#ierobfs

before you read ! ... mike is 18 in this zzzont come for me !!! basically js him being a total nasty gross freak because i KNOW him and know what he is ........

mike wheeler was typically described as a good, well-disciplined person. and, if you asked him, he could only agree! he was pretty aware of right from wrong, knew how to handle self control. even if it was more-so selective at times. like, when he skipped class. or, swore at nancy at the dinner table. or when he directly ignored his chores... or the times he would get in screaming contests with his mom because she was being totally unfair.

... or maybe, like now. having his nose stuffed into your panties, desperately trying to keep his high off your scent as he furiously pumped his right hand to the problem in his pants that's been aching since he left your house.

he felt ridiculously guilty, his conscience dripping in disgust. but, god, how did you expect to leave him alone in your and not take notice of the panties that were just barely peaking out from under your bed?

he remembers the moment as he bucks his hips into his own touch, his pathetic noises coming out muffled as his other hand grips harder into the fabric of your panties.

your room was so clean, so tidy. your shelves were full of books, CDs, and picture frames. looking into your life as an outsider, it felt so ... foreign. nothing he was used to. it was so strange to see you living such a normal life while his had been anything but.

his gaze dropped to your bed. perfectly made, pillows soft and decorative. his eyes trailed to the bottom lace of your sheets— and that's when he saw it.

just barely peaking out from under the bed, a pair of white panties with a small lacy bow on the front of the hems, a gentle pattern of light pink roses with sage-colored leaves stretching from behind the pink. they must have missed your eyes when picking up earlier, is what came to his mind.

his chest became warm and tight without missing a beat. he couldn't stop his mind from the small flashes of you in his imagination- you wearing them, taking them off, maybe a matching bra with the same familiar floral print.

considering the fact his shitty magazine full of half-nude girls was confiscated by his snooping parents, this was just what he needed.

immediately, his conscience woke up and scolded him. just act like you didn't see it, mike. wait for her to come back then go home and forget the whole thing.

even then, he couldn't rip his eyes away from it. and the sound of your footsteps returning had him second guessing himself. at the last second, cursing himself under his breath, he grabbed the panties, stuffing them into his pocket.

his mind kinda blurred after that. he couldn't listen to a damn word you said the whole time when he could feel your wadded up panties in his pocket as his mind raced with thoughts of what you'd maybe done in said panties. he couldn't look you in the eyes when all he was wondering was if yours fluttered shut when you touched yourself.

he biked home as fast as possible.

now, he was drooling on your panties as he pushed them impossibly closer to his nose, growing sloppier with his movements. even the shame aspect of all of it was getting him off. screw self control, no feeling of righteousness could beat the heat that formed in his lower stomach.

the thought of pounding into you, feeling you squeeze so tightly around him— the way you'd sound whining out his name. it was dizzying.

or maybe when you were going to practice. ideas of breaking in the locker room, finding you all alone in your cheer uniform in that skirt that rides up in the all the right way, and forcing himself inside you. mike's mind trails off to the last pep rally, after you had performed a whole routine with the team in front of the school. he was at the top of the bleachers, distracted by friends, so he didn't get much of a good look at you. until after everyone was leaving the pep rally. moving through the clustered crowds, you had bumped into him and gave him a friendly smile and wave. he returned the same but kept his eyes lingering as you walked away. it wasn't long until he noticed just how short that skirt was for a uniform, especially considering he got a perfect fucking look at the fold of your ass.

his hand sped up, his noises becomes breathier and a little too loud for comfort. his mind flashed to one last thing— the idea of being your boyfriend. fuck, it was stupid. maybe it was the stupidest part of this whole ordeal. you two were from entirely two different worlds it seemed, and he knew you were probably off with some jerk off the football team. but, he couldn't bring himself to think about reality. all he could picture was having you all to himself. having people wonder how the hell he got you. just the impossible image of you being his girlfriend, being able to bend you over and fuck you anytime. fuck, even the idea of your pretty lips around his cock, your face wet with spit and his pre-cum. just taking his cock, slapping it hard against your face, you moaning out his name—

Life in the van was fucking rough, to say the least.

It was cramped, smelly, the piece of shit was constantly breaking down. Not to mention the lack of privacy. Frank swears he'd kill one of them for five minutes alone.

It was the same damn routine. Ride in the van for up to eight hours, packed in with the same people for months, maybe a bathroom stop here and there, but that was only on the good days. On the usual not-even-a-little-bit-good days, Frank would usually sleep in the back of the van until they hit a pothole. Then, he'd wake up, complain, cuss everyone out, then go back to sleep.

It was getting to the point where everyone was beginning to complain about Frank. How he didn't help drive, pay for gas, and was just generally becoming negative. If it ever got brought up to Frank, it only ended with him flipping everyone off and threatening to give Mikey a black eye.

The tension was only growing as days passed. Everyone knew a major factor of it was that everyone had been couped up in a small space together, forced to be stuck by each other's side for hours, only to be right each other's side again at a venue that was hardly bigger than the van.

Frank was looking out the window, having just woken up from Ray nearly driving off the road, loudly repeating "Sorry, sorry, sorry-" as the wake-up strips shook the car and harshly rattled Frank from slumber.

"I gotta take a leak." Frank announced to the vehicle. Mikey looked at him, laying just a few feet away. He threw an empty Faygo bottle at him, hitting Frank on the head.

"Here," Mikey said, "Gee said we aren't stopping for another three hours." Frank groaned aloud.

"Actually," Ray called from the drivers seat. "I'm, I'm pretty beat, guys. Can we stop at a truck stop, or something, for the night? Unless someone else wants to drive."

"Don't ask Frank." Mikey immediately replied, his tone bored. Frank whipped his head back to face Mikey, furrowing his brows. "You got something to say, Mike?"

Mikey flicked his eyes up to Frank, his expression unwavering. "I only repeated what you said the other day." Frank shot him a look. "If I said it once, I don't need you to suck my ass and say it again."

Gerard sighed, turning from the passenger seat to face the two in the back. "Guys, please, just- not tonight." He then looked at Ray, who looked like he was just about fighting to stay awake. "You wanna pull into this truck stop here? We'll just start back in the morning."

"Jesus, does that mean you two are getting back here as well?" Frank complained. "I rather sleep on the fucking concrete than be snuggled up with- with the fuckin' high and mighty Mikey Way."

"Do you ever stop-" Mikey attempted to protest before he caught Gerard's eyes that were silently pleading him to just let it go. Mikey only stopped himself and opened the back door of the van. "I'm just gonna get some air." He grimaced, his eyes flicking back to Gerard as he made a nod at him. Gerard breathed, "I'll join you. I need a smoke before bed anyways."

Mikey exited the van with a slam of the door. Gerard simply climbed out of the passenger seat, offering a sympathetic look to Ray, whispering about making sure he gets good sleep tonight.

As Gerard shut the passenger door, Ray undid his seatbelt, crawling into the back of the van next to Frank. Frank exhaled sharply through his nose, looking back at Ray who was shuffling pillows and blankets around to get comfortable.

"Can you fuckin' believe that guy?" Frank huffed. "Just, how ridiculous, and how fucking typical, too! Mikey's so absorbed in himself, it's just-"

"Frank," Ray attempted. Frank rambled on, "No, dude, hear me out. Did you hear the way-"

"Frank," Ray repeated, Frank went quiet with a huff. Ray looked at him as he rested his head down on a pillow. "Let it go."

Frank blinked. "Dude, c'mon, you don't get it." He said with a groan. Ray shook his head, "I promise you I do get it. That's why I'm saying, be the bigger person and let it go."

Frank huffed again. Why did he even bother anyway? Ray wouldn't get it. He got along with everyone and was practically the fucking embodiment of Zen, or at least way closer to it than Frank was. Frank wasn't this damn uptight. Even he knew he was being way more aggressive than usual. He blamed it on the fact he hadn't smoked weed all week, and also hadn't jerked off in months.

Normally getting high got rid of his pent up feeling, just evened him out enough to not focus on being so bothered. But, he had tried being more cautious of smoking in the enclosed area, more so because the smell made Gee's stomach turn. And they hadn't stopped anywhere longer than thirty minutes since last Tuesday. Needless to say, things were only piling up for Frank and it was becoming painfully noticeable.

"Whatever," Frank finally said, "You care if I roll up? I'm losing my fuckin' mind, man."

Ray glanced his way. "You smoke more than anyone I know."

"C'mon, Toro. I've been couped up in this smelly van for months, stuck with the Way brothers and, occasionally, your long, boring lectures, and haven't gotten laid since March." Frank let out, as if he was holding it back this whole time. "You're gonna live if I smoke a little, I won't."

Ray snorted out a soft snicker, rolling his eyes. "Way to over explain. I don't care if you smoke, just let me get a hit."

Frank wanted to make some comment about how Ray just criticized him for smoking, but knew he was just being petty. He simply grabbed his tray and baggie that was stuffed in his bag and silently got to work.

"You seriously mean to tell me," Frank managed out between coughs and light laughter, "Harry Houdini just- he held his breath under water for ninety minutes? Like it was nothing? Biggest fucking lie I've-"

"Okay, well, it wasn't like it was just nothing! The guy trained for that shit, I dunno. He was a, like, an illusionist!" Ray emphasized for probably the third time now. Frank hadn't really been listening to Ray ramble this whole time, only taking long hits then briefly passing the joint to Ray who definitely had more than enough if he was sitting here gawking about Harry Houdini.

"You're a damn wreck, Toro. Can drink like a fish, but you take three hits off a joint and you start talking about magicians from the, fuckin', uh, eighteen-hundreds." Frank noted, looking at Ray through glossy eyes. "I'd say you're a cheap date."

"I'd say you let me hit that thing way too many times." Ray snorted, "You set me up, Iero."

Frank shook his head with a smirk. "I need to get on your level, man. Makes me think of being nineteen, smoking in my room and jerking off. Best times, dude."

Ray's eyebrows kinda raise at Frank's ever so casual admission of jerking off. Of course, he assumed he did. (Not that he ever made a effort to think of Frank's masturbating habits.) But, Jesus, just loud and proud about it. Ray's expression must've of been telling, because Frank quickly followed up with a snort of laughter and casual, "What? Don't act like you weren't like that in college, too. Getting high in your dorm all day... Then jerking off all day, too." He said the last part he was realizing maybe this was oversharing.

Ray slightly narrowed his eyes. "Some of us were actually passionate about our degree, and were studying so they'd graduate."

Frank shrugged. "Shoulda known. You look like you'd be a total stuck up nerd in college."

"Yeah, you look like someone who had a chronic smoking and masturbation problems in college." Ray playfully shot back, all too aware of him talking about Frank jerking off. Maybe he was overthinking it. He was stoned, after all.

Frank huffed a laugh, carrying on. "Yeah, and what a fucking dream it was. Never thought it would be something I would look back on and think about how good I had it. But, also didn't think I'd be stuck up in a stink ass van and forced to go months without wanking." Frank mindlessly gestured a jerking off motion, almost immediately regretting it when Ray looked away after seeing the motion.

"I guess," Ray said, unable to meet Frank's eyes. "I never thought about it much. I really haven't done anything since we started this tour." A weird, definitely tense silence fell over them. Neither of them even able to look at the other. The air became noticeably thicker to Ray.

Ray swallowed uncomfortably, high and nervous. He gave a half-hearted laugh, "Shit, now thinking about it, I'd jerk one out now if I could." He immediately regretted the words as soon as he heard himself speak them.

Silence fell again. Frank shifted, "I mean," He coughed lightly, visibly nervous but his face reading curious. Ray looked up, finally looking at Frank with slightly wider eyes.

"Bro code, right?" Frank continued. "Unless you wanna go through the whole 'taking-way-too-long-in-the-gas-station-bathroom' thing. Whatever floats your boat."

That didn't necessarily float Ray's boat, but apparently the mention of whatever Frank's idea of "bro code" was did float, as his dick seemingly answered for him as it had lightly twitched in his pants.

What the hell. Ray was stoned, so was Frank. This could be chalked off as a moment of weakness or a future story to laugh about. Whatever it was, Ray found himself lightly nodding. He finally spoke up, "Okay," is all he could trust himself to say as his fingertips hovered over the button of his jeans. His eyes shifted, looking Frank up and down. His body language seemed nervous, hesitant in a way. But, he looked more eager than Ray could physically let on.

The joint had been long forgotten about by this point, but was still clutched between Frank's fingers, now being put out against the back of the driver seat and placed on the middle console near the front. Frank shifted himself comfortably next to Ray, still keeping a gap between them. Wordlessly, Frank carefully scootched his sweatpants down just below his hips, moving his boxers down a little, too, lightly grabbing his dick out. He was only half-hard, but still Ray caught the way Frank's breath hitched as he stroked himself.

Ray, on the other hand, was more anxious. Ray screwed maybe two girls in High School and one in college, but that was all. He heard plenty of Frank's stories about banging random chicks he met at shows before starting the tour. Not to mention the girls who were practically throwing themselves at Frank during their own shows at shitty venues. Ray didn't usually get that if ever. It was an almost uncomfortable feeling knowing Frank probably did this shit so often in his old bands, all while Ray can barely gather the courage to palm himself through his jeans while laying here next to Frank. Ray had to forcibly stop himself from thinking that this was some special thing to do. You're high, Toro. That's all. Get a grip.

Meanwhile, Frank seemed to be doing just fine. He could feel Ray staring at him, but that didn't hold him back. He knew damn well he was already moving his hand too fast, making lewd sounds next to someone who generally had no business seeing him in this context. But, he couldn't bring himself to care too much. He knew he needed this, and was starting to notice maybe Ray did, too, considering how he couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene Frank was making.

"Oh, dude," Frank panted out, slowing himself down as he directed his attention to Ray suddenly. "Jerk yourself off, too. You don't gotta just sit and watch."

"Right," Ray breathed, finally looking away and focusing on the tent growing in his jeans. He was still hesitant with his movements, but seeing Frank let loose had him moving for his jeans a bit more eagerly.

Ray palmed himself through his boxers, earning a small hiss from himself. Frank looked his way, eyes lidded as his hand made sloppy, rough movements.

"Fuck, Toro, look at you," Frank practically drooled as his eyes fell on Ray's clothed bulge. "Didn't know you had all that. You're making me look small, man."

"Shut up." Is all Ray could manage before grabbing his dick out of his boxers, immediately stroking himself once his dick was out. Frank was now the one who couldn't keep his eyes off the other. Watching Ray stroke himself only made Frank considerably harder and noisier.

"Fuck," Frank breathed out, mindlessly shifting his body closer to Ray. "Fuck, hold on, Ray, c'mere." He said, sitting up and moving right next to Ray. He straddled Ray, pushing his dick against Ray's, stroking them off together in one swift motion.

"Frankie- Jesus, fuck," Ray whined. He bucked his hips, craving more and more of the friction as Frank sped up his own pace.

"Yeah? Feel good? Feels so fuckin'- so good, Ray." Frank rambles in whines. "I'm gonna- gonna make you feel so fuckin' good, fuckfuckfuck-" He continues as he ruts against Ray more and more, moving his hand in such a sloppy motion it's doing nothing but everything at the same time. With a few more desperate thrusts and strings of begging, Frank releases and it shoots out all over Ray's hoodie, which he definitely knows will gross him out in a matter of hours, but currently he's taking his own hand and continuously stroking Frank, doing his damn best to milk out any more ropes of cum and noises from Frank as he whines on and on. And Frank called him the cheap date.

Even in Frank's overstimulated state, he manages to wrap his hand around Ray's dick, which is now achingly hard and already spouting the smallest drips of precum. Ray releases his grip on Frank's own cock, unable to muffle the noise that bubbles from his throat just from the contact.

With Ray under him, Frank's got him right where he wants him. Ray's already bucking into his hand and is falling apart quicker than Frank can really register. Does this still count as bro code?

Frank keeps his hand movements on Ray's manhood steady, really savoring the spots that earn the small noises from Ray. As if it's like some kind of second nature, Frank leans down, kissing and licking a stripe up Ray's neck, before placing a deep kiss. Deep enough to bruise.

"Frankie," He panted, "you're gonna leave a mark."

Frank only lightly shrugs, looking at him through half lidded eyes. "So?" He gave a knowing look, suddenly speeding up his movements. Ray threw his head back with a groan.

"You're a real- real fucking tease, y'know?" Ray managed out. His senses were failing him, he was too far in where lines begin to blur and he loses his own composure as he lets his hands roam around Frank's body before one of them grabs a fistful of hair, forcing Frank closer to him. The noise Frank makes has Ray bucking into the touch, his mind wandering past the hand job. Going off into territory that has his wondering how Frank sounds when he's inside someone. Ray wonders how pathetic he would look. Does he rut into them and whine like a dog in heat? Is he whispering sweet nothing? Jesus, Ray has to forcibly rid himself of the thought of potentially being inside of Frank. Just the thought itself has him unraveling more and more.

"Fuck, C'mon, Frankie," Ray breathes, almost like a whine. "You gonna make me come? Make me feel good, c'mon, fuck-" He feels almost ridiculous as all these lewd things just spill from his lips, but all his dignity is lost when Frank rambles, begging Ray to come as he pumps his hand faster and faster until Ray breaks. And, lucky enough, it's all over his sweater, again. As said, totally hot in the moment, maybe not in a few hours when it's his only sweater left.

Ray's head falls back as Frank works him through the orgasm as he keeps his hands moving. Once Ray's chest slows it's rise and falls, he looks back down at Frank, who was licking Ray's come off his hand. Frank's always been a good looking guy, but here, in this exact way, Frank's fucking hot and suddenly Ray doesn't even feel weird about saying it aloud.

"You're... really fucking hot, man." Ray blurts aloud, Frank lets out a breathy laugh.

"You're fucking hot, Toro. And apparently, also hung like a damn horse." Frank notes with a nod. "Like, jeez, a warning would've been good."

Ray huffs a laugh, throwing his head back on the pillow, becoming too aware of the fact that his dick was just out.

The following morning was probably the worst part of all this.

Waking up with a pothole shaking the van and semen staining your sweater wasn't particularly a dream. But, unfortunately for Ray, this was his own personal nightmare. Jesus, if he wasn't so lazy he could've just taken his sweater off, thrown it on Mikey's pillow or something-

"Look who's back with the living." Ray heard Frank's voice before he saw him. He tilted his head, rubbing the sleep from his eyes like he couldn't believe Frank was still here, moreso couldn't believe how fucking chipper he was. Ray could hear the tilt of tease in his voice. What a prick. "Morning, Toro."

"Morning, Ray." Gerard rang from the passenger seat, a soft smile on his lips, ever so kind and unknowing to Frank's bullshit. "I got Mikey to drive until we get to this venue. The dude told me it's pretty small, so, just a fair warning."

"Nothing new to us." Frank butted in, "The venue we played last week was smaller than this fucking van."

"That's literally impossible." Mikey added on. "It was at least the size of a living room. Not a... small ass van..." He kinda trailed off. Frank only scooted up closer to the brothers' with a shit eating grin. "What's got your panties in a twist, Mike? Everything okay at home?" His tone dripping with fake sympathy.

"You!" Mikey snapped, whipping his head around to face Frank before looking back at the road. "You are the twist in my panties!" Gerard exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Frank dramatically gasped. "Jesus, Mikey, here? In front of your brother? Oh, you dirty, dirty dog." He barked a laugh before Gerard lightly shoved him into the back, not too far from Ray.

"The hell has you laughing like this at nine am?" Mikey said, "What, finally got your dick sucked?"

"Should've seen it, man. Toro sucked my dick better than you, Mikey." Frank shot back, sounding far too casual for Ray's wellbeing. His eyes went a little wide as he looked at Frank. Frank shrugged at him while he looked back and forth between the brothers for even a hint of believing Frank's bullshit. (He at least wanted the record straight- Ray didn't suck anyone's dick!)

"You guys are so immature," Gerard breathed, shaking his head and definitely hiding any hints of amusement. Ray swallowed, feeling like he had been quiet for far too long. "Yeah, you guys need to make up or something. This is getting kinda unbearable."

Frank looked at Ray like he was almost surprised he even spoke. Frank looked him up and down with a smirk, a look that read out "You're easy." in big, bold letters. "You know what else is unbearable?"

"You," Gerard butted in, ever so matter-of-factly, "this car ride. And Mikey." Which caused Mikey to turn and blink at Gerard. Frank an unimpressed look, "You done?"

Gerard shot a look, almost looking angry. Maybe more annoyed. "Are you?"

Frank huffed, leaning against the wall of the van in the back and kicking Gerard's seat hard before staring out the window. Ray felt kinda shitty, considering the fact it now seemed like everyone was dogging on Frank. Of course, Ray didn't mean anything by it. Just felt like he needed to say something to distract from Frank's stupid joke about Ray sucking his dick. The fuck happened to bro code? Not that anyone seemed to believe it, or even seemed amused from it. Ray only glanced Frank's way, catching his eyes in the reflection of the window. Maybe Ray was the douchebag.

"Those guys weren't kidding, this place is tiny as hell." Mikey said, leaning his beat-up bass against a speaker. "We're only gonna fit a max of, what, thirty people in here? If that?"

"It's cool, don't worry. We can make it work." Gerard assured. Ray exhaled through nose sharply, giving a half-assed chuckle. "Yeah, make it work with people practically hugging me."

"It's not ideal, I know. But, we can't be too picky right now. Honestly? We're lucky these asshole even let us use this place." Gerard went on. Ray tried to stay focused on Gerard giving some shit peptalk, but his eyes kept floating off to Frank. Who was in his own world, getting his pedals set up for the show. Ray was silently hoping that Frank was secretly listening in and about to drop some smartass line that would somehow piss off Mikey, but it never came.

Ray coughed, all eyes falling to him, even Frank's. "I'm gonna- uh, head to the dress room. Need to take a leak, get ready. Shit like that."

Ray was rendered useless when it came to lying. It was obvious, painstakingly so, that Ray was full of shit. But, Gerard assured he was fine, waving him off as he went back to talking to Mikey. Something about the show. Who knew, who fucking cared. Not Frank. Especially not when he made eye contact with Ray, who dumbly nodded towards the dress room when he locked eyes with Frank. Silently, he stood up and followed Ray, somehow not gathering any attention to himself.

Frank followed in behind Ray, only for Ray to sharply turn and shut the door with a slam. Frank's eye widened, looking at Ray, then the door. "Sorry," Ray nervously grinned. "A little too intense there."

Frank gave a dry chuckle, "You think?"

A small quiet falls between them, almost as thick as the silence from the previous night. The previous night, Jesus, it was stuck in Ray's head, driving him the kind of crazy that has him second guessing every stupid joke that Frank says, or every time they maintain eye contact longer than what Ray's used to. He can't help but wonder why the hell does everything feel so charged now? Ray feels dizzy just from being in another enclosed space with him all alone.

"Uh," Ray finally spoke. "Are we cool?"

Frank blinks. "Yeah?" Like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Annoyance stirs in Ray's chest from how Frank's acting like this is something stupid to even bring up. He subsides the feeling with a harsh sigh. "Well, I dunno. Just... Earlier? In the van?"

"What, when you guys dogpiled on me? Said I was unbearable, immature, whatever else you apparently can't stand about me." Frank said it so calm and naturally. Ray bashfully looked away.

"Not the moment I was talking about, but..." He lightly trailed off. "I didn't mean anything by it. You made some joke about me sucking your dick, or some shit. I just brain-farted and wanted the attention off me."

"Jesus Christ, Toro, no one actually thought you sucked my dick!" Frank rubbed his face, in disbelief that Ray was genuinely concerned over middle-school locker room joke. "Fuck, your head is so far up your ass, you might as well suck your own dick!"

Ray blinked, shaking his head. "Well, still! Does it not feel weird to joke about?"

"You are way overthinking this." Frank grumbled. "Again. It was a joke, no one thinks shit."

Ray stood there for a moment before sighing, leaning against the counter next to the mirror. "Oh."

Frank sighed with furrowed brows as he took in the scene of Ray looking a fucking dog who just got disowned. He joined Ray's side, leaning on the counter next to him. "Jesus, dude, you look like I just kicked you in the side."

Ray let out a dry laugh. "No, I guess I was just overthinking it. I'm sorry if I was a dick."

"You're cool, don't worry about it." Frank assured, "If anyone was being a dick, it was Mikey and Gee. You can usually keep a level head."

Ray grinned. "I thought it was up my ass?" Which earned a snort of laughter mixed with a giggle from Frank. "Shut up."

Before Ray could fit in one last quip, the door opened to reveal Gerard. He quickly looked the two up and down with a stern look before meeting Ray's gaze. "Are you gonna get your amp from the van, or..?" He trailed off. Ray jumped up.

"Shit! Yeah, Gee, sorry." Ray hurried out. Gerard followed instantly, leaving Frank alone in the dress room, staring at the door as it eased shut.

The show wasn't their best, to be honest, but the crowd didn't care much for the quality. More-so for the energy they brought. And Mikey Way, apparently.

Mikey finally slipped into the dress room, hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, and glasses daring to slip off his face any second. Frank snorted. "Did you get your ass beat or get your world rocked?"

"Those chicks loved me, man!" Mikey exclaimed, "And all I had to do was stand pretty and play bass."

"Must've been hard, considering you suck at both." Frank said. Gerard shot him a look. He returned his gaze to Mikey, "Just help us pack the van up before going back to your groupies."

Mikey was already heading towards the door. "Don't stress it, Gee, you know I will. Let me just... visit with one of my, uh, associates, real quick." He hurriedly spoke, walking out the door without any consultation. Gerard groaned, "Mikey! Dude, c'mon!" his voice faded as he chased him out the door.

Ray was in his own world, tying up cords and putting them where they needed to be. May have not been their best, but, shit, the way Ray was playing, he dared to say it was one of his best shows. Personally, at least.

Frank looked at Ray, who moved his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes as he put his amp in his shitty suitcase his mom got him a few years back. "You killed it tonight, Toro." Ray looked up with a smile he didn't even know he was wearing. "Oh, thanks, man. I try."

Frank walked closer to him, now standing by his side. "The girl up in front of you was loving it. She was trying to get your attention the whole show." Ray snickered at the thought of that. "Guess I was too distracted. Had a show to play and all." Ray said.

"Yeah, guess so. At least you aren't like Mikey, where all he can focus on is any and every girl in the audience."

Ray groaned just at the thought of it. "He's got dick for brains, dude. Telling you now, he's probably in the back of the van with a girl now."

Frank barked a laugh. "The suspension's gonna be fucking broken when he get back."

Ray snorted, "Imagine one of us caught him. Shit- imagine Gerard catches him!"

Frank laughed harder this time, turning into that high-pitch laughter that Ray was all too familiar with when someone got a good laugh out of Frank. "Poor Gee. Hearing his nerd of a brother nail some girl out of his league-" He paused before making a face and raising the pitch of his voice. "Oh, right there, Mikey! Fuck! Tell me about Lord of The Rings again!"

It was joke. Painfully obvious it was a joke. But, the face Frank made and the exact pitch of his voice sounded all too similar to the night before. The night before, the night before... Goddammit, and there he was, stuck with the memory of Frank panting and whining on top of him all over again. He felt like his brain had a fucking pulley string. Ray could only muster a half-hearted laugh, the inside of his mouth now feeling dry and his hands feeling clammy.

Frank laughed again, this time it was obvious at what he was laughing at. Not Mikey, Ray and his awkward reaction, because he knew all too well when he got under someone's skin. Frank smirked.

"What, Toro? Joke over now? Or would you rather it be you with the girl out of your league?" It took Ray a lot to think that Frank was the said girl, he guesses boy in this scenario, out of his league.

Ray chuckled. "Whatever, man."

Frank exhaled a snicker, "Whatever? Whatever to-" Here he went again, "Oh, fuck, Ray! Yeah, like that!"

Ray immediately shushed his, taking his hands and covering Frank's mouth. "Shut the hell up, Frank!" His face now red all while Frank's was challenging. He moved Ray's hands slightly, enough to speak up. "What?"

Ray would be a damn liar if he said Frank's stupid, and very over-dramatic, sounds and expression didn't make his dick twitch in his own pants. What he didn't seem to realize was that he was already half-fucking-hard and it was pressed right next to Frank's lower hip. He only realized it when Frank's eye landed on his crotch.

Ray backed away, cursing under his breath. "We- we need to pack. Gee will be back any minute, and is definitely gonna chew us out-"

"Is that really what you wanna do right now?" Frank asked, his tone and smirk knowing. Ray felt frozen as Frank walked up to him. "Because something's fully telling me, you'd wanna do something else."

Ray can't stop his mind from flashing the idea of Frank bent over the counter, looking into the streaky mirror all while Ray stuffs him full, digging his fingernails into the small of Frank's back that's usually hidden so well with his slightly oversized clothes. Ray fears for a moment that Frank can somehow read his mind, because his gaze darkens as he walks closer to Ray. Closer and closer until Ray's back is hitting the way and Frank's basically climbing on him as their lips bluntly make contact.

Neither of them really knows who kissed who first, it just felt like a blur until Ray felt the taste titanium in his mouth. Without much thought, he pulled on the piercing as he roughly kissed him, which earned a sound from Frank, so Ray's sure as hell he's doing something right.

He wraps his arms around Frank's torso and brings him impossibly closer, rutting his hard-on into Frank's groin. It's all so much but not enough.

Frank broke away only to bring his lips to Ray's neck, kissing harshly and littering his collarbone with bruises followed by hushed whispers of his name.

"Yeah?" Is all Ray can breathe out. Before he knows it, he has Frank sitting on the counter and he's between his legs, standing. He forces Frank's lips back to his, crashing then together only to rip apart and kiss right on Frank's scorpion tattoo. Frank hisses and pants as Ray sucks down on that spot. Somewhere along this way, Frank undid Ray's pants and let them fall to his ankles, carefully stroking his dick through his boxers. It catches Ray off guard but earns a guttural noise that's like fucking music to Frank's ears. It's too good, he knows he can't wait as he slides his hand down Ray's boxers.

Ray does his damn best but it's hard to keep any sense of composure when Frank's touching him and making all these sounds and pleads right in his ear, but he fumbles with Frank's belt until finally undoing it.

He manages to shuffle Frank's pants down enough to where he can comfortably put his hand down Frank's boxers. The feeling has Frank whining even more. For someone who can talk a lot game and shit, he's a pretty big whiner, Ray thinks with a smirk.

Ray moves his hand fast, stroking Frank quicker by the second, making him squirm and hold down hard onto Ray's arm. "Mmfm, Ray, slow- ha, slow down, fuck-" Frank manages out as his forehead falls onto Ray's shoulder. Ray only grunts in response, not changing his speed whatsoever.

"Fuck, fuck, c'mon, Ray, please-" Frank moves his head and bites down on Ray's shoulder, muffling his own cries. Ray didn't expect him to bite down so hard, but he could barely register the pain. With Frank bucking into his name and repeating his name over and over like he needed him, Ray was too blissed out on his own high.

He was only half listening when Frank whimpered out how close he was. Close was a damn understatement because Frank was already coming as he whined. Ray watched the way Frank's own come coated from the inside of his boxers. Ray continued his movements, studying Frank's face as he kept on.

"That's it," Ray cooed, "C'mon, Frankie, give me some more."

Ray kept on moving his hand, only now agonizingly slow just to watch Frank's body jolt. He was fucking exhausted already, Ray could see it. Frank took a shaky breath as he looked up at Ray through his eyelashes, chest going up and down. Something about the damn sight made Ray painfully harder. All his own self respect was out the fucking door when he started helping Frank up.

"I- I just wanna try something, c'mere." He told Frank as he practically grabbed his smaller, and basically limp, body, turning him around.

Frank didn't say much, only small noises when Ray's rough hands took ahold of his body. It took Frank looking up, seeing himself in the mirror, to realize how Ray had him bent over the counter, and was now working down Frank's boxers.

His eyes widened, more-so over the fact that Frank is usually the one doing the fucking. He's never had anything up his own ass, and the thought of Ray's ridiculously sized dick anywhere near him did more than just intimidate him.

"Ray, I don't- I don't think you're fit," Frank propped himself up on his arms. "Like, at fucking all."

Ray gave a nervous look. There sure as hell wasn't any lube in the damn dressing room, let alone in the van. It was pretty obvious they both wanted this exponentially, there was just no way around it.

"I'll be careful, I swear, Frankie." Ray's gaze was still reading off his nerves, but with Ray still tugging down Frank's boxers until they fell at his ankles, along with his own, he knew any anxieties were bound to disappear within the next few minutes.

"Fuckin' better." Frank grumbled under his breath, trying to think about anything other than the fact this was more than likely gonna hurt like hell.

Ray spat in his hand before stroking his dick. Gross? Yeah. But also made Frank weirdly more turned on? Fuck yeah. So much so, Frank didn't even feel anxious when Ray began lining himself up, only feeling impatient.

All the while, Ray was touching Frank like he was glass right now, even when putting his hand Frank's hip just to keep himself steady, he was careful with how much pressure he even put down.

"Just, tell me if you need a second, or anything." Ray made sure, trying to subside the fact he was practically fucking aching for Frank. "I don't want you to feel-"

"Shut up, man, just-" Frank snapped, but immediately lowering his voice realizing his own position. "Just fuck me, c'mon."

Ray didn't put up a fight. He finally entered Frank, not too fast but not too slow. Frank's head immediately dropped, furrowing his brows as Ray only went deeper and deeper in. "Holy fuck, fuck, Ray."

All thoughts of touching Frank like he was glass was straight out the window. Ray's grip on Frank became hard enough the bruise. Just the feeling of Frank around him was making him dizzy, and damn near on the verge of bottoming out.

Ray came back to reality once he was fully inside Frank. "Fuck. Fuck, are you okay?" He panted, still squeezing onto Frank.

"Mhm," Frank nodded, struggling to even speak, let alone think. "I'm- I'm okay. Just- ha- c'mon." He moved himself against Ray, which only made him grip Frank tighter. Ray began moving back and forth, his movements slow and deliberant. Frank was taking it way fucking better than he thought he would. He could hardly think, could barely register who he saw in the mirror when he slightly looked up.

Immediately, Ray caught his eye in the mirror. He grinned, moving back his hair before leaning closer to Frank. He kept eye contact in the mirror, slamming into Frank harder with each thrust, earning noises that were always sweeter than the last.

"Look at yourself, Frankie- look-" Ray panted out, "Look so fucking good, God-" He couldn't hold himself back from biting back down on Frank's neck, right next to his scorpion tattoo. Frank practically yelped from the contact, mixed in with Ray's movements that were slowly getting harder and sloppy.

"Shitshitshit, like that, Ray." Frank whined, watching Ray's reflection. He wasn't far off from his second orgasm. He could feel Ray catching up. Frank slithered one of his hands down to his dick, vigorously fucking into his hand.

"Shit, Ray, holy shit- yeah, make me come, so damn good-" Frank's babbles turned into nonsense before coming hard in his own hand. Ray kept his pace- quick, hard, unforgiving. Ray's forehead was propped against Frank's shoulder blade.

He whined against Frank. "Fuck, come on, I'm not done with you yet. Just- just a little bit more,' He forced himself impossibly closer to Frank, his strokes deeper now. "Like that, fuck- Fuck, so good."

Though he was now burying himself into Frank, every snap of his hips harder, Ray's words were just gentle now. Pathetic, almost. Frank was barely registering the words in his ears, only knew they made him feel good.

Ray's hips suddenly hit hard, only managing out words that trailed off into whimpers of Frank's name. Ray tried to pull out, and it worked for the most part. Except for the part that was slightly leaking from Frank's ass and the rest that had dripped onto the floor from Ray's leaking dick.

"Fuck, fuck, sorry." Ray breathed out, his chest heaving as he was still coming down. Frank looked at him through the mirror, his eyes droopy with a small grin.

Ray's natural sense of panic creeped back in. Fuck, how long had it been? The guys were gonna start wondering any minute. Hell, they might break through the door any second.

"It's okay, man. I can see you having a mental anxiety attack." Frank spoke up, slowly standing up and pulling up his pants. "We'll get cleaned up in the bathroom."

Ray pulled up his pants, looking at the mess on the floor. "Uh, what- what about that?"

Frank looked down, then back at Ray. Silently, he looked around the room before grabbing a tissue, throwing it on top of the mess. He looked back at Ray. "You think the janitors got that?"