hockey jerseys ; m.p ✔

02

"right, so, now that, like, you're gonna be seeing them a lot, mikes, i've decided to finally invite some friends over tomorrow," gerard announces at the dinner table, causing mikey and his mom to grin at him.

"so you do have friends?" she asks excitedly, and mikey giggles, while gerard rolls his eyes.

"don't be a dick, mom," gerard mumbles, his mouth full of potatoes.

"language, gee," she scolds, and mikey continues to giggle, sipping his water. "so, who're you inviting? because the exchange student will be here tomorrow, too, so you'd need to include him."

"yeah, i know. i've asked ryan, brendon, ray, spencer and pete," gerard says, before beaming at his mother.

"i get to meet so many of your friends!" the two laugh together, and don't notice the way mikey almost choked at the mention of pete.

"pete's coming?" mikey asks, and gerard raises his eyebrows at his younger brother.

"yes, why?"

"i - i don't like him, very much," mikey says, a pink tinge coating his cheeks, and gerard shrugs.

"well then mikes, you can just stay in your room," he replies, before digging back into his food messily, and mikey rolls his eyes.

"was planning on it anyway," he mutters, picking up his plate. "can i be excused? homework."

"of course, mikes," his mom smiles at him and he smiles back, and as mikey leaves the room he can faintly hear gerard and their mom's conversation.

"is mikey gay?"

"probably." he could almost hear the smirk on gerard's face.

why did that matter? why did it matter if he was gay or straight or bi or pan or omni or ace? maybe because they're a family of gays and he'd be a disappointment if he even thought about reproducing.

they were right, though. mikey frowned at his feet while he stomped upstairs, to his room. he is gay. he wouldn't deny it if they asked him.

he collapses onto his bed, snuggles into his pillow, and checks his phone, trying desperately hard to ignore the snapchat notification from tyler, as it just had to be a spam, and mikey didn't want to deal with that right now.

what he didn't ignore however, was the text message.

mikey way?

he oggled the number that sent it, and he didn't recognize it at all. like, whatsoever.

ye, who dis?

god, your grammar is awful.

it's pete.

mikey blushed like hell, yeah his grammar was awful, but it was just texting? he didn't want to put the effort in if he wasn't at school?

o cool

mikey's heart begins to race as he anticipates the returning text from pete, and he wonders - how the fuck did pete get his number?

watcha doing?

uhh,, studying stuff, hw

right ..

mikey rolled his eyes, putting his phone down. he shouldn't be getting this excited of a guy that he barely knew.

did g tell you i'm coming over tomorrow?

ya

cool. talk to ya later

okay

mikey grins to himself, putting his phone down under his pillow. they'd talk later? he giggles, sliding his legs under his blanket. how much later?