Pluck

"He loves me"

Pluck

"He loves me not"

Pluck

"He loves me"

Pluck

"He loves me n-"

"…"

"You bastard"

"HAHAHAAHAHHHAAH"

Laughter erupted from behind the trunk of the aged oak tree.
As soon as the obtrusive honking laughter had begun, it stopped.
A terrible, awkward silence filled the air.

Frank's breath stopped.

"Wait…"

Oh god.
5,4,3,2-

"He?!"

Frank gulped, throwing down the petal-less flower, and anxiously tugging grass stems from the earth.
This was probably the ideal situation to attempt the whole 'breathe in and no one will see you' thing.

Frank gasped, held his breath.

Nothing happened.

Frank was still sat on the floor; grass all over the knees of his threadbare jeans, with his best friend staring incredulously at him from behind a tree.

Mouth slack, Glasses askew, Mikey Way took slow careful steps towards his friend, and stared down at the boy.

"Frank…"

"Mikes…" Frank imitated, trying to subtly steer the conversation away from his whole 'Hey I like dick' admission.

"Frankie, seriously. So, cock?"

Mikey Way was an idiot. Frank loved him, loved him like a brother, but he was an idiot.

"Sheesh, Mikey! Oh my god. You can't just SAY that…" Frank stammered, cheeks turning an unhealthily startling crimson.

"What?! Can't your brother from another mother ask you about your genital preference?!"

"Not when you put it like that, asswipe, no. What are we?! In the 60's?! Sheesh"

"You say sheesh too much"

Frank glared at Mikey, and then sighed a hearty sigh. Mikey would have worked it out, regardless of whether he caught Frank being a 12 year old girl, playing 'love me not'. He always works it out.
Mikey Way has been working Frank out ever since they were 4, in kindergarten. Frank was feeling really sad because he didn't want his mom to leave him, and Mikey toddled over to him and gave him his Batman figurine.
That shit was rare, and Mikey trusted Frank with his sticky, fat little paws to play with it.
They had been completely inseparable ever since.

Now Frank thought about it, he was actually very surprised Mikey hadn't sussed Frank waaaaay before now. The painted nails (Black, okay! Black!), The eyeliner (GUYLINER, Gerard insisted. Frank just shrugged and called it eyeliner anyway), the pink belt, the excruciatingly long periods of time spend in front of a mirror squeezing every blemish and spraying his hair with more hairspray than probably conceived possible.

Frank was a flaming homosexual, and proud of it.

He just hadn't admitted it to anyone other than his dog, as of yet…

Frank had always known he was gay.
Frank had kissed a girl once, but she tasted like cigarette ash and cold chicken and Frank was nearly sick into her mouth. The high pitched, breathy, grabbiness of the whole thing made Frank really uncomfortable.

Plus, the whole vagina thing. That shit was nasty.

Mikey was still sat next to Frank, had practically climbed into his lap, in fact. Eyes blinkblinkblinking behind the thick rimmed spectacles, watching Frank sigh and squirm and try to think of something to say other than 'Yes I love dick, one dick in particular but I'd rather claw out my eyes and feed them to Pooh rather than admit it to anyone, especially you"

"Oh Mikes.." Frank decided on, rubbing his eyes harshly with the palms of his hand.

"Frank… You do realize we can't be friends now, right?" Mikey mumbled, glancing at Frank uneasily before staring at the floor.

Frank blinked.

No way was this happening.
No. fucking. Way.

"Mikey! Wh-… No, please Mikes.."

"…"

"I HATE YOU SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA"

Mikey was cackling on the floor, clutching his stomach and honking that ridiculous honk once again.
Frank sat, stony faced and snarling at his friend, but the weight on his shoulder was lifted. Mikey didn't give a shit.
Of course Mikey wouldn't give a shit.

"I finally have a gay best friend. We can give each other make overs and talk about how dishy the quarter back is!" Mikey giggled, and Frank wasn't so sure how he was the only homosexual sat under this tree, really.