Strange Attractor (fic)

[when_in_autumn]

Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Mikey/Frank
Words: 898
Rating: M
Summary: My friend Laura saw this and wanted Kimono!Mikey. So here you go :)

Strange Attractor

 

Mikey had excused himself from the aftershow, faking a headache.  When he was alone in the bus, finally, he knelt down in front of his bunk, retrieving a parcel wrapped in soft pink silk. He ran his fingertips over the smooth surface, lost in thought, before glancing around one last time and opening the strings of the parcel. Inside lay a folded garment, made of black silk and embroidered with ornaments in shiny yellow, orange and brown. Mikey ran his finger over them, tracing the lines forming leafs and chrysanthemums. A traditional japanese autumn Kimono.  He always wanted to wear one. The first time this wish occurred to him when he was 12, sitting on their parent’s sofa, watching some Japanese martial arts film with Gerard.  He’d admired the way they wore this strange, exotic piece of clothing. But what fascinated him most was how men and women alike wore this dress-like item of clothing. Later this evening, he had asked Gerard about it, and Gee had explained to him how this was perfectly normal in Japan, at least it was in the past, and that it was no dress but something everybody could wear, regardless of their gender.

 

And now, twelve years later, touring Japan with his band, he finally was about to do what he secretly wanted since this evening on the sofa in his childhood. He placed every piece of the Kimono ensemble on his bed, and began to undress. He didn’t rush, but trembled with anticipation. He wanted to dwell on the process, to fully experience every second of it. When he shed his pants, he hesitated for a moment. Then, he stripped of his underpants too. He wanted nothing between his skin and the soft, cool silk he was about to wear. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin.

Mikey bent down and slowly put on the Kimono. He wouldn’t be able to put it on properly, because he’d need assistance to do so. Instead, he opted for a red, braided chord, part of the obi, to serve for a belt, holding his Kimono closed.  Mikey let out a sigh. He felt calm, yet excited. He wished there would be a mirror. The tiny thing in the bathroom just showed his head. Instead, he leaned back against the bunk behind him and ran his fingertips down his chest. He felt mysterious, strange, like he wasn’t himself, but someone confident and beautiful.

 

He slid his hands inside the Kimono, fingertips playfully dancing around a nipple. Mikey wasn’t sure what possessed him, for he knew that one of the others, a member of his band, could step in every second. This thought would have scared him, but Mikey didn’t feel like himself tonight. He closed his eyes and imagined himself to be the prince of an ancient Japanese Kingdom. He’d be powerful, and everyone would obey his every will.

Mikeys hand skimmed down past the red chord, toyed with it for a moment, then went past it and parted the Kimono again. He felt a bead of sweat trail down his neck as he reached out to wrap his fingers around his cock, beginning to stroke slowly. In his fantasy, he imagined himself to have servants to take care of him. They’d be all lean muscle, dark hair… Maybe they’d have large dragons tattooed, scaled creatures winding themselves around the body. He would tell them what to do, what he wanted them to do. And they would bow to him.

Mikeys hand sped up. He felt pleasure coiling tight, felt his muscles quiver. He was close, and his other hand slid over the fabric restlessly.

 

***

When Frank slid quietly inside the bus to get his hoodie, he was under the impression that Mikey’d be asleep. He tiptoed through the living room area and pulled back the curtain that separated the bunks from the front of the bus. Instantly he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Mikey Way wide-eyed.

Frank was confused. He didn’t know why Mikey was wearing a Kimono, why he even owned one, why he stood here jerking off instead of sleeping like everybody thought he would, and least of all did he know why Mikey was looking at him like this, not even slowing the rapid pace of his hand. He felt pinned by this steady steady gaze and Mikey’s heated expression. So Frank stood silent and watched, lips parted, eyes locked with Mikey’s.

Mikey tilted his head back, gaze never leaving Frank, shivering. He let out a quiet, shaky moan and spilled himself in his hand. His breath came fast and unsteady, and his pale skin showed a faint red. Frank thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.

Mikey reached out with his left hand, grabbed Franks hoodie from a bunk and held it out to Frank. His eyes held a question. Frank wasn’t sure whether this was a peace offering or a contract to never tell anyone. Still silent, not trusting his own voice, he took the hoodie. Mikey showed him one of his almost-smiles in return, and when turned to leave again, Frank wondered if maybe this was just a dream. When he stepped out of the bus, he didn’t feel the chilly night air, but he clutched the hoodie in his hand, a smile playing on his lips.