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“There. Starting now, 3 out of 5 days a week you come here, you make dinner and then you go home. 500 a day, plus whatever you were getting for the pool cleaning.”
Gerard thinks his jaw drops. “What?”
or, all Gerard planned on doing this summer was cleaning pools, somewhere along the way things change
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(Of course, that high goes away later that night. When Terry comes home and Mickey realises it’s really difficult to get eyeliner off completely. He gets knocked around a bit because guys don’t wear makeup. And he doesn’t touch the eyeliner again.)
He doesn’t stop going to gigs though. Cheap ones. And from there it all seems to spiral.
or, mickey's into punk music and ian's the best person he's ever met
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“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat,” Frank mutters. He can feel the crucifix burning against his chest. “I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger and you invited me in.”
He can feel those eyes on him.
“Matthew 25:35.”
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Because it’s wrong and it’s dangerous, and messing with guys on the DL has always been his MO but this is different. This is having hot, crazy sex with a guy that’s got to clamp a hand over his mouth. Being all too careful not to leave marks just in case someone else can see. And Mickey feels bad. He has to feel bad.
But he’s been fucking his sister’s boyfriend for well over six months now, and he can’t seem to get himself to stop.
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But there’s something in him, something being cradled by that hand on the side of his face, that’s simmering slightly. Curtis has green eyes. Familiar and green and looking straight at him. Their legs are pressed together because they’re sitting slightly too close. And he’s warm. In a sterile fucking room, he’s far too warm.
Just like that, Mickey’s kissing him.
or, doing porn isn't that bad when there's a cute guy there too

