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    Gerard is wearing makeup. Mikey couldn’t tell at first when Gerard stumbling down the stairs woke him up, but now, with his glasses on in the light of the clicked-on bedside table lamp that illuminates only his brother’s face, he can tell that Gerard is definitely wearing eyeshadow and eyeliner and some kind of tinted lip gloss. He wasn’t wearing them when he left.

    “Gee?” he says at the shadowy form. “What time is it?” Gerard doesn’t respond with words. He just giggles, that stupid little high giggle he does when he and Frank have been smoking something besides cigarettes together. Mikey groans and watches, bleary eyed, as Gerard leans against the wall and tries to kick off his shoes.

    He doesn’t smell like weed; Mikey notes this after Gerard has succeeded in besting his shoes and starts crawling into Mikey’s lap, bypassing his own bed in the process. He smells vaguely fruity, actually. “What’d you take?” he asks, even as Gerard is straddling him, pushing him back down to lie flat on the bed. Pressed up against his body like this, Mikey can tell that Gerard is already hard, maybe has been since he walked in the door, maybe has been since whatever he took kicked in.

    “Shhh,” Gerard huffs, warm and wet against the side of his neck. Mikey’s cock is interested in this turn of events, and it firmly kicks his logical side to the curb when Gerard’s tongue flicks out of his mouth to glide along the pulse at the base of his neck.

    “Fuck,” Mikey groans. He brings one hand up and grabs at the back of Gerard’s head. At the end of a broken moan he makes one last attempt to be The Responsible One. “Honey, what’d you take.”

     Gerard whines, presses down against Mikey so his hardon rubs up against the tent in Mikey’s pajamas. He kisses up Mikey’s neck, leaving a wet trail of gloss and spit. “No talking,” he slurs. “Fuck me.”

    Mikey groans and arches up against Gerard’s weight on his cock. He uses his grip on Gerard’ hair to tug him up until he’s sitting upright again. He looks ruined already. His stringy black hair is stuck to his forehead. His cheeks are red, pupils blown so wide that they melt into the hazel of his irises. His mouth is red and wet where it’s hanging open, and there’s lip gloss smeared off the side of his mouth, making his cheek and chin shiny.

    “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” Mikey curses. He shuffles until he’s sitting propped up against the headboard. “C’mere.”

    “‘D never hurt you,” Gerard is saying earnestly even as Mikey drags him closer. He kisses violently, feels like the desperation is rolling off of Gerard and infecting him as well. He tastes like fake strawberries, the lip gloss, and Mikey sucks it off his bottom lip, licks it out of his mouth like he’s dying for it.

   He reaches back, grabs a handful of Gerard’s ass and thigh and squeezes. “Fuckin’ jeans,” he swears. Gerard just whines lolls his tongue out against whatever skin he can find while Mikey fights with his pants. He licks at Mikey’s cheek, his forehead, leaves a sticky, shiny spot on his ear. When Mikey finally manages to get Gerard’s pants open, half his face is covered in his brother’s spit and lip gloss.

    “Fucking oral freak,” he says fondly. “C’mon, down.” He pushes, and Gerard willing falls to the side. Before he can do anything else, Mikey gets up and grabs his hips. “Over, c’mon, up, like this.” As he speaks, Mikey moves Gerard to roll onto his stomach and get his hips up high enough that Mikey can pull his jeans halfway down his thighs. That’s all he needs.

    The sound Gerard makes when Mikey presses a thumb up against his hole could probably wake the dead. Sounds like it was ripped out of him. Mikey puts his other and comfortingly on Gerard’s hip. “Shh, shhh, baby,” he says. “You’re gonna wake up the whole damn neighborhood.” Gerard’s response to that is another moan, but he at least buries this one in the mattress. Mikey leans over a bit and spits, gives himself enough lubrication to rub his thumb teasingly against Gerard’s hole.

    Gerard whines into the bedsheets as Mikey blindly reaches for the lube amongst the million and one coffee mugs and empty bottles and expensive markers that litter the table between their beds in the basement. He’s not willing to tear his eyes away from Gerard’s twitching hole and shaky thighs. He knocks something on the floor and topples at least two bottles, but finally his fingers close around the familiar--and always somewhat slippery--tube he’s been looking for.

    Fingering his big brother has always been an exercise in conflicting emotions for Mikey, choosing between giving Gerard what he wants as fast as possible or making him work for it. On one hand, he would shoot the moon out of the sky if Gerard asked him to. On the other, Gerard is sososo so pretty when he begs.

    He takes the fast and dirty method tonight. Does the bare minimum of what he’s comfortable with before he gives into Gerard’s near incomprehensible mumblings of,” Pleasepleaseplease,” and,” I’m ready,” and,“ Mikey.”

    They both make near identical moans when Mikey slides inside. Gerard’s is higher, maybe, more satisfied, and he starts echoing it every time Mikey pushes into him. “Fuck, Gee,” Mikey says, pressing his forehead up against Gerard’s back. He reaches around, wraps a sloppy hand around Gerard’s leaking cock.

    When Gerard turns his head and grabs at Mikey’s hair, Mikey quite willingly twists to kiss him. There’s eyeliner smudged horribly around his eyes and on the sheet where his face had been. He’s beautiful.

    “Why’d you get all girly pretty,” Mikey asks against Gerard’s lips, only half expecting an answer.

    “Fuck me better when I do,” Gerard says. He ends the statement with a moan as Mikey’s thrusts pick up speed.

    “God, you’re such a whore ,” Mikey says, with as much adoration in his voice as he can muster. He kisses the curve of Gerard’s neck that’s not covered by his shirt and jerks him off faster. “C’mon baby,” he breathes under Gerard’s ear.

    Gerard sounds like his orgasm is being punched out of him as he comes in Mikey’s hand. His satisfied keen tapers off into a whimper as Mikey keeps fucking him and rubbing his cock. “Mike, Mikes, please,” he stutters, body jerking helplessly at the overstimulation.

    Mikey pants against Gerard’s neck and ignores him, uses his free hand to press the wrist Gerard isn’t lying on into the mattress. “Hold still,” he says, then immediately makes Gerard’s thighs twitch when he fucks into him and rubs his thumb under the head of his cock. “‘M so close, Gee.”

    “Please.”

    It takes Mikey maybe a handful of thrusts more before he lets go of Gerard’s cock and grabs the sheets instead. “Fuck, fuck, baby,” he gasps into Gerard’s shoulder as he comes inside him. He can feel it wet and slick around him as he stays there, panting against his brother’s back.

    Gerard stops holding his hips up and falls flat against the mattress, and Mikey goes with him. He whines when Mikey finally pulls out and falls to the side. Mikey can’t resist slipping his fingers down, feeling the wet mess of cum and lube leaking out of Gerard. He knows his brother must be lying in his own wet spot on the mattress.

    “You’re fucking beautiful,” Mikey says, pressing a kiss to Gerard’s cheek. Gerard just groans and presses back against Mikey’s fingers until he slips them inside again. Mikey smirks and rubs against Gerard’s prostate. “Okay, baby. Whatever you need.”