There are a few fireflies swirling around their heads, buzzing and flickering in the air and it feels just like being home.

It's not home though. They're in Kansas tonight and they'll even further away from home tomorrow.

Frank leans back against the side of the van and watches the fireflies as they dance around the cigarette smoke.

They've put a lot of miles in the van but the old piece of junk is still running. It's not the most comfortable thing to sleep in but Frank is getting used to it and he can't really complain. He's doing what he loves with the people he loves.

"Mikey said I should stop tip toeing around you," Gerard announces as he shoves the lighter back in the pocket of Frank's hoodie.

"About what?" Frank asks, because what the fuck are they even talking about now? They were discussing Spiderman and how he would do against the Green Lantern not two minutes ago, and Frank is confused as hell right now.

Gerard's fingers twitches as he takes another drag on his cigarette. He crooks his mouth and blows the smoke upwards.

"Gee. What is it about? Is it because I called Spiderman a pussy?"

Gerard shakes his head and smiles, lopsided and a little red in the face.

"What is it then? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

Now Frank is a little worried. Maybe they want to ditch him. Maybe they came to their sense and decided he wasn't good enough to be in the band.

"You know I like you, right?" Gerard finally asks as he starts staring into Frank's eyes, all intent and weird.

Frank doesn't like the sound of that. His last girlfriend said the exact same thing before dumping his ass. "I guess."

"Hmm. This isn't as easy as Mikey made it sound," Gerard mumbles to himself.

Fucking Mikey. Frank would never thought he could be such a fucking jerk. Of course, booting him off the band isn't going to be easy. He's in his favorite band, for fuck's sake.

"Listen, man," Franks says, inching towards Gerard and stomping on his half smoked cigarette, "if you're going to do it, do it now and quick, and don't let --"

Gerard interrupts him by snaking an arm around Frank's waist and pulling him close. Then he's pressing their mouth together and Frank's brain finally catches up with the program.

"You like me," he mutters when Gerard breaks the kiss.

It's not like there weren't signs. Frank discarded most of them as Gerard being Gerard.

They can do some really fucked up shit when they're drunk, mostly giving each other messy handjobs in the back of the van or making out on stage to get the crowd riled up. There's no such thing as personal space when you're touring in a little box. Sleeping all over each other and dry humping each other to get rid of the morning wood didn't seem like such a big deal.

But maybe it was.

"Now and quick," Gerard breathes out. He lets go of Frank and takes another deep drag in his cigarette, leaning back against the van like nothing happened.

"You just kissed me."

"Do you want another smoke?" Gerard asks, ignoring Frank and the fact that they fucking kissed in the middle of a deserted IHOP parking lot.

"You fucking kissed me, you dickwad."

Frank isn't pissed off because Gerard kissed him. He's pissed off because Gerard didn't even give him a chance to get into it and pulled away when it was just getting good.

"Mikey said you wouldn't mind. He said you were into me too," Gerard says, his eyes wide and his shoulders dropping. He waves his hands in front of him and ducks his head. "I'm sorry if I...It's just that...Everything we did. It matters to me. I know it might not look--"

It's Frank's turn to interrupt him. He cups Gerard's face in his hands and licks Gerard's lips open.

Frank kisses Gerard until he can't feel his legs anymore, until they're both panting and Gerard's cigarette is down to its filter. He doesn't pull away for the longest time and licks the inside of Gerard's mouth slow and lazy because they have all the fucking time in the world.

His fingers trail off Gerard's face and down to his neck. Frank wants to be under Gerard's skin. He wants to rip out their clothes and let the breeze kiss their naked skin.

But since they're in a public place and being naked isn't an option, Frank just lets his fingers wander underneath Gerard's t-shirt, circling around his stomach.

When he opens his eyes, the darkness has settled in and the only thing Frank can see is Gerard's upturned nose and his spit slick lips, parting again for another kiss.

Behind them, the cicadas are still singing, and it's like they're the soundtrack of this summer night. The soundtrack of this kiss.

THIS IS SO GOOD! i love the whole atmosphere and the summery feeling it has! and yay for gerard taking the bull by the horns and just going for it! :DDDDD thank youuuuu so much!

Yay! Glad you liked it!
You're very welcome. Thank you for the prompt :)

I love that you set this early days. The whole feel is just right, and Gerard just going for it, even if he thinks it's not working at first.

And poor Frank, so determined he's not going to be thrown from the band.

I liked this a lot ♥

I have a soft spot for early days fic.

♥ Thank you.

That was so warm and happymaking. I love the summery atmosphere.

:D Thank you.

Wow - this is so sweet and the atmosphere is beautifully written.

Thank you :)

You know, it's funny. Because I loathe summer, but the summer you've written here is one that's, like, out of a dream or fairy tale. I loved the mellow vibe, the geekiness and how both of them were a little failboat-y because of assumptions. *pets the boys*

My favourite quote:

"Mikey said I should stop tip toeing around you," Gerard announces as he shoves the lighter back in the pocket of Frank's hoodie.

"About what?" Frank asks, because what the fuck are they even talking about now? They were discussing Spiderman and how he would do against the Green Lantern not two minutes ago, and Frank is confused as hell right now.

Gerard's fingers twitches as he takes another drag on his cigarette. He crooks his mouth and blows the smoke upwards.

"Gee. What is it about? Is it because I called Spiderman a pussy?"

OH, BOYS! ♥

Awww Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed this. I love those boys and their ~failboatiness LOL

♥

♥!

This is fabulous, bb! Failboats in love (always my favorite)! I love Frank wants to be under Gerard's skin. and how you bring the cicadas back at the end. Really awesome details. <333

:D Thank you! I am a sucker for details.

What a fantastic idea - and it's brilliant how it's taken off so quickly.

Gerard/Frank 'been married for years' every day kissing

If Gerard had thought about it at all, he’d have guessed he’d be dead by now. Ten years is a long damn time to be on the run, and he never expected his luck to hold out this long. But, whatever, whenever, he always knew he and Frank would be together, right up to the end. And ten years on, here they are, still running, taking stupid chances when they have to and keeping each other safe when they can.

Ten years ago it was stolen moments in the alley behind the club on the perimeter of the city, desperate, sloppy kisses and Gerard’s back against the rough brick wall while they jerked each other off. Always the fear that they’d missed a camera, that an unusually diligent patrol might sweep them up. Never enough time, too risky to do more than shove their hands in each others’ pants and kiss and kiss like it might be their last chance (because it could always be their last chance, and that’s one thing that hasn’t changed).

But they got out and they got Mikey and Ray out too. And there’s still never enough time, never enough privacy, but there’s the possibility, slim but real, of stripping Frank’s clothes off, of tasting each of his tattoos and remembering when each one was new, of sucking Frank’s cock and using every trick Gerard’s learned to make him shiver and curse and beg, of fucking Frank slow and sweet in the slanting afternoon light.

Those times are too few and too far between, but Gerard and Frank fill the intervals with a thousand casual touches, each one a reminder of everything that they have (everything that they have to lose): Gerard’s hand sliding up the back of Frank’s t-shirt as they share a cup of muddy instant coffee, Frank grabbing Gerard’s arm before a mission to brush his lips against the rosary Gerard wears wound around his wrist, Gerard leaning his head against Frank’s as they pass a cigarette back and forth and watch the sun set across the desert. They usually crash into sleep without even a perfunctory goodnight kiss, but they curl together in the night, and sometimes they rub off against each other, sighing and moaning into each other’s mouths in a futile attempt at discretion.

It could never be enough, but it’s so much more than Gerard ever hoped for, when he was stuck in that dreary little cubicle, living for Friday night and those too few hours with Frank, dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him in the sunlight. This is enough, because it has to be enough, because it damn well may be all that they ever get.

This is enough, because it has to be enough - I loved this, all the little stolen moments that mean so much to them. Beautiful characterization and wonderful turns of phrase!

Thank you so much - I'm really glad you liked it and I appreciate the feedback!

This is so good.

I really like how they're so aware that they can only have so much, and due to that make the best of what the have. I also love how committed they are, like sense where when you've been with someone forever every moment isn't a firework, because it doesn't have to be.

Thank you! I'm not sure the desperation of it is entirely in keeping with the prompt, but I liked the idea of underlying the frantic, grab-what-you-can vibe with that sense of stability and trust built over years. . .

This is so sweet and poignant and lovely! It's both heartbreaking and heartwarming and I love the way you show us all their history together through a few chosen glimpses.

Thank you! I'm so glad you liked it. . .

Am so excited this prompt got filled! And by such an amazing ficlet. It's really intense and I could visualise the scene so vividly. Thank you :-)

Whew! I'm really glad you liked this, because I wasn't sure if it was really what you were looking for. . .Thank you for an inspiring prompt and for the feedback!

So beautiful, sad and real at the same time. Love it.

Thank you! I'm really glad you liked this. I really enjoyed writing in the Killjoys-verse. . .

This is gorgeous and really packs a punch in a few words. Seriously wonderful.

Thank you! I really appreciate the kind words and encouragement. . .(I'm just dipping my toes into writing bandom fic and it's always a little nerve wracking writing a new-to-me fandom. . .)

This little fic is awesome ♥

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it and I appreciate you taking the time to comment. :)

Gerard/Mikey, "But Luke and Leia did it in The Empire Strikes Back."

(warning: underage, unbetaed)
"Gee?" Mikey was biting his lips, then licking them, then rubbing his face on his shirtsleeve and starting the process all over again. It was very distracting. "Gee."

"Hmm? Sorry." Gerard put down his marker, shook his head, then tried to focus on what his little brother had just asked him. About kissing. French kissing. Hell. Gerard was going to hell.

"Well? What's it like? How do you do it?" Mikey blushed, waiting and then getting impatient again before Gerard could manage to say anything. "Do you just, like, stick your tongue in her mouth or what?"

"It's. It's kinda wet? In a good way? And no, you don't just stick your tongue in, you gotta see if her mouth's open, and then, kinda. Try. But just a little, until you know." Gerard could feel his face heating up too, but rolled his eyes at the situation and himself. Shittiest big brother ever. "It's hard to describe."

"So show me." Mikey sounded strangely confident.

Gerard tried to think of a way, any method beyond what his hormones were screaming at him that his brother meant and was obviously the correct choice. He failed abysmally. He capped his marker and closed his sketchpad on the desk. "Um, I think I'd have to, like, show you-show you."

Mikey stepped forward, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Okay."

"Mikey. You're my brother." Because stating the obvious helps everything, Gerard thought. Or at least maybe it'd help kill the chub building in his jeans. No luck on that score, either.

"Yeah. But Luke and Leia did it in The Empire Strikes Back." Mikey pointed out.

"And then Leia hooks up with Han who gets frozen in carbonite and Luke got his hand cut off and Leia winds up looking like a hooker by a Sarlacc pit." Thank god. This was totally a conversational gambit Gerard could handle.

"But first Luke looks really smug. And it doesn't injure their relationship; their psychic connection is fine enough to rescue Luke at the end of the movie."

"That's true, but they don't even know they're related at that point!"

"And acting like they weren't didn't do any damage for when they found out they were." Mikey grinned triumphantly.

"Fine." Gerard scowled, swivelling in his drafting chair. Mikey was taller from him at this angle, which meant it'd be closer to what kissing a girl would be like, he reasoned, and was immediately proud of thinking something besides ohgod oh god ohgod kissing Mikey shit ohgod. "Come here."

Mikey obediently shuffled over, still grinning a little.

"Um. Try to keep your jaw loose but your mouth mostly closed. You pay attention to what I do, and then you try." Going to hell, going to hell, going to hell, Gerard's brain chanted, sounding fairly excited about the trip. Mikey leaned over. His lips were already swollen pink from all the biting. Gerard tilted up his head, touched lips with Mikey, and slid his tongue gently between them before withdrawing. Mikey gasped, opening his mouth a bit wider, and Gerard took it, letting himself lick into Mikey's mouth before pulling back again.

Gerard swallowed. Mikey looked thoughtful.

"Okay?" Gerard asked.

Mikey shook his head in response. "I don't know if I can do that. Show me again, and then I'll try?"

Gerard nodded, and Mikey leaned again. They repeated the process, and Gerard explored Mikey's mouth with his tongue a little more this time. Mikey licked back cautiously with the tip of his tongue, and then this time, it was Mikey who pulled away, swallowing.

"Right. I think I can do that." Gerard tilted up his head again, and Mikey kissed him like a pro.

"Perfect," Gerard said, trying to sound calm.

"Yeah, but what if she wants me to be more aggressive?" Mikey was a very dilligent student, and he looked like he had about three hundred more questions on the subject.

It was a long afternoon.

The Star Wars talk, way to talk Gerard around Mikey, and I see he's a quick study too *g*

Lovely fill.

Aww, crud, I forgot a title. /o\ Sorry! (That's what comes from writing in the middle of the night and posting first thing in the morning, I suppose.)

No worries, to be honest I forgot for some of my fills too.

If you want I can add one to the masterlist for you <3

Oooh, that'd be awesome...! Would you call it "Luke and Leia"? ♥ I appreciate it. XD

No worries at all. I'm off to do it now :)

That was so cute! The Star Wars discussion is just so right for them.

*biggrin* Isn't it?

Glad you liked! 8D

Thank you! This was lovely! Especially the extended discussion on the long-term effects of Luke and Leia's kiss.

Oh, I'm so glad you liked it! (and weren't creeped out by the underaged-ness of it all - I was gonna put in something about Mikey going back to school and turning sixteen in September but then I forgot and posted and was like, 'crap,

halfeatenmoon is gonna think I wrote him, like, twelve or something, hope I don't cause squick...')

And that line you gave in your prompt was SO PERFECT, OMG, I wrote this in like fifteen minutes. Because it'd totally go like that! Logic or emotional blackmail, so not the Ways' style. Scifi rhetoric, on the other hand... ♥

Not at all! When I wrote the prompt I did think it suited underage Ways rather than older ones, and underage doesn't bother me when it's just kissing anyway. (Though there is also something amusing about the idea of adult Ways getting rid of any guilt about incesty feelings by referring to Luke and Leia.) But yes, it's the best of Way logic. "Hmmm, I'm not sure whether what I want to do is normal or weird. Has it ever happened in sci fi or a comic book? That will tell me what to do!"

YES THAT EXACTLY! Way logic high-five! O/\O

THIS is why you are my FAVORITE!

*makes flaily hands of flail*

*flails back at you* ♥Ways♥

Frank loves kissing in the shower, but he also loves doing it after, while they're still wrapped in towels and drying each other off.

If there is a kiss that is better than kissing in the rain, it's in the shower. Frank adores kissing Gerard in the shower, when he pushes his boyfriend against the tiled wall and presses their naked bodies together, along with their lips. He loves the feel of their wet lips sliding against one another, the droplets of water dripping down from the spray of the shower.

If there's one thing Frank loves more than kissing Gerard in the shower, it's wrapping each other in a fluffy, large towel as they shuffle in to their bedroom, lying on the bed with their towels covering their middles, slowly trying off. He loves it when Gerard slowly starts to move his towel from his middle and dries parts of him off, rubbing the material in soft circular motions until he's completely dry, body smooth and clean against the cool sheets.

Meeeeeep ♥!
xo

This is ridiculously hot then adorable. Especially them lying drying off on cool sheets.

OK, so this awesome to imagine (Frank and Gee making out in the shower will never NOT be hotness). But when you threw in how Gerard was, basically pampering/taking care of Frank...

Many happy sighs. :)

Living like kings

His brain is still buzzing from the paparazzi and the lights, the cameras and microphones and crowds of people. There are parties all around him, and people waiting to see him, and it feels fucking awesome, because he’s riding a upswing and he only needs a net if he has a plan to fall.

“Gabanti. Gab-fucking-banti.” He slings an arm around Gabe’s shoulder, tugging him down closer to his own height to do it. Gabe goes easily, because that’s what they do. They’re best friends, fucking BFFs, riding the high life and owning the night. “We’re fucking rock stars, man.”

“No shit,” Gabe agrees, looping his arm around Pete’s waist and lifting him off the ground. Gabe’s thin and wiry, all sleek muscle. Pete’s compact and solid, but that doesn’t mean Gabe can’t make him feel like he’s flying. “Prime vodka. All the Red Bull we can drink. Hot and dirty boys and girls. People want to do us.”

“Fuck that. People want to be us.” Pete bounces on the balls of his feet then launches himself up, wrapping his legs around Gabe and hugging him tight, giving him a solid kiss on the lips. Gabe laughs and takes a few steps back, bumping into Jay-Z’s table and they both offer fawning and ridiculous apologies to Jay and Beyonce and everyone pausing to worship at their table. “Okay, they’re rock stars.”

“We’re angels and kings,” Gabe intones, still carrying Pete around. He finds a table and sits down, Pete straddling his lap now, bouncing slightly.

“The walrus fucking said, man.” Pete hugs him tight and kisses him, impulse overriding inhibition. This is the kind of party where cameras disappear until you walk out the door, the kind of party Pete still doesn’t believe he gets to attend. “This is it, duder.”

Gabe nods and pulls Pete close, hugging him until it’s hard to breathe the rarified air. “Fuck that, man. This is only the beginning.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ BEST BROS.

Pete wants all the piggyback rides from Gabe as they go off into the sunset together. ♥

Their relationship *___*

I love Gabe making Pete feel like he's flying.

They are so BFF. I LOVE THEM.

N'awwww - that's adorable. . .

♥ best bros ever ♥

Awwwww, bros. ♥

BEST BROS.

wanted you first

It’s the fourth album that does it. The mix of music and passion that comes out of just the three of them, the tenacity that lasted them through Mike and AJ and Tom and Andy and Michael. Whatever it is, the album takes off, crossing over in more markets than Pete knew existed, topping charts and making them actual names in the business. It’s strange, since none of the other DecayDance bands are up there, out there. Even Cobra’s running a distant second.

Pete doesn’t know how to deal with it, really. He feels like he did when Bronx was born, proud enough to burst and scared to death all at once. Beckett’s been his since the beginning, the reason he’s done so much of what he did. He wants him to succeed, wants him to triumph. He just wishes…

Well, he wishes that he didn’t feel like he wasn’t a part of it anymore

It’s stupid to feel that way, he knows. He’s here at the party. Hell, he’s on the VIP list. He’s here to see and be seen, the elder fucking statesman of the hipster scene. The Academy is where he’s always seen them – at the top, name in lights, fucking headliners in bigger venues, people talking about them, radio stations playing them. This is what they want. This is what he wants for them.

“It is a party, you know.” He recognizes William’s stupid, nasally, Chicago voice without even trying. “You could pretend to be happy.”

“I’m happy.”

“You look like you’re constipated.”

“Maybe I am.” He sighs and rolls his neck and turns around, looking up. William’s wearing black jeans and a pale blue button down shirt, a black vest and a tie that Pete gave him when Beckett told him he was going to be a dad. It’s a hideous tie. “That’s a hideous fucking tie.”

“You gave it to me.”

“I know. Since when do you trust my sartorial tastes?” He manages a lopsided smile that he knows doesn’t reach his eyes. Shit. He didn’t intend to bring this down, doesn’t want to ruin this for William. “Don’t tell people I gave it to you. And take it off.”

“You take it off me.”

Pete stops for a moment, because William doesn’t say shit like that to him anymore, and certainly not in that tone. They got past the teasing, flirting stage quickly because William was a stubborn ass who needed to do it on his own, and Pete didn’t handle rejection well and so it was sort of a relief when Travie and Gabe stepped in and provided a buffer between them. “What?”

William shrugs a little, smiling something wicked that Pete recognizes and wants and doesn’t have any fucking clue what to do with. William turns, smooth and easy, and Pete wonders when he grew up, when he got all this confidence, as he follows him. He knows the answers to his questions, of course. William’s always had confidence in himself, he just needed other people to share it to feel like it fit him right.

There’s a back room, because there’s always a back room, and since Pete’s co-owner of the club, no one questions when he goes into the storage room. There are shelves of booze that look fairly depleted, attesting to the fact that this is a DecayDance party, as well as towels and glasses and napkins, pens and trays and rolls of receipt tape. William doesn’t turn on the light, but there are emergency lights in the room, so they’re bathed in a greenish glow.

Edited 2011-07-11 06:54 (UTC)

Pete stares at him, the changed contours of William’s face. He’s a man now, not as different from the boy Pete met, and someone Pete sometimes thinks he doesn’t know at all. His face has lost its baby fat, thinned and then filled out. His chin still has the deep cut groove in it, his Kirk Douglas chin or, as Carden always said, his buttface. His eyes are different set above the slash of cheekbones, dark and knowing and not afraid anymore.

“How’d you get here?” Pete whispers. He wants to know the secret. He thinks he’s been waiting a lifetime to figure it out.

William unknots the tie and tugs it, letting slither from beneath the collar of his shirt. He loops it over Pete’s head and against the nape of his neck, pulling him in closer. “You showed me the way.”

“No,” Pete shakes his head, surprised at the emotions rising up in him. Pride and fear and hope warring, pistols at sunrise. “You would have done it without me.”

“Maybe.” William knows that disagreeing will just make Pete more adamant, so he hedges. He was always good at that. “But you made it better. Easier. Doing what we love with friends is a hell of a lot better than doing it on our own.”

Pete swallows and lets William tug him closer. “I’ve always wanted this for you. From the beginning.”

“I know.” William nods and leans in, brushing his lips, feather-light, across Pete’s. “From the beginning. So please stop looking like we won’t want you here until the end.”

“You don’t need me anymore.”

“It’s not about needing you, Pete.” He kisses Pete again, slower, firmer, tongue playing along Pete’s lips like a promise made years ago. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

That last part, It's just perfect, William showing Pete what he needs to see.

I really like seeing William through Pete's eyes too, how he's changed over the years.

I do not understand the dearth of Pete/William fic. I mean...PETE. WILLIAM. He made a LABEL FOR THEM. Ugh ugh ugh.

Awwwwwwwwwwww. BOYS. ♥ I love them so very much.

I know it's probably not *exactly* what you were looking for, and I wanted to go with rougher, angrier sex, but William's livestream made me all girly.

Absolutely gorgeous. . .I really like your all-grown-up!William. . .

Thank you so much! I love all the changes you can see in all of the guys as they've grown up, and I love seeing what's stayed the same!

AWWWW. I really, really hope that happens :)

TAI is so good. I just want everyone to LOVE THEM.

Oh, I like that. Especially the last line.

BOYS. BOYS WHO ARE FRIENDS. UGH. I love them and want them all to be best friends FOREVER.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 3 of 5

A Bandom Kissing Meme.

PATD, Brendon/anyone

Re: PATD, Brendon/anyone

Re: PATD, Brendon/anyone

Re: PATD, Brendon/anyone

Re: PATD, Brendon/anyone

CS, Gabe/anyone

Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Re: Gabe/Patrick & Gabe/Pete -- Just To Fuck Shit Up

Crossover Kobra Kid/Gabe

Kobra Kid/Gabe -- Snake Vision

Re: Kobra Kid/Gabe -- Snake Vision

Re: Kobra Kid/Gabe -- Snake Vision

Re: Kobra Kid/Gabe -- Snake Vision

Re: Kobra Kid/Gabe -- Snake Vision

Re: Kobra Kid/Gabe -- Snake Vision

Re: Crossover Kobra Kid/Gabe: Bring 'Em Back Alive

Re: Crossover Kobra Kid/Gabe: Bring 'Em Back Alive

Re: Crossover Kobra Kid/Gabe: Bring 'Em Back Alive

Re: Crossover Kobra Kid/Gabe: Bring 'Em Back Alive

Re: Crossover Kobra Kid/Gabe: Bring 'Em Back Alive

Re: Crossover Kobra Kid/Gabe: Bring 'Em Back Alive

Re: Crossover Kobra Kid/Gabe: Bring 'Em Back Alive

Re: Crossover Kobra Kid/Gabe: Bring 'Em Back Alive

CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Re: CS/MCR Gabe/Gerard - Not Quite Paradise

Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2

Re: Crossover Gerard/Grant Morrison - a surprise (or two!) at Comic-Con 2/2