Pinned

Frank slams his opponent onto the mat, knocking the wind out of the taller boy. The crowd roars as Frank heads back to the bench to receive congratulatory pats and smacks on the butt from his teammates, who are practically a family to Frank.
“Good job, Iero” his coach barks. Mr. Heather is a ruddy, pudgy man that always sounds angry.
“Thanks,” Frank pants. He turns around to see his usual fan girls all giggling and staring at him. Frank gives a wave, followed by a slightly suggestive wink that sends the girls into a frenzy of gleeful laughter and excited whispering. It’s like he’s Richard Ramirez, but not violent. Frank turns back towards the mat to see his friend Ray step onto it.
“Get em, Toro!” Frank cheers.
Ray grins at Frank before turning to his challenger. Frank knows exactly why Ray is smiling. The boy Ray is facing is practically a skeleton; it’s surprising that the stick of a boy is even in the same weight class as Ray. He’s also wearing horn rimmed glasses, and… is that a mark from a hair straightener in his hair sprayed locks? Whoa, pussy alert. Easy match for Ray.
Ray shakes the boy’s hand before the whistle is blown. The skinny kid charges at Ray, bringing him to the ground. Ray is caught off guard, and struggles to get back up, only to be retackled by the boy and held in a tight arm bar. The boy gets the points, and releases Ray, who bolts to the other side of the mat.
“Come on Ray, you got it!” Frank shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth.
Ray tries to take down the boy, but again is brought to the ground, this time being pulled into a guillotine.
“Come on!” the teammates shout, frustrated with Ray. It’s not like him to lose a match so harshly, especially to such a wimpy looking kid.
Again, more points are granted to the boy, who lets Ray go, just to again bring him to the ground and pull him into a Kimora.
The boy gets Ray into a few more holds, and Frank and his teammates sit on the bench, sullen. He wins, and Ray sulks back to his seat on the bench, the coach slapping his back in a method of comfort as Ray takes his seat.
“Hey, what was that, man?” Frank asks. He’s allowed to be blatant with his friend of approximately 12 years.
Ray groans. “Ugh, I don’t know what happened! That little motherfucker was just so fast!”
Frank nods, and then a portentous smile spreads across his face as he suggests, “Hey, wanna jump him?”
Ray nods. “Yeah, definitely.”
The two hang outside the other team’s locker room, Ray filling up his water bottle as Frank casually talks to him. They see the skinny kid step out, and Ray leaves his bottle on top of the fountain, stepping over.
“Hey!” Ray calls.
Frank follows, putting on a plastic smile for the kid.
“Hi,” the boy replies.
“Good match,” Ray lies. “You had some good moves back there.”
Frank doesn’t know why Ray is talking the kid up so much. When are they going to kick his scrawny ass?
Ray places an arm on the kid’s shoulder, subtly guiding him into one of the back allies behind Frank and Ray’s high school. “So, what’s your name?”
“Mikey,” the kid replies.
Ray smiles evilly. “Nice to meet you, Mikey. I’m Ray.” With that, he kicks Mikey in the crotch, bringing the younger and smaller boy to his knees.
Frank’s heart skips a beat as it races with excitement. Fuck yes, about time. He hurries over to shove Mikey to the ground, stomping on his side.
Ray laughs and kicks Mikey in the ribs, causing him to cry out in pain. He takes his glasses, using his heel to grind them into the ground, transforming the lens and frame into fragments of plastic and glass.
Frank turns Mikey onto his stomach, kneeling on top of him as he grabs the waistband to his black briefs, yanking them halfway up poor Mikey’s back. Mikey squeals and struggles beneath Frank, but it’s no use. Frank finally releases him, grabbing Ray, who is still curb stomping Mikey, by the arm, chuckling as he wheezes,
“Let’s go!”
The two run away, leaving Mikey on the ground, unable to even see. Little do they know that the boy is as blind as a bat, and it will be about seven minutes of crawling around, locked out in the freezing cold until his parents and brother hear his shouts for help and let him in.
Ray and Frank sit on Ray’s bed that night, Xbox controllers clutched tightly in each of their hands.
“Ray, two weeks left of wrestling,” Frank reminds. “Are you pumped to grow your fro back out?”
Ray self-consciously pats at his short hair, which is usually to his shoulders, but is in a crew cut during wrestling season. For Ray, it’s, by far, the hardest part of wrestling. It is a pretty committed sport. Frank doesn’t mind chopping off his normally shaggy hair. It’s all of the dieting and the waking up early for Saturday meets that bothers him. “You bet. You ready to start inhaling pizza and chugging pop all the time again?”
Frank nods eagerly. “I can’t wait. I haven’t had a pop since, like, November. That’s ridiculous, Toro.”
Ray shakes his head, and then mentions, “Hey. Do you know that in about three weeks we’re getting two new kids?”
Frank nods. He knows everything, seeing as he’s somewhat popular. “Yeah. Their names are Gerard and Mikey, and they’re coming from the school we faced earlier today.”
“Mikey….” Ray mumbles nervously. He pauses the game, setting down his controller to anxiously wring his hands.
“What is it?” Frank questions, putting his own controller down.
“You don’t think….” Ray begins. He exhales sharply, continuing quickly, “You don’t think that the Mikey kid is the one we jumped earlier, do you?”
Frank’s heart skips a beat. Oh no. If he was then he’d definitely be wanting revenge. Sure, Mikey was easy to beat when it’s two against one but… one on one…. That’s anybody’s fair game. Or even worse, maybe he’d tell the guidance counselor about it, who would, in turn, tell the principal. Frank can’t have something that bad on his permanent record. It’s impeccable, which is strange, seeing as Frank has gotten into a fair share of fights, always being on the antagonist end. The simple fact is that no one wants to rat on the school’s wrestling star, whether it be that they don’t want to spoil his reputation or they simply are afraid he’d beat them up again for telling. “Pfft. I doubt it.”
“Let’s check Facebook,” Ray suggests.
“Why?” Frank whines.
“I’m still really nervous!” Ray insists. With that, he takes out his lap top, opening Facebook. He logs himself in as Frank (best friends know each other’s Facebook passwords) and searches “Mikey, Manson NJ”. Ray scrolls through the results for a second before declaring, “I can’t find him. Maybe he doesn’t have Facebook.”
“Yeah,” Frank agrees. Then he is struck with an amazing idea. He takes the laptop, leaving in the information Ray put in, but changing “Mikey” to “Michael”. Sure enough, up comes a profile picture of a boy with light brown hair and horn rimmed glasses holding a small dog. His full name is Michael James Way, at least, that’s what his profile says.
“Shit, that’s him,” Ray curses.
“Want to check out his brother while we’re at it?” Frank asks. “Because I’m worried that if he’s older than us, he’ll kick our asses.”
“Sure,” Ray replies. He types in “Gerard Way, Manson NJ” to get only one result. Frank’s heart skips a beat as he eyes the profile picture, which shows an angelic looking boy with pale skin and white blond hair. He has brown eyebrows, which means his hair must be dyed, and radiant green eyes. He has delicate, feminine features that makes Frank’s dick tremble.
Frank knew he was gay, but he kept it hidden, because of course, he couldn’t be the popular, smart, funny, well-liked wrestling superstar he was if he was gay. He did a good job at keeping it hidden, too, being in a relationship with a girl named Jamia last year from another school. He even kissed her, although it made him want to gag. It wasn’t that Jamia wasn’t attractive, it’s just that girls aren’t attractive. He supposes a lot are pretty, but when it comes to actually kissing them, or even masturbating to them, he just can’t do it.
“S-so, how old is he?” Frank asks, trying to keep his voice from trembling.
“Um… seventeen. So he’s either a junior or senior,” Ray concludes.
“Do you think he could beat one of us up?” Frank worries.
Ray shakes his head. “Doubt it. It says here that he’s really into painting and poetry. What a pussy.”
Frank laughs, somewhat uneasily. He likes poetry, too. He even writes his own. “Yeah, pussy.”
Little did he know the impact Gerard was about to take on him.

Notes

Yay first chapter! A long one, too.

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