Mikey listened to the steady ringing emanating from his cell phone and rolled his eyes. Of course, Gerard wasn’t answering his phone. Again. He glanced at his watch and sighed. Fifteen minutes late. He hit the end button before the voice mail could pick up and dialed his older brother’s number again. After three rings the line connected and Gerard’s sleep-filled voice filled the receiver.

“Fuck, Mikey, call much?” he grumbled.

“Yeah, we’re supposed to be practicing, dumbass. Where the hell are you?”

“Shit,” Gerard hissed, the sound of crumpling and rustling making the connection crackle.

“Where are you?”

“Out.”

“Whatever, just hurry the fuck up,” Mikey mumbled, taking a sip from his freshly brewed cup of coffee. Gerard grumbled a miserable “Fuck you,” before the line disconnected. Shrugging his brother’s attitude off, Mikey tucked the phone in his pocket and made his way inside the small garage where the band liked to practice when they were home.

Frank and Ray were already lounging around the cluttered space strumming guitars, Ray’s bushy hair bobbing around the thick headphones he wore. Frank glanced up when the door closed loudly behind him and nodded.

“Where’s Gee?”

“No idea,” he placed his coffee on one of the many stacks of magazines and shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the side of the couch. He made his way through the mass of crinkled Coke and beer cans on the floor and grabbed his bass, lifting the strap over his shoulder and running his thumb over the strings.

“Better get here soon,” Frank noted, pushing his hair from his face.

“That’s what I told him,” the younger Way sighed before returning his attention to his instrument.

The room fell into quiet, the only sounds being the low plucking of the three guitars. Frank jotted a few things on the notebook spread on the couch cushion beside him and Ray kept his mouth shut, still bobbing his head to whatever blasted through his headphones. The sound of a car pulling up outside distracted the two men and they glanced at each other with raised eyebrows as the door slammed.

“This better be—” Frank started, but he stopped when the door swung open, letting in a cool burst of air.

Gerard stepped in, his hair a stringy mass in his face. He smirked at his band mates and shrugged his coat off, tossing it to join Mikey’s on the couch as the door slammed closed behind him. He was dressed in a loose zip up hoodie and pajama pants, the baggy garments coupled with a pair of Converse. The older Way tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants and looked around at the expectant expressions on Frank and Mikey’s faces.

“Hi.”

“Glad you could join us,” Frank remarked, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Usually you’re always first up.”

“Sorry.” Gee’s cheeks flushed. “Long night.”

“Doing what?” Mikey asked quickly.

Gerard shrugged, “Walking mostly. Lost track of time and got to sleep late. Nothing huge.”

Mikey frowned. He was lying. Before he could ask another question, Ray interrupted the awkward conversation, tossing a pen in Gerard’s direction.

“Took you long enough,” he got to his feet and tucked his headphones around his neck. “Can we practice now?”

“Yeah, sure,” the lead singer nodded, sharing a glance with his younger brother before stepping into place behind the microphone. Ray leaned over the coffee table in front of Frank’s couch and clicked around on the open laptop. He cursed under his breath and straightened, his hands resting on the guitar hanging loosely at his side.

“We really need to figure out this drummer thing,” he frowned. “The drum tracks on here suck.”

Scratching the back of his head, Mikey stepped forward and pulled out his cell phone, “We could always call Nat. She plays.”

Franks eyes lit up and he nodded, “I totally forgot. I’m such an ass. I’ll call her.”

Tucking his phone back in his pocket, Mikey slunk back into the corner by the empty drum kit. He found his eyes travelling to his older brother who leaned on the microphone stand, his free hand buried in his hair. Even though he looked exhausted, Gee looked genuinely happy, the corners of his mouth turned up, clearly thinking about something that made him smile. Resting his head against the wall, Mikey watched as Gerard tapped his fingers on the back of his neck, a small bruise just peeking out from under the collar of his hoodie. Narrowing his eyes he tried to figure out what it was only to frown at the realization. Gerard had a hickey.

“Either you pinched yourself really hard, or someone’s been sucking your neck, Gee” Frank noted as he hung up his phone. Clearly Mikey hadn’t been the only one who’d noticed the red mark on Gerard’s neck, and Frank stepped forward, pulling the fabric down and away from the offending mark.

Gerard’s cheeks flushed and he shrugged. “A guy’s allowed to have a little fun every once in a while. What’s wrong with that?”

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Ray piped up, a teasing grin on his face as Frank studied the reddish-purple mark.

A mischievous grin spread across Gee’s face and he shrugged, “I never kiss and tell.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed, he knew his older brother was lying again. He knew he was a relationship guy, never one for one night stands. Whoever Gerard had hooked up with had to be someone he’d been seeing for longer than a night. Titling his head to the side in wonder, Mikey chewed the inside of his cheek. Why was it such a secret? He watched the three men talk and laugh, still pulled into his mind when the door opened again and Natalie poked her head in, a giant grin on her face.

“Hi boys,” she said, stepping into the room and making a beeline straight to Frank. She planted a kiss on his mouth and grabbed a set of drumsticks. “Hope you don’t mind, Dom tagged along to watch.”

“Dom?” Both Mikey and Gerard chorused, their heads turning when she stepped into the room with a timid smirk.

“Hey,” she waved, stuffing her hands in her pockets. Their eyes met and her cheeks flushed. She offered a close-lipped smile, shrugging her jacket from her shoulders to reveal a black off the shoulder tunic top and skinny jeans. “Ignore me, I’m just here until I have to go to work.”

“Have a seat we were just getting started.” Frank winked at her from around Nat’s frame. His hands rested on the blonde’s slim hips and his chin rested on her shoulder. Nat twirled the drumsticks in her hands, a content smile on her face.

“Right, let’s start then,” Gerard’s voice echoed in the mike and they moved to take their places.

Mikey pushed away from the wall, avoiding contact when Nat slipped past him to sit behind the drum kit. She tapped out a few beats to get adjusted before turning to him with a curious look.

“What are we practicing?” she whispered.

Mikey shrugged, “No fucking idea.”

The two laughed and Gee called them to order before announcing the first song. Mikey nodded, quickly tuning his instrument before they launched into the song, Nat keeping up expertly as if she’d recorded with them from day one. He figured it was because she’d been a fan of theirs before she’d met Frank and learned her craft imitating their music. He kept his head down through each song, bobbing to the music and keeping careful not to let his attention drift to the woman perched on the couch a few feet away, her knees pulled to her chest and a crooked grin on her face as she sang along with Gee.

Mikey couldn’t help but let his mind wander, his eyes shyly lifting to see what Dom was doing every once in a while. No matter how hard he fought against the urges, he always ended up watching her, her feet rocking to the beat and her eyes on Gerard as they sang together. She was smiling wide and she looked happy.

“Dom, sing,” Gerard paused after nearly two hours of practicing. Mikey smirked, knowing she hated singing anywhere but the shower. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Gerard pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and slid one between his lips, lighting it. “No smokes then.”

“Fuck you, that’s not fair,” she pouted, swinging her legs over the couch and planting her feet on the floor. She stood and plopped her hands on her lips as Frank and Ray cheered her on.

“I thought you quit,” Mikey quietly piped up when she grabbed the stick of nicotine from Gerard’s mouth and took a drag.

“Hey, I’m allowed one vice, aren’t I?” she shrugged, her eyes darting to the floor as she let the smoke out through her nose.

“Just asking,” he muttered and bowed his head, letting the conversation drop. He watched her bite her lip out of the corner of his eye before she turned away from him and finished off the cigarette. Gerard plopped onto the couch as she took his place behind the microphone, flipping him off.

“Just one song and then I have to go to work,” she sighed and turned to Nat. The two shared a silent nod and Nat kicked up the drums, playing Dom’s favorite song. Mikey grinned as he strummed the bass, enjoying Dom’s timid voice as she sang along. He watched her swing her hips to the rhythm and occasionally drift to Frank or Ray as they played. Mikey kept his spot by the drums as they finished the song and she tossed Gerard the mic.

“Don’t go yet,” Nat whined from behind the kit, her elbows propped on the snare.

“I have to, babe. I’m late on rent again,” Dom pouted. Her eyes fell on Mikey and she smiled. She made her way over to him and he froze when she wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. Her voice was low and her breath warm against his ear. “Walk me to the car?”

“Uh, sure,” he nodded, shrugging the bass off his shoulders and resting it against the kick drum. He kept his eyes down as Dom hugged everyone goodbye and drifted toward the door, holding it open for him as they stepped into the wintery air outside.

Unsure of how to conduct himself, Mikey shoved his hands in his pockets and watched her light a cigarette, the smoke swirling around her face as she took a drag.

“When are you leaving for the road again?” she asked, taking a few steps toward him.

“Next week.”

She sighed, “I want to see you before you leave.”

Mikey bit his lip and nodded, “Yeah.”

He watched the corners of her mouth twitch. She always laughed at him when he was being awkward. She reached her hand out and ran it down his hoodie-covered arm. Her fingers gently squeezed his wrist before she let her hand fall away.

“You should come to work with me, keep me company. We have a lot to talk about,” she looked hopeful but he shook his head.

“I can’t, we’re still practicing. I would but… I’m sorry.” He swallowed hard, avoiding her eyes. He wasn’t sure if he could handle hanging out with her one on one yet. It still hurt to even be near her. Every time their eyes met he pictured her running away from him, the tears in her eyes. He couldn’t deal with that again. Not while the wound was still fresh.

“Mikey, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her hand covering her mouth after she spoke. Her eyes went wide and she sniffed. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Dom. I don’t. I just don’t know how to do this,” he muttered, kicking a rock with the toe of his boot. He felt her move closer to him, her body heat warming his chill skin and her shadow mingling with his. She placed her hands on his shoulders and tried to catch his eyes but he kept his gaze trained on the sidewalk.

“Why won’t you look at me?” she whispered.

He pursed his lips and sighed. He wanted to just look her in the eye but he didn’t want to see what was there. He felt her hands move to each side of his throat, her fingertips moist and warm from being stuffed in her pockets. She used her thumbs to tilt his head up and he stared at her lips, still refusing to look her in the eyes.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” she pushed him slightly. “You just don’t want to because you’re afraid.”

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked her chin and she sighed.

“Fine. I have to go,” she pulled away from him, the warmth of her closeness replaced with cold air. He wrapped his arms around himself and watched her climb into Nat’s car and start the engine. She honked twice before speeding away from the curb and disappearing around the corner.

“Fuck me,” he grumbled under his breath before turning on his heel and making his way back inside to the heat and his band mates.