Original work of LadySmut - . .4335 - Any characters attributes/behavior and events are entirely fictional. Any reference or similarity to other work is completely coincidental.

Eras -:

Frank - Danger days. (but with his revenge piercings)
Gee - Bullets.
Mikey - Revenge.
Ray - Danger days.
Bob - Black parade.

Enjoy :)

I forced my rough lips upon his soft ones. The passion in my kiss cause his head to be harshly pushed against the wall behind him. I knew it was wrong. He was my brother. You can't get any worse than shoving you tongue down your brother's throat but he was kissing back. That was all that mattered. He was all that mattered. One of his hands was tangled in my greasy, black hair and I was unaware where the other one was going. He slithered down so he was underneath me and my cock throbbed in my jeans. I balanced myself on one hand and began to undo my belt. Surprisingly Mikey did the same. He yanked the waistband of his jeans down before pulling both my jeans and pants off. I suddenly felt self conscious. He smiled into our kiss as his hand traced the underneath of my cock. He pushed me off him. He left me half naked on the floor as he got up and walked out, grinning like a maniac. Something in the bottom of my chest hurt as I heard the front door close behind him.

Clinomania. An excessive desire to stay in bed. Exactly what I have. Every day. Fuck school. Fuck life. I eventually hauled myself out of a bad mood and out of my bed. I felt guilty for thinking like that. An image of my crying mother flashed before my eyes. She needed me. After what he had done I couldn't bail on her. I've always felt if I helped other people with their problems I could block out my own but somehow they always found me again. I thought of Mikey. He had always gotten a kick out of my pain. I imagined how distressed my face looked when he left last night and how smug his had looked. For once I thought he had actually snapped out of that mindset. I was wrong. Again. I walked over to the mound of clothes on my floor and dug out the least dirtiest band t-shirt I could find. I paired it with my skinniest, blackest jeans, as always, before painting on the most eyeliner I could be bothered to. I rustled my hair until I felt it fall in front of my eyes. Fucking ready. Ready for hell.

It was 9:30 before I walked into my english class. I had already missed tutor. gave me a worried smile and I held back a annoyed growl. I slumped in my spot at the back of the room. Everyone turned around as my backpack made a loud clunk on the floor where I had thrown it. I flung myself on the small plastic chair as everyone turned back and began to whisper. Great. I needed their shit least of all today. I would rip them to pieces if they said anything. Even if it was only in my mind. I began to doodle. Bats and skulls surrounded pictures of zombies that walked the lines of the paper around my song. Death fascinated me. God knows why. Trapped, in a wooden box, under mud and grass while you rotted away and creatures nibbled on your stinking flesh. Enthralling. The door creaked open. I didn't look up but my anxiety rose as I knew it would be another receptionist wanting to know why I was so late. Again. I heard Watson jump up from his chair.

"Guys, sorry to stop your hard work," He mumbled even though no one was working anyway. "This is our new student Frank."

I looked up and was surprised by what I saw. A punk-rock outcast stood at the front of the class. His eyes were staring at the worn converse on his feet as his black hair flopped perfectly around his face. His crumpled American Nightmare shirt clung to his flawless torso and through the slits in his torn jeans I could see the round of his knees. looked around. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"It looks like the only seat we have left is next to Gerard at the back." He pointed to me and I scowled at him. "I'm sure he will help you around for the next couple of days. Glad to have you in our school, Frank."

The kid shuffled towards my desk. I slammed my notebook shut. He looked at me anxiously and bit on his lip-ring before pulling out the chair next to me. I noticed he also had a ring on his left nostril. They suited him. I began to scrawl on the table. Too nervous to draw. Too nervous to speak. Too nervous to even look at him. He put his rough looking hands on the table. They shook. I felt sorry for him but he was annoying. I liked my peace in english. It was the only lesson where no one cared if you did nothing. I turned my back on vulnerable Frankie and stared out the window. The sun hung in the grey sky glowing like a cheap light bulb. A younger student stood shivering under the big oak. I watched the cigarette smoke leak from his mouth. It curled around his nostrils and faded into the polluted air. A bitten-down finger nail tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to the scared adolescent.

"W-what are we meant to be, erm, doing?" His eye lashes brushed his cheek as they turned a subtle red.

"Whatever you want to."

I found my voice trembling as I told him. He pulled a battered looking notebook from his satchel and opened it up. I tried to peer over his shoulder as he turned the pages. He suddenly closed it, making me jump.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." He whispered, still looking down, but smiling.

"No." I said quietly, my voice breaking. "No-one ever looks in there." I turned back to the window trying to get over how forward this kid had been. I hadn't even had a proper conversation with him and he wanted to trawl through my stuff. No way. The student turned from the tree and looked directly into my window. A malicious grin spread across his face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Someone had it out for me today. Mikey's glasses shone in the sun as he walked away. I heard Frankie let out a sigh behind me.

"Whoever looks that good in a beanie can fuck me any day." He said smiling. "He is perfect."

"He happens to be my brother." The smile dropped from his face as I turned around. "Stay away from him. Okay?"