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Entry tags:
Fic: Ataraxis (MCR, Gerard/Mikey, NC-17)
Title: Ataraxis
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Gerard/Mikey
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Incest
Word count: 1154
Summary: short hurt/comfort fic, where Mikey is feeling terrible and Gerard knows just what he needs.
Gerard hands Mikey a styrofoam cup and Mikey takes it gratefully. He's jumpy and out of it. Gerard gives him a sympathetic, knowing look and sits beside him.
“How bad?” Gerard asks.
Mikey shrugs. Really fucking bad.
No one else comes into the lounge, which Mikey is grateful for. Gerard probably told them Mikey needed his space.
Mikey takes a sip of sugary coffee and closes his eyes, tries to breathe. Reminds himself that it's just his fucked up brain chemistry making him feel the way he does.
“Need something?” Gerard asks, leaning against him. His arm is solid and warm, and Mikey leans back.
Touch is not normally something he can stand when he gets this way, but Gerard is always the exception. Mikey lets his head fall to his brother's shoulder.
“Okay,” Gerard says, just like he's answering a spoken plea. “I'll take care of you.” He runs his hand through Mikey's unwashed hair and kisses his forehead.
Mikey closes his eyes and moves closer, and Gerard shifts until they're cuddled up on the couch, Mikey practically in Gerard's lap. He bends his knees and pulls them up, making himself smaller. He feels small. Small and broken.
Gerard wraps his arms around Mikey protectively with just the right amount of tightness. He takes the cup Mikey is still holding and puts it to the side. Mikey would protest if he wasn't so comfortable.
“Hurts,” Mikey says after several long moments.
“I know,” Gerard says. He's not patronizing like other people are when they say it. He knows from experience what these moods are like.
Mikey feels bad – emotionally, physically. But Gerard keeps petting him, murmuring something soothing. Mikey doesn't understand the actual words. He doesn't need to, though; he knows what Gerard means.
Slowly, the tight knot in his chest begins to loosen. Gerard must feel him relax against him but he doesn't stop, doesn't pull away. He's still there, carding his fingers through Mikey's hair and whispering nonsense.
Mikey takes deep, even breaths. He closes his eyes. He continues to breathe.
“Good,” Gerard murmurs, making Mikey feel warm and safe, like he really is good.
Sometimes Gerard's methods don't work, but today they do.
“Thanks,” Mikey says. He doesn't feel a hundred percent yet, but at least he's relaxed.
Gerard continues running his hand through Mikey's hair, slow and gentle. “Something else?” he asks.
They never talk about it. They don't have to. All Mikey has to do is lean his face up towards Gerard's and Gerard kisses him softly, just a brush of lips against lips.
Mikey's mind has been going around and around all day. Fragmented thoughts, abundant and unwanted, started early in the day and continue to plague him now. But the kiss grounds him, gives him some focus. The hand in his hair moves down to cup the back of his neck, and Mikey sighs into the kiss, giving Gerard an opening.
Gerard licks into his mouth slowly. He always starts out careful and precise, as if he'll make a mistake and Mikey will want to stop. But Mikey never wants to stop. He moves slowly into Gerard's lap, throwing his leg over so he straddles him. Gerard's hands move down to rest at his hips.
“Tell me,” Gerard says, completely open and earnest.
Mikey nips Gerard's bottom lip and then soothes it with his tongue. “I need to stop thinking.”
It's a sort of code between them, invented over the years to describe what they do. Gerard immediately understands. He makes a low sound and pulls Mikey tight against him, then kisses him possessively. Mikey relaxes into it, melting against his brother.
They kiss like this for a long time, until Mikey starts to squirm. His cock is hard in his jeans and he's seeking friction, moving against Gerard. He doesn't have to ask for anything, but he does because he likes to.
“Please,” Mikey breathes. Not desperately, he's not there yet. He's not ready to beg. But he likes to ask, because Gerard's eyes always go darker when he does.
Gerard rocks up against him hard and kisses him harder. He moves a hand between them and pops open Mikey's fly. “This what you want?” he asks, even though he already knows.
But Mikey follows the formula and nods, then says it again. “Please, Gee.” He likes the way the words feel in his mouth, submission slipping off his tongue.
Gerard's hand is warm and capable, the kind of hand you really want on your cock. He starts by just holding Mikey in a loose grip, his fingers curled around the cock like they own it. Mikey bites his lip, trying to be patient, but then he rocks up into Gerard's hand restlessly.
“Be good,” Gerard says. “You know I'll take care of you.”
Mikey does know. He lets his head drop onto Gerard's shoulder, and that's when Gerard begins to stroke. His hand works in slow, even movements, not a tease but not quite what Mikey needs, either.
“More, please,” Mikey whispers. He nuzzles Gerard's neck, kisses the skin that tastes like dry sweat.
Gerard tightens his hand and speeds his stroking. It's good, it's so good. He knows just how to touch Mikey and bring him closer to the edge, an edge that wasn't even in view a minute ago. Mikey moans softly against Gerard's neck.
“Feels good?” Gerard asks.
“Mmm,” Mikey says, and licks Gerard's salty neck.
Gerard shivers and tightens his hand around Mikey's cock, pulling hard and fast now. It's just right, just perfect, and Mikey presses his forehead against Gerard's and says, “Kiss me?”
It's sloppy on Mikey's end and wet and hot, tongues slicking together fervently. Mikey whimpers against Gerard's mouth and then he's coming hard, spurting into Gerard's hand.
Mikey goes boneless in Gerard's arms, slumping on him. Gerard might laugh, Mikey's not entirely sure, and then he's moving him to lay longways on the sofa.
Gerard even does up Mikey's jeans for him, still taking care of him.
“You want...?” Mikey asks, thinking he could probably move in a few hours to give Gerard a blowjob.
Gerard doesn't answer, just asks, “How do you feel now?”
Mikey checks himself. His body is relaxed, his mind quiet. His heart doesn't feel like it's being squeezed in a vise anymore. He nods, slow and hesitant. “Much better.”
His eyes are closing without his permission. He blinks hard and looks blearily at Gerard.
“Get some rest,” Gerard says. “You didn't sleep last night, did you?”
Mikey finally lets his eyes close and shakes his head. He's already drifting, darkness taking over.
The last thing he's aware of is the press of lips to his forehead and a soft stroke to his hair.
End
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Gerard/Mikey
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Incest
Word count: 1154
Summary: short hurt/comfort fic, where Mikey is feeling terrible and Gerard knows just what he needs.
Gerard hands Mikey a styrofoam cup and Mikey takes it gratefully. He's jumpy and out of it. Gerard gives him a sympathetic, knowing look and sits beside him.
“How bad?” Gerard asks.
Mikey shrugs. Really fucking bad.
No one else comes into the lounge, which Mikey is grateful for. Gerard probably told them Mikey needed his space.
Mikey takes a sip of sugary coffee and closes his eyes, tries to breathe. Reminds himself that it's just his fucked up brain chemistry making him feel the way he does.
“Need something?” Gerard asks, leaning against him. His arm is solid and warm, and Mikey leans back.
Touch is not normally something he can stand when he gets this way, but Gerard is always the exception. Mikey lets his head fall to his brother's shoulder.
“Okay,” Gerard says, just like he's answering a spoken plea. “I'll take care of you.” He runs his hand through Mikey's unwashed hair and kisses his forehead.
Mikey closes his eyes and moves closer, and Gerard shifts until they're cuddled up on the couch, Mikey practically in Gerard's lap. He bends his knees and pulls them up, making himself smaller. He feels small. Small and broken.
Gerard wraps his arms around Mikey protectively with just the right amount of tightness. He takes the cup Mikey is still holding and puts it to the side. Mikey would protest if he wasn't so comfortable.
“Hurts,” Mikey says after several long moments.
“I know,” Gerard says. He's not patronizing like other people are when they say it. He knows from experience what these moods are like.
Mikey feels bad – emotionally, physically. But Gerard keeps petting him, murmuring something soothing. Mikey doesn't understand the actual words. He doesn't need to, though; he knows what Gerard means.
Slowly, the tight knot in his chest begins to loosen. Gerard must feel him relax against him but he doesn't stop, doesn't pull away. He's still there, carding his fingers through Mikey's hair and whispering nonsense.
Mikey takes deep, even breaths. He closes his eyes. He continues to breathe.
“Good,” Gerard murmurs, making Mikey feel warm and safe, like he really is good.
Sometimes Gerard's methods don't work, but today they do.
“Thanks,” Mikey says. He doesn't feel a hundred percent yet, but at least he's relaxed.
Gerard continues running his hand through Mikey's hair, slow and gentle. “Something else?” he asks.
They never talk about it. They don't have to. All Mikey has to do is lean his face up towards Gerard's and Gerard kisses him softly, just a brush of lips against lips.
Mikey's mind has been going around and around all day. Fragmented thoughts, abundant and unwanted, started early in the day and continue to plague him now. But the kiss grounds him, gives him some focus. The hand in his hair moves down to cup the back of his neck, and Mikey sighs into the kiss, giving Gerard an opening.
Gerard licks into his mouth slowly. He always starts out careful and precise, as if he'll make a mistake and Mikey will want to stop. But Mikey never wants to stop. He moves slowly into Gerard's lap, throwing his leg over so he straddles him. Gerard's hands move down to rest at his hips.
“Tell me,” Gerard says, completely open and earnest.
Mikey nips Gerard's bottom lip and then soothes it with his tongue. “I need to stop thinking.”
It's a sort of code between them, invented over the years to describe what they do. Gerard immediately understands. He makes a low sound and pulls Mikey tight against him, then kisses him possessively. Mikey relaxes into it, melting against his brother.
They kiss like this for a long time, until Mikey starts to squirm. His cock is hard in his jeans and he's seeking friction, moving against Gerard. He doesn't have to ask for anything, but he does because he likes to.
“Please,” Mikey breathes. Not desperately, he's not there yet. He's not ready to beg. But he likes to ask, because Gerard's eyes always go darker when he does.
Gerard rocks up against him hard and kisses him harder. He moves a hand between them and pops open Mikey's fly. “This what you want?” he asks, even though he already knows.
But Mikey follows the formula and nods, then says it again. “Please, Gee.” He likes the way the words feel in his mouth, submission slipping off his tongue.
Gerard's hand is warm and capable, the kind of hand you really want on your cock. He starts by just holding Mikey in a loose grip, his fingers curled around the cock like they own it. Mikey bites his lip, trying to be patient, but then he rocks up into Gerard's hand restlessly.
“Be good,” Gerard says. “You know I'll take care of you.”
Mikey does know. He lets his head drop onto Gerard's shoulder, and that's when Gerard begins to stroke. His hand works in slow, even movements, not a tease but not quite what Mikey needs, either.
“More, please,” Mikey whispers. He nuzzles Gerard's neck, kisses the skin that tastes like dry sweat.
Gerard tightens his hand and speeds his stroking. It's good, it's so good. He knows just how to touch Mikey and bring him closer to the edge, an edge that wasn't even in view a minute ago. Mikey moans softly against Gerard's neck.
“Feels good?” Gerard asks.
“Mmm,” Mikey says, and licks Gerard's salty neck.
Gerard shivers and tightens his hand around Mikey's cock, pulling hard and fast now. It's just right, just perfect, and Mikey presses his forehead against Gerard's and says, “Kiss me?”
It's sloppy on Mikey's end and wet and hot, tongues slicking together fervently. Mikey whimpers against Gerard's mouth and then he's coming hard, spurting into Gerard's hand.
Mikey goes boneless in Gerard's arms, slumping on him. Gerard might laugh, Mikey's not entirely sure, and then he's moving him to lay longways on the sofa.
Gerard even does up Mikey's jeans for him, still taking care of him.
“You want...?” Mikey asks, thinking he could probably move in a few hours to give Gerard a blowjob.
Gerard doesn't answer, just asks, “How do you feel now?”
Mikey checks himself. His body is relaxed, his mind quiet. His heart doesn't feel like it's being squeezed in a vise anymore. He nods, slow and hesitant. “Much better.”
His eyes are closing without his permission. He blinks hard and looks blearily at Gerard.
“Get some rest,” Gerard says. “You didn't sleep last night, did you?”
Mikey finally lets his eyes close and shakes his head. He's already drifting, darkness taking over.
The last thing he's aware of is the press of lips to his forehead and a soft stroke to his hair.
End