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14 October 2012 @ 11:35 pm
FICLET: Oxford Comma  
OXFORD COMMA
as_they_wait


Frank/Mikey, R, ~700
"He won't even look at me half of the time. It's like he's not even interested in me any more. I don't know what's changed," he explains, pouring out all of his confusion and desperation to the artist.

I do not own these people, and this has never actually happened. Don't sue me for having an imagination.
This contains a little sexual content and references to bipolar disorder.


Written for mission_insane

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Mikey stares blankly at him. "What?" he asks apathetically. He doesn't understand what's wrong.

Frank sighs loudly. "You know what? Fine. Fuck you. I don't care," he snaps before turning around and walking briskly out of the room. Mikey stares after him for a few moments before shrugging to himself and going back to watching the television. Dawn Of The Dead is on. It's his favorite movie, so of course he's watching it. He's glad Frank decided to leave him alone.

He can hear Frank's voice in the other room. He must be on the phone. "Gee, I don't know what to do any more." He sounds like he's crying. Mikey reaches for the remote and turns the volume on the TV up louder. Whatever Frank is saying is drowned out by the sound of a chainsaw revving up.

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Frank sobs into Gerard's chest. "He won't even look at me half of the time. It's like he's not even interested in me any more. I don't know what's changed," he explains, pouring out all of his confusion and desperation to the artist.

Gerard rubs his back gently. "It's probably something with his meds, Frankie. They're supposed to mellow him out, so maybe they're a little too strong or something. Talk to Dr. Archwood about it. I'm sure she'll be able to adjust the dosage, and then he'll be just fine."

"What if that's not it?" Frank asks fearfully. "What if it really is me?"

"Frankie, he loves you. Nothing you or anyone else did could possibly change that. It's got to be the pills," Gerard says firmly, sounding so certain.

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"Mikey, come on, let's have a little fun," Frank whines, kissing Mikey's face. They haven't had sex in weeks, and it's driving him fucking insane.

Mikey raises an eyebrow. "Fun?" he asks blithely.

Frank puts his hand on Mikey's belt, prepared to take it off. "The sexy kind," he says, kissing his jaw.

"I don't know, Frank," he says in the same monotone.

Frank can't help the whining noise he makes. He starts working on Mikey's belt anyway. "Come on, we haven't had sex in so long. You don't even have to do anything. I'll ride you. Come on, please, Mikey."

Mikey nods slowly. "Yeah, okay."

"Awesome," Frank says with a grin. He gets the belt off and pulls down Mikey's jeans. Mikey isn't hard at all. Frank tells himself that it's okay, that he'll just have to work for a it a bit more, but of course Mikey will come around, because Frank is really hot and knows how to make guys feel amazing.

Frank takes off his own clothes and then palms Mikey's cock. It doesn't seem to be working, and Mikey isn't even looking at him. After another five minutes or so, Frank just gives up. "Are you doing this on purpose or something?" he asks, frustrated.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you like trying not to get hard or something? Like seriously, you're fucking driving me crazy, Mikey," Frank says.

Mikey frowns. "I'm not doing anything, Frank."

Frank sighs. "Can I at least fuck you or something?"

Mikey's frown only deepens. "No, of course not."

"Fuck!" Frank yells. "You're so fucking... Ugh!"

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"He wouldn't even look at me, Gee," Frank sobs. "He just sort of stared off blankly into space."

Gerard bites his lip. "Did Dr. Archwood lower his dosage?"

"Yeah, but nothing's changed. He's still different. He just doesn't care anymore, Gee."

"I'm sure he does," Gerard says softly. He wants to have faith in his brother, but he can see in Frank's eyes how far things have slipped.

Frank shakes his head. "Gee, he won't look at me. He won't talk to me. All he does is watch TV and go to work and sleep. Whenever I ask his opinion, he doesn't care. I haven't gotten off in a fucking month, and we used to have sex every day."

Gerard frowns. "This is about sex?"

Frank glares at him. "No, of course not." He sighs. "At least, not completely. That sort of makes it more frustrating, but it's not the root of our problems."

"Are you going to leave him?" Gerard sounds anxious and worried, and Frank doesn't really blame him.

"I don't know."

Gerard looks him in the eyes, and Frank can see the desperation there, as if this was Gerard's relationship to save. "He'd be devastated."

Frank takes a deep breath. "I can't do this anymore."

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Note: Written for the lost prompt off the angst table. The title was inspired by the Vampire Weekend song of the same title. Also, I'm not dead. Woot!
 
 
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