yes okay fine piss is my Thing you caught me. red handed. i have to get this out somewhere because it is shockingly pretty hard to find ppl irl who wanna make u piss urself. i'll have to settle for making it happen to gerard way instead. fly my waycest scarab. oooh this ones got some mean mikey and coercion and tears.. the best things...
this is verbatim what it says in my notes: ohhhh mikeyway discovering gees weird pee stuff... ohhhh...
Gerard and Mikey are perched on the couch together, tangled up watching some shitty horror flick, and everything's normal.
Except, Gerard won't stop moving.
It starts small. Little readjustments, shifting in their seat, small stuff.
But as time goes on, their movements get more frequent and less intentional-- rubbing their knees together, crossing and uncrossing their legs every few minutes, and soon enough, full-on squirming.
It wouldn't take a detective to figure out the cause.
Mikey looks at Gerard, one eyebrow raised, questioning. "Dude. do you have to pee?"
Gerard jolts, ceasing their incessant movement. "Wh-- uhm-- n..no? No, I'm- I'm good. Fine."
...Right, and Mikey's fucking mother teresa. He frowns. "Clearly you aren't. You can't even sit still. You're a terrible liar, man."
Gerard makes a frustrated noise, tossing their head back and sighing, a long-suffering thing. "Okay, fine, fuck! Yes, I have to pee. Just a bit."
Mikey tilts his head at the way they're still bouncing their leg, like they don't even know they're doing it. "Doesn't look like just a bit to me."
Their face colors, and they force their leg to quit shaking. Mikey sort of misses the way it was making their thigh jiggle under their pajama pants. "Whatever. Doesn't matter, just--"
"Dude, are you not gonna get up? Just go, man. I can pause the movie."
They shake their head quickly, a little too against the idea to pass as nonchalant. "No. No, Mikey. I'll live. I can-- I can get through the movie. Let's-- let's just finish it, okay?"
Mikey stares at them a bit longer, deeply confused and really wishing sibling telepathy was a real thing. For as well as he knows them, he's never seen them this shifty, except for the countless times he's walked in on them jerking off, interrupting their sacred chronic masturbation sessions. This doesn't feel to far off from that, and that's kind of crossing some wires in Mikey's already doomed brother-loving brain.
In the end, he just sighs and shakes his head. "Okay. I can't control you. But you're being really fucking distracting."
Gerard flushes a deeper red somehow, and they wince. "Sorry. I'll try to stay still."
Mikey gives a curt nod, and turns back to the screen.
They definitely don't stay still. Naturally, as their urge grows stronger, they move even more. Full-body squirms this time, with little gasps and bitten-off noises accompanying the increased movement.
When Mikey peeks back at them, they're fully red in the face still, their bottom lip worried between their little teeth to mitigate the sounds they're doing a piss poor (haha) job of hiding.
That's when it really clicks for him. The noises, the movement, the weird jerkoff-like shiftiness and insistence that they can hold it and won't get up-- it's not that they're stubborn or lazy, they're getting off on it. With Mikey sitting right next to them. Fuck.
They're surely no saints when it comes to boundaries, things you should and shouldn't say to or share with your brother, touches that are too intimate to pass as brotherly. But they've toed that line of acceptable their whole lives, dancing around what is and isn't okay, but never fully committing to one side.
The 'weirdest' thing they've actually done together was practice kissing. A lot of times. A lot of kissing, in their early teens. That, or the time Gerard explained to him in incredible detail how to jerk off. Never touched him, never showed him, but the way they explained it was far from clinical or friendly.
And hell, Gerard has never been very secretive about their kinks either, but they've never involved Mikey like this. No matter how indirect it is, it makes him yearn all the same. The late nights spent tormenting himself for having these sick feelings for his big brother, his protector, tearing himself apart like he's the worst man alive, all of his desires boil to the surface. Not yet spilling over, but waiting for a catalyst.
Mikey has waited twenty fucking years for a catalyst. For Gerard to make a move, do something, anything to show that Mikey's not alone, that they're just as twisted as he is, that they need this just as bad. But they never have. Mikey'd begun to accept that they never would, but this? This is new. Different. Hopeful.
Not only are they indulging in one of their kinks right next to him, they're really not doing much to hide it either. In their defense, it's pretty hard to stay subtle on the verge of pissing yourself.
Fuck it. Mikey doesn't need Gerard to man up, he's perfectly fine with being his own catalyst. He just has to wait.
So he waits. He waits, and 'watches' the movie, more so subtly watching Gerard squirm and pant, their eyes screwing shut when the full sensation gets to be almost too much. Their thighs clamp together very suddenly more than once, mostly at the jumpscares or startlingly loud noises, and it takes everything in Mikey to not jump their bones and take what he wants. He waits.
The movie ends after far too long.
The credits roll, and Gerard gets this look of relief on their face. They stand up quickly, ready to stumble to the bathroom, and this is it. This is the catalyst.
Before they can get away, he reaches out and catches them by the wrist, holding them in place. His grip is firm, intentional, and he's a lot stronger than he looks. Or maybe Gerard is just weaker than they look.
They make a face, somewhere between confusion and panic, trying to wrench their arm out of Mikey's grasp to no avail.
"Mikey? What the fuck, Mikey, I have to--"
Mikey pulls, dragging them back down into their seat next to him. They don't fight it, but they look baffled, stunned into silent obedience.
"Do you think I'm fucking stupid?" He asks, his voice coming out much more calm and level than he expected. Almost blank on intonation, but dripping with something dangerous.
Gerard's expression shifts to panic. "What? No, no, Mikey, never! I know you're not dumb, you're so intelligent and clever and--"
Mikey cuts them off, nearly laughing in their fucking face. "Not what I meant. You aren't stupid either. You're clueless and a fucking space case, but you're not dumb. You know what I'm talking about, so I'll ask again. Do you think I'm fucking stupid?"
He knows he looks crazed, high on the sudden power he holds over them, and he revels in the way it makes them shudder.
"No." Their voice is so small, so hushed, it almost doesn't sound like them. "I don't, Mikey. I know you aren't."
Mikey releases their arm, only to reach up and grip their hair, tighter than he'd gripped them before, and he tugs. "Clearly you do."
Gerard shouts, looking around wildly. "Mikey! I don't- I don't- what?"
"You thought I wouldn't notice?" Mikey sneers. "You thought I wouldn't realize you were getting off right next to me? Thought if you could keep it under wraps, I would just have no fucking clue?"
They look terrified, probably because he sounds fucking pissed. "I wasn't- I'm not-"
Mikey pulls, hard. "Try again."
Gerard cries out, squeezing their eyes shut. "Fuck! Fuck I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? Fuck, it wasn't- it didn't start that way. I just-- I didn't stop it when it went there. I thought you wouldn't notice, wouldn't care. I thought I could hide it, slip off to the bathroom like nothing happened. I'm so fucking sorry, Mikey."
They look utterly mortified, shaking like a leaf, like they'll start sobbing any minute. Mikey wants to see them cry.
"Are you- are you mad?" Their voice breaks, and Mikey has to fight the urge to pull them close and kiss it all better. He doesn't because this is about teaching them a lesson. About the principle of it.
They shake their head right after they say it. "That's a- fuckin stupid question. Of course you are. You should be, I did something fucking gross and I shouldn't have involved you--"
Mikey yanks again, effectively shutting them up as they cut themself off with a broken sob.
"Am I mad? Oh, I'm fucking pissed, Gerard. But not for what you're thinking."
"Wh-- I don't-- why, then? Why not?"
Mikey feels a sick swell of pride at the way they're falling apart, because he's causing it. "I'm pissed because you thought you could get away with it, involve me without really letting me in on it. Because you did such a shit job of hiding it, because you think I don't like it just the fucking same. Because you're too much of a fucking coward to tell me you want this."
He punctuates every sentence, every declaration of, in his eyes, rightful anger with a harder yank of their hair, and they make a pitiful little noise as Mikey pulls harder and harder, leaning closer all the while.
"What?" It's punched out, like he reached into their guts, into their throat and puppeted them to say it. "Want what?"
Mikey scoffs. "Don't play fucking dumb now. This."
He jabs his fingers into Gerard's abdomen, abusing their over-full bladder.
And they fucking scream. throwing their head back as best they can in Mikey's grip. Their body thrashes against the invasion, their legs clamping shut desperately and they shake and babble nonsense, fully unsure of what to do when all of their control is being stripped away.
"I'm-- Mikey, Mikey, holy fuck-- holy fuck, stop, stop! I'm gonna--"
"You're gonna what, piss yourself?" He coos, chastising and bitter.
Gerard nods. "Yes, fuck! Fucking stop!"
"And why should I? This is what you wanted, right? Why else would you risk it, sitting here so full and desperate, outright refusing a chance to let it out? You want this, Gerard. You want me to make you piss yourself."
Gerard moans at that, their resolve shattering. "Mikey. Mikey, we can't. We shouldn't-- I don't--"
"Why not? Clearly morals don't fucking bother you, or you wouldn't have let this happen. You wouldn't be fucking hard. You don't what, Gerard? You don't want this? That's a fucking shame. It's a lie, too. I know you do."
Gerard still looks terrified, a gorgeous mixture of unadulterated fear and mind-numbing arousal making them look ravishing. "Mikey, don't, just, let me get up-- let me up and i'll never do it again--"
Mikey fucking growls. "Don't you fucking dare. If you even try to leave, I'll make sure you regret it." He yanks their hair again, a reminder of what he can do. He wants to do so much more. He wants to leave them bloody and battered and bruised.
"Tell me, in full fucking honesty, you don't want this. Give me any reason, other than 'it's wrong', because I don't fucking care. I want this. I want you, and I've waited my whole fucking life for this. I can't do it anymore. You're gonna give me what I want, because you want it too. Say no. Say no, and I'll stop."
Gerard is dead silent, staring at Mikey with dinner-plate pupils and a face painted with every gorgeous shade of red and pink, dusting their cheeks and dipping down their neck, probably spreading down their chest too.
Mikey leans in, a wicked grin curling on his lips. "Now tell me how fucking bad you want it."
Instantly, they're speaking, saying more than they have all night.
"Mikey-- Mikey, so fucking bad, so bad. For so fucking long. But I couldn't. You know I couldn't. And I don't know if I can now. I'm so fucking scared. I want this so bad. I need it so bad it's terrifying. Need you, need this. All I think about, Mikes, you're all I think about."
And this time around, they do cry, beautiful tears welling up in their eyes and spilling down their reddened cheeks.
Mikey releases their hair, his hand coming down to swipe the tears away. When they just keep coming, he leans in and laps at them, tasting the salt, tasting Gerard's skin and sweat.
"Shhh, shhh.." He coos, stroking them like a prize pet. "It's okay now. You're gonna do it, okay? You're gonna do it because I'm telling you to. You don't even have to think, just obey. Just follow my orders. Won't be hard for you, will it? Won't be hard to be mindless, my stupid little toy?"
Gerard nods, sobbing, their hips twitching violently. "Please. Please, Mikey, wanna listen. Wanna be good. Tell-- tell me what to do. I need it. I need you."
And really, how could he resist? How could he fucking resist, when Gerard is begging him to think for them, speak for them, control them? He can't. And he doesn't.
