"Holy shit, Gee!" Ray Toro cried once Gerard finished singing. In the span of two hours, the brothers had written lyrics for the tune that Mikey had hummed earlier that morning. "That was amazing!"

"Thanks," Gerard said bashfully. "It didn't take much."
"Do you have a name for it?" Ray asked, pulling his guitar up and around his body, grabbing a plastic pick from off of the table in front of him. The three were in Ray's apartment, each of them with about half a bottle of beer having been ingested; it was only 10:45 AM.

"Not really," Gerard said. "Something along the lines of Skylines And Turnstiles, maybe."

Ray struck a few chords on his guitar and looked over the piece of paper Gerard had set the paper down on. "This is really good," Ray said again, nodding his head.

"So," Mikey started, taking a swig from his bottle. "Yesterday—"

"God," Ray said and stopped playing. "I don't even want to think about yesterday. I just want to forget about the whole thing."

"I was about to say the exact same thing," Mikey said. "I had to sleep in Gerard's room last night, I was so terrified."

"Last time you did that," Gerard started, smiling mischievously, and Mikey shot him a look that said 'Stop talking right now'. "You were 3 and you had—"

Mikey launched himself across the couch and wrapped his hand over Gerard's mouth, stunting his sentence. The two wrestled for a few seconds before Gerard pried Mikey's hand from his mouth and cried "Seen Jaws and pissed yourself!"

Ray was on the verge of tears, doubled over his instrument, laughing at the brothers. "You two're very entertaining when you're drunk," he said in-between fits of laughter.

"I'm not..." Gerard mumbled, looking down at his still-full bottle. Ray and Mikey's bottles, however, showed almost bone dry.

"So, you guys got any plans tonight?" Ray asked, placing his guitar on a stand close to his chair.

"Nope," Gerard said. "Why do you ask?"

"'Cause I was gonna go check out this band," Ray said. "They're called Pencey Prep, and they're playing at this dingy little club in Summit."

Summit. Half an hour from Belleville. The three would have to get a designated driver, which was a feat in-and-of itself. And, frankly, shows were no fun unless everyone was hammered.

"We could get Matt to drive," Ray said, almost as if he could read Gerard's mind. Matt Pelissier was, yet again, a good friend of the three, not to mention one of the best drummers they had ever met. "I'm sure he'd be into."

"What kind of music is Pencey?" Mikey asked.

"Rock," Ray replied. "Punk stuff. The lead singer, he's been in the scene since he was, like, 11. Something like that."

"Wow," Gerard said. "That's insane."

"Speaking of age," Ray said and cast a glance at Mikey. "It's legal for you to drink. Finally."

"It is, isn't it?" Gerard said. His brother's birthday had been two days before, on Monday, and they hadn't celebrated it, mainly because Mikey requested that they not make a big deal out of it. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," Mikey said. He turned his attention back to Ray and said "Tell us more about Pencey. They sound awesome."

Ray cleared his throat and went on. "Let's see... I've seen them once or twice already and the lead singer, he's vertically challenged. Like, seriously, I'm at least a foot taller than this dude. But he has serious energy— he's all hopping 'round the stage and shit. I don't know how such a little guy does it.

"And... Umm... Oh, he plays guitar, too. He's an amazing guitar player, it's crazy. And his singing, Jesus Christ, this man can scream," Ray continued, getting a slightly dreamy look in his dark brown eyes. "Well, I'm not sure if I can call him 'man'. He's maybe 17 or 18.

"Gerard, he'd be perfect for you!" Gerard shot Ray a look and rolled his eyes.

"No, Ray, that's illegal," Gerard said, raising one of his eyebrows. "Anyway, Mikey tried to set me up with a 19 year old yesterday or the day before. Said he saw him at work."

"Well, aren't you becoming popular?" Ray quipped and Gerard let out a humorless laugh.

"Popular," he repeated, peeling at the damp label on his bottle. "Yeah, that's the word. 'Obviously desperate' is a better term."

"You're not obviously desperate," Mikey insisted. "You got need to get laid. Hell, everyone does at one point or another. And anyway, when's the last time you did it?"

"April," Gerard said, blushing furiously at the memory.

"Oh, yeah, it was your birthday, wasn't it?" Ray asked. "God, what was the dude's name? Do you even remember?"

"I remember every aspect of that night, except for his name," Gerard admitted. "I just call him my Birthday Fuck."

"You still talk about him?" Ray asked.

"Yes," Mikey said.

"No, I don't!" Gerard argued, leaning forward in his seat slightly.

"Yes, you do," Mikey insisted. Ray let out a small laugh and leaned back in his chair, getting ready for the sibling rivalry of the year.

"That's ridiculous," said Gerard.

"No, it's not," Mikey said. "You talk about your Birthday Fuck all the time."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

This went on for another 20 minutes; Gerard won.

---

---

"He was being a little bitch," Mikey explained for the brothers' lateness, sliding into the backseat of Matt Pelissier's car later that night. Ray had taken shotgun and Matt was driving— his car was his baby and he wouldn't let anyone else behind the wheel. "Couldn't decide on a shirt."

Gerard got in next to Mikey and argued "Ray said that the singer's cute and I wanted to look good! Is that such a crime?"

"If it makes us late to the show, it will be a crime," Matt answered, pulling out of the driveway. "What'll also be a crime is what I'll do to your body after I kill you when you make us late to the show."

"Poor choice of words," Ray commented as the brothers winced. "That made you sound like a necrophiliac."

"What I meant to say," Matt corrected himself, giving Ray a scalding side-eye, "Was that it would've taken weeks for people to find where your body went."

"Can we stop?" Mikey asked. "I don't want to puke on the way to the show."

And they drove. The drive to Summit from Belleville was 27 minutes, and the Pencey Prep show started at 8:30, in 30 minutes. The four figured that, by the time they found the venue and got a parking spot, they would get there just in time.

And that's what they did. They got into the bar— disrupted only a slight complication with Mikey's age— and sat down at the wooden bar as the band was coming out onstage. "Which one is the guy you wanted to set me up with?" Gerard leaned over to Ray, his breath tickling Ray's ear.

"Umm..." Ray mumbled and scanned the men onstage. He pointed to one of them and said "Him."

Holy shit, he's gorgeous, was the first thing that ran through Gerard's mind. The man onstage was short for the assumed age of 17 or 18, but his height seemed to fit him well. He had short, dark-brown-almost-black hair that was spiked up a little bit, and a few piercings adorned his tanned face— one in his left nostril and one on the right side of his plump bottom lip. Oh, how Gerard would love to bite that lip, and make the small man moan underneath him. The man turned his gaze to the small crowd and Gerard saw that hazel-green eyes glittered back at him, connecting with Gerard's own hazel-brown eyes. The man onstage smirked right at Gerard, then he did the unthinkable: he winked.

"You're hitting that tonight, aren't you?" Ray asked upon seeing the singer wink at his friend.

Gerard didn't answer, his mind fixated on the man onstage. "Wha...?" He muttered, slowly tearing his gaze away from the stage.

"Holy..." Mikey started and frantically turned to Ray. "That's the singer dude?" He asked, pointing to the man.

"Yeah," Ray said. "What about him?"

"His name is Frank Something-Or-Other, he's 19, he attends Rutgers," Mikey started. "And I tried to set Gee up with him yesterday."

"Wait, that's the guy who you said had a small ass?" Gerard asked. Frank was turned to talk to the drummer, which gave them a convenient look at the— admittedly small— butt, covered by tight black jeans. "His ass is glorious."

"It is to you," Mikey countered as Ray turned to the bartender to order the group drinks. "Because you want to fuck it."

"Do not!" Gerard cried, blushing red and looking down at his lap.

"Admit it," Mikey said. "His ass is grass, and you're gonna mow it."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Ray asked, handing Gerard a scotch and soda. "And how is that in context?"

Mikey pointed two fingers at Gerard, like a gun, and Ray nodded, suddenly understanding. "Oh," Ray said. "Yeah, that's gonna happen."

"Hello, everyone!" Frank said, his voice being amplified by the microphone "We're Pencey Prep, and this first song is called P.S, Don't Write," Frank said. "Here you go."

Gerard sat in awe for all 11 songs, amazed by Frank's onstage presence. The small bar was filled with Frank's voice and screams and Gerard found himself fantasizing more and more about Frank the longer he looked at him.

"What if I don't want to?" Gerard protested after the show, trying to pull his arm out of Mikey's grip. His brother was intent on introducing Gerard to Frank, and the elder's heart fluttered just at the though of being able to talk to the man.

"I'm not letting you jack off in your room, alone, tonight," Mikey said. "You haven't had a fuck since April and..." Mikey cast a glance down at Gerard's crotch before adding "Your little friend there is taller than you are." Gerard looked down as well and found that, sure enough, there was a noticeable bulge in his skinny jeans.

Gerard tilted his head to the tiled ceiling and groaned as a protest, but he let Mikey drag him to where the band was hanging out at the end of the bar.

Oh God, Gerard thought when he caught sight of Frank. The small, sweaty man had his shirt draped around his shoulder, showing off his glistening chest and a small flame tattoo. Gerard swallowed hard as Frank turned around and gave Gerard a smirking smile. "Hey," he said and moved away from his bandmates a bit. Mikey let go of his brother's arm and whispered "Godspeed," before leaving.

"Oh, umm... Hi," Gerard stuttered, his face filling up with heat.
"I'm Frankie," the sweaty man said and offered Gerard his hand to shake. Gerard took his hand and felt the soft skin against his palm, and the callouses on Frank's fingers.

"I'm Gerard," the older man said, retracting his hand and putting it halfway in his jeans pocket.

"You know the guy from the bookstore?" Frank asked, glancing at Mikey across the bar.

"Yeah," Gerard said. "He's my baby brother, actually."

"How much baby're we taking here?" Frank asked. "One year? Two?"

"Close, three years," Gerard said. "He just turned 21 on Monday."

Gerard watched as Frank took a split second to do the math and his face fell slightly when he calculated Gerard's age. "Oh," he said and bit the silver ring handing from his lip. "Well, that shouldn't be a problem." He added, smiling again.

"And why is that?" Gerard asked.

Frank leaned in close to Gerard, close enough for the ring on his lip to touch Gerard's ear. "I'm 19," he whispered and Gerard's heart sped up.

Gerard stuttered as Frank pulled away, biting his bottom lip. If he could, Gerard would have attacked Frank with a kiss at that exact moment.

"You okay, Gee?" Frank asked, pulling Gerard out of his short daydream of leaving dark purple marks all over Frank's body.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Gerard said. "Just kinda drunk."
He held up his empty glass as evidence and smiled guiltily.

"My favorite..." Frank murmured, turning his gaze to Gerard. He stepped away and scrutinized the man standing in front of him, his eyes flicking from his messy dark brown hair to his amber-brown eyes and from the slightly wrinkled David Bowie shirt to the black skinny jeans that didn't do much to hide the hard-on that the older man had.

Luckily, Frank knew just what to say to get his way. "You know, while I love Bowie, that shirt would look a lot better on my carpet," he whispered in Gerard's ear and he let one of his hands trail up the side of Gerard's leg. Gerard licked his lips and nodded, his thoughts clouding over with Frank.

"I wanna show you something," Frank said and took the glass from Gerard's hand, placing it on the slightly damp bar. Frank quickly shrugged on his red t-shirt and slid Gerard's hand into his own, leading him out of the bar.

Notes

I'm so excited about this fic, though— I already have up to Chapter Four written!!
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