FIC: MCR - Just One of The Guys - PG
Jul. 2nd, 2011 06:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laniew1Hmmm… I’ve got nothing. The last 20 pages or so of Jericho about killed me, so I wrote something fluffy-ish.
Always a girl Frankie and the boys of My Chem.
There will be more of this, eventually.
Summary: The length of Frankie’s skirts don’t have any direct ties to how many times and how strongly Gerard insists she’s ‘just one of the guys’ except when they do.
With bonus Pete Wentz
TITLE: Just One of The Guys
RATING: PG (for language)
PAIRING: Gerard/Lindsey, Mikey/Alicia, pre-Frankie/Pete, Frankie/Pete/Mikey/Alicia
AUTHOR: Melanie
Summary: The length of Frankie’s skirts don’t have any direct ties to how many times and how strongly Gerard insists she’s ‘just one of the guys’ except when they do.
DISCLAIMER: They own themselves, I have no claims on them.
FEEDBACK: Please?
Just One of The Guys
By Melanie
“Do you think Gerard does it on purpose?” Ray asks. Mikey bites his lip and narrows his eyes. Gerard is on a phone interview and the interviewer can’t actually see him but he has his earnest face on and is completely ignoring them just the same.
“Frankie’s not like other girls, she’s more one of the guys then a girl that just happens to be in a band,” he says, he only says that when he’s doing a solo interview. If he says it during an interview where Frankie’s sitting to his left she normally punches him in the arm.
She’s a guitarist; she packs a hell of a wallop.
That statement, the one about Frankie being one of the guys, is normally preceded by a reporter wanting confirmation or another denial that him and Frankie aren’t fucking.
They aren’t, but no one seems to believe that.
Frankie’s a girl and Gerard is their lead singer so of course they have to be screwing like bunnies.
Mikey glances over at where Frankie is looking at Gerard from her perch by the table and there’s a gleam in her eyes that Mikey wishes he didn’t recognize.
The amount of times and the emphasis that Gerard uses in stating that Frankie is ‘just one of the guys’ is almost directly proportional to the length or lack thereof of the skirt that Frankie will wear on stage that night. There’s been a couple of times that the only thing that saved them from a public indecency charge is the fact that Frankie has a fraction of modesty and wears bicycle shorts and ripped tights underneath them.
“He’s not doing it on purpose,” Mikey says.
He knows this, because he’s the one that will have to listen to Gerard rant about Frankie over-sexualizing herself and wondering where her need for the miniskirts stems from.
Mikey normally bites his lip a lot and stares very intently at his phone, he doesn’t tell his brother, whom he loves and adores, that he’s a fucking idiot.
“Sometimes I really miss the days of the Black Parade uniforms,” Ray sighs.
Mikey does too, though he doesn’t miss the exhaustion and the sweating and the near constant media attention… but he also misses the days where Gerard wasn’t married, where he didn’t have a child and there might actually be a chance that he would pull his head out of his ass and see what was right in front of him.
He wouldn’t, Mikey knows this, Gerard defines oblivious and Frankie’s been listening to him spout off his ‘one of the guys’ statements for so long that she actually thinks he believes it.
If he’d known they were both going to be so stupid he would have made a move on Frankie back when Frankie was still part of Pencey.
*
Frankie loves hotel nights more for the shower then the fact that she gets a single room almost always. She used to share and participate in the coin toss just like everyone else, but then people started paying attention to them and by extension to how they interact with each other and who slept in whose room and it just wasn’t worth the hassle.
Now the only time she shares a room with anyone is when she’s sick and they take shifts to make sure she doesn’t die in her sleep because her body crapped out on her.
She bows her head and closes her eyes and lets the water beat down on the top of her head and shoulders.
She doesn’t think, because even though he’s not their manager anymore Brian had made her sign something that said she had to have the approval of at least two other band members and they both couldn’t be Way’s if she wanted to do something that required forethought.
*
Gerard is on his knees in front of her, Danger Day’s doesn’t have the same sound and same pull that Black Parade or Three Cheers had, and he’s married now but sometimes the energy of the show or the crowd drives him down in front of her.
It always feels sort of inevitable and it never goes any further then that, because even though Lindsey has said that she’s okay with whatever happens on-stage, he’s not okay with it.
Touching Frankie on stage; as natural as it felt when he was doing it and as unnatural as it felt when he was making a concerted effort to not to; had felt like a prelude to fucking up something good in his life even when he and Lindsey were just kind of dating.
He’s not sure why he’s doing it now, maybe it’s the hum of the crowd, the energy and the screaming. Frankie’s wearing one of the shortest skirts in her wardrobe and he keeps meaning to ask Mikey if there’s someone on the crew that Frankie likes or is seeing but he doesn’t ever because he really doesn’t want to know the answer.
Frankie stares down at him, her eyes gleam and she leans forward like she’s going to kiss his forehead or nuzzle his hair or something else that they’ve done hundreds of times before. Instead she stops, bites her lip, narrows her eyes and twirls away.
He can’t help but feel like he just fucked something up because for the rest of the show Frankie doesn’t move away from her mike or her side of the stage except for the times that Gerard saunters over there.
He makes eye contact with Mikey during a three second break between songs and Mikey’s eyebrows arch at him and Gerard shakes his head once.
He doesn’t have a fucking clue what he did.
*
Frankie is curled up in the corner of the couch; hood pulled up and ear buds in. It’s a sure sign that she doesn’t want to be disturbed but Mikey has never paid much attention to that.
He pulls out one of the buds and puts it in his own ear, then tugs until Frankie curls up against him instead of the arm of the couch, she lays her head on his shoulder after only a moments hesitation and she sighs loudly.
It’s her ‘I don’t want to talk so stop trying to make me, Mikeyway’ sigh. He lets her listen to her music and tries not to wince at the volume. He’ll let her have two songs, by then she’ll be ready to talk or he’ll be deaf.
“I kind of thought…” she starts and stops, her fingers play with a string pulling loose on his sweatshirt.
“I know,” he says, he lays his cheek against the top of her head and closes his eyes; this is as close as he gets to having Frankie. Alicia has been yelling at him for years that he’s a moron and he’s not sure that if he were to bring Frankie home if it would be for him or for her anymore.
“I actually want to be happy for him, you know,” she mutters. “I mean Lindsey is pretty fucking awesome, it’s just…”
“I know,” he says again, he lets her curl further into him and doesn’t tell her to turn her music down.
*
If it weren’t for the fact that he knows Pete, and he knows that Pete respects the sanctity of marriage, well he would think that Pete was following them around using his own tour as a cover.
He’s not, but they keep ending up in the same city and the last two times there’d been conflicts that kept him from being able to go to the Black Cards show even though he had tickets that he’d bought with his own fucking money.
“Where are you going?” Frankie appears out of nowhere, she’s wearing jeans with a hole in one knee and a rip up the side of one thigh and a t-shirt that he thinks might actually have been one of Bob’s.
“Nowhere,” he says, he doesn’t look at his watch or fidget or do anything that might draw any further attention to him, Frankie just looks at him, nose wrinkling as she studies him.
“I want to come,” she says finally.
“I’m not doing anything,” he says. She snorts at him.
“Alicia told me that you have two tickets to the Black Cards show and to make sure you actually made it this time because she’s tired of listening to you bitch about spending your hard-earned money on tickets you don’t get to use,” she smirks at him and he laments the day that Frankie and Alicia ever met and became friends.
*
Frankie keeps her hoodie up and she’d probably put on sunglasses if the venue weren’t so dark and it wasn’t a surefire way to get them noticed.
She wants to be down in the pit, dancing and thrashing and letting go. She stays with Mikey though, the music thrums and she bounces as much as her steel toe boots will let her.
She doesn’t know if Pete knows that Mikey is out there but he’s all smiles and innuendo’s and he doesn’t lay on Bebe as much as he used to on Patrick but she’s still kind of new. Frankie gives it another six months before he’ll be all up in her space.
Though with the divorce going on and everything she has a feeling that Pete is going to keep his distance romantically from anyone until it’s over with.
She gets pushed into from behind and she goes to whirl around and bitch someone out, only stopping when Mikey puts an arm over her shoulder and tugs her in front of him. He leaves his arms draped over her, linking his hands together in front of her.
She tilts her head so she can peer up at him and he’s staring at the stage, doesn’t in any way acknowledge her except for the twitching of his lips.
She grins and pulls on his hands until she can link their fingers together. Leans back and lets Mikey support most if not all her weight and watches while Pete eats up the stage and spits it back out.
*
Mikey does some convoluted hand wavy thing at the side of the stage and gets them access to backstage. Frankie’s not paying any attention because she’s trying to break free of Mikey’s grip on her hand and figure out where the beer is located.
She gets tugged along behind him and she opens her mouth to say something derogatory about his manhood but never gets a word out because a missile in the form of Pete Wentz launches itself at them and Mikey staggers back and Frankie gets backed into the wall.
She feels hands on her hips keeping her from going down and when she turns Bebe is grinning at her.
“Sorry about that,” she says. “Pete didn’t think that Mikey was going to show up.”
Frankie glances over at where Pete is wound around Mikey talking a mile a minute, Mikey nodding his head periodically. He looks amused and Frankie grins.
“I was looking for beer,” she says. “But Mikey wouldn’t let go of my hand.”
Bebe jerks her head in a way that Frankie thinks means she knows where beer can be found and starts off down a hallway. Frankie looks at where Mikey and Pete are completely oblivious to anything but themselves and follows her.
*
“Frankie Iero,” she has her second beer in front of her, feet propped up on a chair. “You came all the way to see us but you don’t even say hi?”
Frankie grins. “Well you were all intent on molesting Mikey, and I need all my fingers to play guitar,” she waggles the fingers of her left hand at him. “Also I wanted something to drink.”
Pete smirks at her and Mikey rolls his eyes.
“We don’t rate one of your short skirts?” Pete asks, he looks sad. “I’m oddly bereft.”
“Have you given an interview where you insinuate I’m not a girl lately?”
“No.”
Frankie smirks at him, “you give an interview where you do and manage to not get the fangirls and the gossip mongers all a flutter in the process and I’ll wear the shortest skirt in my arsenal for you.”
Pete narrows his eyes at her and Frankie beams at him, Mikey is shaking his head and looking like he wants to bang his head against a brick wall.
Frankie sips at her beer and raises an eyebrow.
“You’re on.”
Always a girl Frankie and the boys of My Chem.
There will be more of this, eventually.
Summary: The length of Frankie’s skirts don’t have any direct ties to how many times and how strongly Gerard insists she’s ‘just one of the guys’ except when they do.
With bonus Pete Wentz
TITLE: Just One of The Guys
RATING: PG (for language)
PAIRING: Gerard/Lindsey, Mikey/Alicia, pre-Frankie/Pete, Frankie/Pete/Mikey/Alicia
AUTHOR: Melanie
Summary: The length of Frankie’s skirts don’t have any direct ties to how many times and how strongly Gerard insists she’s ‘just one of the guys’ except when they do.
DISCLAIMER: They own themselves, I have no claims on them.
FEEDBACK: Please?
Just One of The Guys
By Melanie
“Do you think Gerard does it on purpose?” Ray asks. Mikey bites his lip and narrows his eyes. Gerard is on a phone interview and the interviewer can’t actually see him but he has his earnest face on and is completely ignoring them just the same.
“Frankie’s not like other girls, she’s more one of the guys then a girl that just happens to be in a band,” he says, he only says that when he’s doing a solo interview. If he says it during an interview where Frankie’s sitting to his left she normally punches him in the arm.
She’s a guitarist; she packs a hell of a wallop.
That statement, the one about Frankie being one of the guys, is normally preceded by a reporter wanting confirmation or another denial that him and Frankie aren’t fucking.
They aren’t, but no one seems to believe that.
Frankie’s a girl and Gerard is their lead singer so of course they have to be screwing like bunnies.
Mikey glances over at where Frankie is looking at Gerard from her perch by the table and there’s a gleam in her eyes that Mikey wishes he didn’t recognize.
The amount of times and the emphasis that Gerard uses in stating that Frankie is ‘just one of the guys’ is almost directly proportional to the length or lack thereof of the skirt that Frankie will wear on stage that night. There’s been a couple of times that the only thing that saved them from a public indecency charge is the fact that Frankie has a fraction of modesty and wears bicycle shorts and ripped tights underneath them.
“He’s not doing it on purpose,” Mikey says.
He knows this, because he’s the one that will have to listen to Gerard rant about Frankie over-sexualizing herself and wondering where her need for the miniskirts stems from.
Mikey normally bites his lip a lot and stares very intently at his phone, he doesn’t tell his brother, whom he loves and adores, that he’s a fucking idiot.
“Sometimes I really miss the days of the Black Parade uniforms,” Ray sighs.
Mikey does too, though he doesn’t miss the exhaustion and the sweating and the near constant media attention… but he also misses the days where Gerard wasn’t married, where he didn’t have a child and there might actually be a chance that he would pull his head out of his ass and see what was right in front of him.
He wouldn’t, Mikey knows this, Gerard defines oblivious and Frankie’s been listening to him spout off his ‘one of the guys’ statements for so long that she actually thinks he believes it.
If he’d known they were both going to be so stupid he would have made a move on Frankie back when Frankie was still part of Pencey.
*
Frankie loves hotel nights more for the shower then the fact that she gets a single room almost always. She used to share and participate in the coin toss just like everyone else, but then people started paying attention to them and by extension to how they interact with each other and who slept in whose room and it just wasn’t worth the hassle.
Now the only time she shares a room with anyone is when she’s sick and they take shifts to make sure she doesn’t die in her sleep because her body crapped out on her.
She bows her head and closes her eyes and lets the water beat down on the top of her head and shoulders.
She doesn’t think, because even though he’s not their manager anymore Brian had made her sign something that said she had to have the approval of at least two other band members and they both couldn’t be Way’s if she wanted to do something that required forethought.
*
Gerard is on his knees in front of her, Danger Day’s doesn’t have the same sound and same pull that Black Parade or Three Cheers had, and he’s married now but sometimes the energy of the show or the crowd drives him down in front of her.
It always feels sort of inevitable and it never goes any further then that, because even though Lindsey has said that she’s okay with whatever happens on-stage, he’s not okay with it.
Touching Frankie on stage; as natural as it felt when he was doing it and as unnatural as it felt when he was making a concerted effort to not to; had felt like a prelude to fucking up something good in his life even when he and Lindsey were just kind of dating.
He’s not sure why he’s doing it now, maybe it’s the hum of the crowd, the energy and the screaming. Frankie’s wearing one of the shortest skirts in her wardrobe and he keeps meaning to ask Mikey if there’s someone on the crew that Frankie likes or is seeing but he doesn’t ever because he really doesn’t want to know the answer.
Frankie stares down at him, her eyes gleam and she leans forward like she’s going to kiss his forehead or nuzzle his hair or something else that they’ve done hundreds of times before. Instead she stops, bites her lip, narrows her eyes and twirls away.
He can’t help but feel like he just fucked something up because for the rest of the show Frankie doesn’t move away from her mike or her side of the stage except for the times that Gerard saunters over there.
He makes eye contact with Mikey during a three second break between songs and Mikey’s eyebrows arch at him and Gerard shakes his head once.
He doesn’t have a fucking clue what he did.
*
Frankie is curled up in the corner of the couch; hood pulled up and ear buds in. It’s a sure sign that she doesn’t want to be disturbed but Mikey has never paid much attention to that.
He pulls out one of the buds and puts it in his own ear, then tugs until Frankie curls up against him instead of the arm of the couch, she lays her head on his shoulder after only a moments hesitation and she sighs loudly.
It’s her ‘I don’t want to talk so stop trying to make me, Mikeyway’ sigh. He lets her listen to her music and tries not to wince at the volume. He’ll let her have two songs, by then she’ll be ready to talk or he’ll be deaf.
“I kind of thought…” she starts and stops, her fingers play with a string pulling loose on his sweatshirt.
“I know,” he says, he lays his cheek against the top of her head and closes his eyes; this is as close as he gets to having Frankie. Alicia has been yelling at him for years that he’s a moron and he’s not sure that if he were to bring Frankie home if it would be for him or for her anymore.
“I actually want to be happy for him, you know,” she mutters. “I mean Lindsey is pretty fucking awesome, it’s just…”
“I know,” he says again, he lets her curl further into him and doesn’t tell her to turn her music down.
*
If it weren’t for the fact that he knows Pete, and he knows that Pete respects the sanctity of marriage, well he would think that Pete was following them around using his own tour as a cover.
He’s not, but they keep ending up in the same city and the last two times there’d been conflicts that kept him from being able to go to the Black Cards show even though he had tickets that he’d bought with his own fucking money.
“Where are you going?” Frankie appears out of nowhere, she’s wearing jeans with a hole in one knee and a rip up the side of one thigh and a t-shirt that he thinks might actually have been one of Bob’s.
“Nowhere,” he says, he doesn’t look at his watch or fidget or do anything that might draw any further attention to him, Frankie just looks at him, nose wrinkling as she studies him.
“I want to come,” she says finally.
“I’m not doing anything,” he says. She snorts at him.
“Alicia told me that you have two tickets to the Black Cards show and to make sure you actually made it this time because she’s tired of listening to you bitch about spending your hard-earned money on tickets you don’t get to use,” she smirks at him and he laments the day that Frankie and Alicia ever met and became friends.
*
Frankie keeps her hoodie up and she’d probably put on sunglasses if the venue weren’t so dark and it wasn’t a surefire way to get them noticed.
She wants to be down in the pit, dancing and thrashing and letting go. She stays with Mikey though, the music thrums and she bounces as much as her steel toe boots will let her.
She doesn’t know if Pete knows that Mikey is out there but he’s all smiles and innuendo’s and he doesn’t lay on Bebe as much as he used to on Patrick but she’s still kind of new. Frankie gives it another six months before he’ll be all up in her space.
Though with the divorce going on and everything she has a feeling that Pete is going to keep his distance romantically from anyone until it’s over with.
She gets pushed into from behind and she goes to whirl around and bitch someone out, only stopping when Mikey puts an arm over her shoulder and tugs her in front of him. He leaves his arms draped over her, linking his hands together in front of her.
She tilts her head so she can peer up at him and he’s staring at the stage, doesn’t in any way acknowledge her except for the twitching of his lips.
She grins and pulls on his hands until she can link their fingers together. Leans back and lets Mikey support most if not all her weight and watches while Pete eats up the stage and spits it back out.
*
Mikey does some convoluted hand wavy thing at the side of the stage and gets them access to backstage. Frankie’s not paying any attention because she’s trying to break free of Mikey’s grip on her hand and figure out where the beer is located.
She gets tugged along behind him and she opens her mouth to say something derogatory about his manhood but never gets a word out because a missile in the form of Pete Wentz launches itself at them and Mikey staggers back and Frankie gets backed into the wall.
She feels hands on her hips keeping her from going down and when she turns Bebe is grinning at her.
“Sorry about that,” she says. “Pete didn’t think that Mikey was going to show up.”
Frankie glances over at where Pete is wound around Mikey talking a mile a minute, Mikey nodding his head periodically. He looks amused and Frankie grins.
“I was looking for beer,” she says. “But Mikey wouldn’t let go of my hand.”
Bebe jerks her head in a way that Frankie thinks means she knows where beer can be found and starts off down a hallway. Frankie looks at where Mikey and Pete are completely oblivious to anything but themselves and follows her.
*
“Frankie Iero,” she has her second beer in front of her, feet propped up on a chair. “You came all the way to see us but you don’t even say hi?”
Frankie grins. “Well you were all intent on molesting Mikey, and I need all my fingers to play guitar,” she waggles the fingers of her left hand at him. “Also I wanted something to drink.”
Pete smirks at her and Mikey rolls his eyes.
“We don’t rate one of your short skirts?” Pete asks, he looks sad. “I’m oddly bereft.”
“Have you given an interview where you insinuate I’m not a girl lately?”
“No.”
Frankie smirks at him, “you give an interview where you do and manage to not get the fangirls and the gossip mongers all a flutter in the process and I’ll wear the shortest skirt in my arsenal for you.”
Pete narrows his eyes at her and Frankie beams at him, Mikey is shaking his head and looking like he wants to bang his head against a brick wall.
Frankie sips at her beer and raises an eyebrow.
“You’re on.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-15 09:59 pm (UTC)The scenes with Pete were awesome too.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-03 12:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-09 08:31 am (UTC)“Have you given an interview where you insinuate I’m not a girl lately?”
lol