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Surely There is a Song to Describe This [1/2]

Title: Surely There is a Song to Describe This
Author: cassie_roulette
Pairing: Frank/Mikey/Alicia/Jamia (and everything in between)
Rating: NC-17
POV: Third, omniscient
Summary: This fandom does not have enough epic fourways, girlfriend love or phone sex. I seek to rectify this. Inhibitions prohibited, pants optional.
Disclaimer: Obviously not real.
Author Notes: I couldn't sleep the other night and this just sort of happened. Originally meant to be a one-shot sex scene, but I'm a plot whore and now thanks to the LJ character limit per entry it's in two parts.
Dedications: For Emma, because I love her. <3 This also goes out to the whole damn Shanty Town Crew, the fanbrethren who waited in line with me outside Madison Square Garden in the pouring rain for countless hours. There are too many of you to name but I love you all.
Warnings: Inexcusable amounts of sex with both sets of parts, dirty talking and Pete Wentz.

The first time it happened, it was a joke.

It was during those couple of months that thanks to Pete's incessant need to Brand and Title Everything Poetically and Ironically, Mikey would always remember as the Summer of Like.

The two of them had been rebounding off one another, backs against the Fall Out Boy bus while the sun was setting, laughing and joking and Pete kept going on about the Fraternal Order of the Handsome Boy (of which they were the only two members, of course) and was loudly introducing Mikey to innocent passer-bys at the Duke of Handsomeness.

So Mikey was in a pretty good mood. And when Pete had suggested that they start leaving their friends dirty voicemails, it had sounded like an awesome idea. He'd been a little gun-shy so Pete had volunteered to go first. He'd meant to do that thing where you can just send a voice message without having the number ring but they were being stupid and Pete totally called Patrick by mistake and when met with the bland greeting of 'Hey what's up?' Pete had proceeded to moan dramatically and pant through his open mouth, rubbing his chest with his free hand and doing his best impersonation of a tacky, high-pitched, Spanglish-speaking female phone sex operator, mostly consisting of the phrases aye papi and si si. si. SI.

It was the accent that did it for Mikey. Had him doubling over at the waist and covering his laughter with his hands, shoulders shaking painfully and he couldn't even breathe it was so fucking funny.

Patrick, used to such things, had just sighed dramatically and eventually hung up on him.

Pete announced that he had emerged the victor and that the conversation had been a Huge Success and it was now time for Mikey to do one.

The laughter calmed down to a few spaced out giggles and while Mikey's stomach was twisted up with butterflies and nerves, there was no way he was going to back out now.

"So who should I call?"


Frank was still at the Skeleton Crew booth amongst the other tents on the makeshift Warped Tour marketplace when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

New voicemail.

He hadn't heard it ring though.

Flipping it open the message displayed that it was from Mikey.

It was kind of crowded and loud and Jamia was right there and could hold things down for a few minutes so he held the phone up with a grin and the typical one finger signifier of "just a second", stepping maybe twenty feet away from the tent as he pressed the phone up against to ear to hear what Mikey had to say. And while it was a little staticy and fuzzy he could definitely hear enough to make him stop in his tracks and his face go pale.

"...uhn yeah, I'm uh, I'm... what? Fuck you I'm not gonna say that... I- I- okay- I'm rubbing my nipples-"

Even though everything Mikey was saying was peppered with those Dork Giggles that he did when he was in his element, apparently the word 'nipples' was enough to reduce him to a cackling mess for a good fifteen seconds before he was able to continue.

"And like- it feels really. Good. It makes me wanna touch my penis."

And that was definitely the laughter of Pete Wentz in the background, that fucking enabler, and if Frank wasn't quite so annoyed that Mikey was having this much fun without him then he would also be laughing along with the way the guy said 'penis'.


Seriously, what was he, eight?

At this point there was more snickering and whispered exchanges between the two of the other end of the phone than the "message" itself, though Mikey did manage to wrap the whole ordeal up with "Oh man I just jizzed in my pants, okay. Bye."

The audible shit-eating grin encased in the word "bye" had dissolved into laughter and then the message clicked off, with Frank left standing, staring off into space, eventually shaking his head and walking back over to the table where he sat down in the chair next to Jamia.

"Who was that?"

"Just Mikey being stupid."


Pete was there when it happened the second time as well.

But this time it was a show, not a Warped show, Midtown at some sweaty little club in Jersey and Mikey was the only My Chem member there, none of the other guys really ran with Pete's crew, and Mikey was drunk.

He was wearing his long gray coat and he fucking loved that long gray coat with its high collar and the two rows of black buttons but it was like, this sick kind of non-breathable ultra-wool that must have come from mutant arctic sheep and all Mikey wanted in the world was to step outside for some fresh air and shrug it off but Pete was beckoning him over to meet some girls he'd been chatting up, immediately throwing a firm arm around Mikey's shoulders and squeezing him in close, telling them that this was "Mikeyway of Em-Cee-Fucking-Arr."

There were three girls and none of them looked particularly smart. Or legal. But one of them finally had a dawning of understanding pass over her face and she said "Ohhh, you're in My Chem? Do you know the singer?"

And Mikey had said "Yeah!" with that same fanboy tone to his voice that always came out when Pete was around these days. Especially when he was hammered. Didn't seem to react in the sense that of course he fucking knew "the singer" if they were in the same fucking band. Mikey's eyes were wide and naive while Pete's narrowed to cautious slits.

"Yeah, I know Gerard Way! He's famous!" To him this was fucking golden comedic material but there was a pause, as all three of them made that face that bitchy girls make when they're slightly disgusted with how uncool someone is. He went on with "I'm Mikey Way!" Because duh.

One of them simply replied with "Oh".

Pete didn't outright bristle at the unspoken implication that these girls were only interested in his best friend's older brother but so far as he was concerned the conversation was over. With a sigh and a chuckle he said "Excuse me ladies" and steered Mikey further into the club, onto the floor, pulling Mikey against his chest even though he was the shorter of the two and skillfully managed to get Mikey's drink away from him by means of lacing their fingers together around the cup and gradually retracting it.

"Don't listen to those stupid girls Mikeyway."

Pete's breath was warm against Mikey's ear and it made him shiver, made his eyes slide closed and a tiny sigh escape from his lips.

There's a long pause before he responds.

"I wasn't."

"Wasn't what?"


Pete just chuckles a little, pressing his lips up against the front of Mikey's throat so that he can feel the laugh as much as hear it.

This was just sort of- how they were. Mikey and Pete. The Sweet Little Dudes. The Fraternal Order of the Handsome Boy. Best friends and not-lovers but close and possessive and only really gay from the waist up.

On Pete's end anyways.

Mikey worked his arms around Pete's back and Pete grinned his Wolf Grin appreciatively until he realized that Mikey was only trying to get his drink back.

"No Mikeyway."

Pete always said his name like that. One word. An entity of itself and not attached to Gee at all. It made Mikey feel special. Like he wasn't just The Bassist or The Quiet One or Gerard's Brother.

Not with Pete anyways. Not with the rest of his band either of course, but Pete wasn't in his band and it was refreshing to be able to extend his circle of comfort just that much wider.

"But Pete-"

Mikey is pulling far enough back to flash Pete that puppy-dog face that works every damn time and they're still pretty much pressed together at the hips and for the millionth time since the beginning of the Summer Pete wonders if he could ever be gay below the waist for Mikeyway.

It's not like he wasn't making up a hundred rules and exceptions already. It's not gay if you keep your pants on. It's not gay if you keep your eyes closed.

Pete however is now looking at something, more specifically someone over Mikey's shoulder, on the other side of the club, someone who he never expected to see here in a million fucking years.

"Hold on Mikeyway, there's someone I want you to meet."


This time Frank is alone in a hotel room. Warped was over and another tour would be starting soon but for now the guys had a little under a week to relax and do their own thing. For Gerard this had meant taking a trip up to New York to see some of his old friends from college. For Ray it had meant quality time at home with his family. And for Frank-

For Frank it meant getting drunk in this room like a sad motherfucker because Jamia had plans with her friends for that weekend, plans that had been in place for months apparently, before they knew that this would be time they could see one another off tour. And he wasn't mad, certainly not at her at least.

But with no one else around he was sure as fuck gonna sulk about it.

The mini-fridge was nearly emptied of the tiny overpriced airplane sized liquor bottles that Frank would play with when he wasn't in such sour spirits and pretend he was a giant and stomp around wrecking havoc on Tokyo and really, did that city ever get a fucking break?

Right when a smile was starting to form at the last time he'd done that in front of Jamia his phone rang.

Buzzed rather.

He had a voicemail.


When Mikey had agreed to go to the Midtown show he'd never imagine that he'd end up here.

Wedged into a dirty bathroom stall, utterly wasted and barely able to stand, crushed plastic cups at his feet that had been holding Jack and Coke until he'd drained it and dropped it where he stood, simultaneously making out with Pete Wentz and this really fucking hot girl with black hair and heavy eye makeup and a Manowar t-shirt that Mikey had said was really badass right before Pete had shoved him up against the wall.

Pete was currently sucking on his neck and the girl was on her knees, yanking his skinny jeans down around his ankles, pushing the thick folds of his long gray coat with the high collar and the two rows of black buttons aside, her nose pressed into the junction of his thighs, inhaling the heady scent of masculine arousal that Mikey could attest to thinking was attractive from his drunken experiences in the past of messing around with guys.

Mikey vaguely remembered being introduced to her while out on the floor, a good friend of his, maybe an ex, he didn't remember, and she'd known who he was, said she liked his shit, said she played bass too.

Pete and her had shared one of those looks that maybe Mikey would have been able to read if he hadn't been so fucking plastered.

"And Mikeyway," Pete had drawled, running a suggestive hand down the front of Mikey's chest as Mikey had blushed, bewildered. "Mikeyway really needs to get laid tonight."

So here they were, panting in the cramped space of what Mikey couldn't remember was the men's or women's restroom.

Right when she took him into her mouth and Mikey had let out a strangled groan, Pete had whispered into his ear "Oh man, you need to call Frank again."



Frank was pissed off.

Where the fuck did Mikey get off pulling this shit. It had been one thing as a joke, something he'd probably do himself but this-

"Frank I fucking- I can't-"

And then there was Pete's voice in the background, murmuring softly for him to just say exactly what was happening.

"It's so- fucking- hot and good- her fucking mouth- fucking mouth Frank-"

After that it's mostly just moaning, Mikey fucking moaning, telling him how good it feels and how he's so fucking close and he's gonna fucking come and when he does the sounds that Frank hears over the phone vibrate into his fucking bones.

Soon after the message clicks off, his phone was prompting him if he wanted to dial 7 to delete, dial 9 to save or dial 8 to play again.

He's livid. He doesn't have fucking anyone and Mikey is supposed to be his friend and while he'd suspected in the past that maybe he and Pete had messed around he seriously didn't want to actually know about it.

And yeah, he knows that Mikey would have no way of knowing that Frank was pouting sans-Jamia in a hotel room. Mikey's his best friend. And Frank knows that he's drunk and in the morning he'll probably be mortified about the whole thing.

It takes him a moment to realize how fucking hard he is.

His phone prompts him his options again.

And his other hand is already down the front of his boxers when he closes his eyes and hits 8.


Mikey had actually dropped his phone at some point after coming and he's just leaning against the wall and breathing and trying really hard not to puke because any kind of activity while that drunk would make the stomach reel.

So he doesn't realize at first that Pete has his hand down the back of the girls pants, reaching, that she's being pressed face first into the wall next to Mikey, that she's groaning and Pete's pulling her neck back by the hair and she's baring her teeth and fucking growling and if he hadn't come about three minutes ago he'd probably be- well- coming.

And when she's reduced to panting herself, arms folded against the wall and leaning against them and laughing low and husky in the back of her throat Mikey finds the ability to speak.

"What- what did you say your name was?"

She smirks from under the fall of her hair.



Frank gets an actual call from Mikey at about 11am the following morning. Groggy and sheepish.


Mikey remembered just enough from the previous night to know that yeah, Pete had talked him into leaving Frank another "dirty voicemail". And this really wasn't a conversation that he wanted to have, but well, Frank and Mikey had a pretty amazing friendship. They'd lived together, they'd toured together, they'd seen each other naked countless times out of necessity and laziness. Had heard each other jerk off on multiple occasions.

But this was different and Mikey just needed to fucking- talk to him.

Frank's voice isn't much better as he groans out "Hey, what's up?" and shifts in the hotel's sheets.

"Uh. Not a lot. Hey. Did I uh? Look, I was really fucking beyond drunk last night and I- I didn't leave you any weird messages or anything, did I?"

Frank knows that this is the point where he can decide how the conversation goes. It's in his hands really, and maybe if it was someone else, anyone else, he would have lied, smooth and non-chalant, that yeah, there'd been a message but he couldn't hear a damn thing, just a bunch of static, shitty signal or something.

But it was Mikey.

That thought right there carried so much weight that couldn't even consider entering into what would probably end up becoming a complicated lie with him.

"Yeah, you could say that."

There's a silence that goes on for almost too long and Frank wonders if Mikey actually hung up or just threw the phone across the room but then he hears the faint groan of "-Christ-"

"Hey dude, you were drunk, whatever."

Just ignore the fact that Mikey had been moaning Frank's name and not the girl's and that Frank had jerked himself off to the sound of Mikey coming like, twice last night.

Mikey didn't say anything.

"So what's the girl's name, anyways? She cool?"

This is apparently a safe enough subject and had Mikey talking again.

"Yeah, she is actually. Um. Her name's Alicia. I kind of passed out after, um-" He cleared his throat self consciously. "But Pete got me a cab and I got to a hotel and when I woke up I had her number written on my arm."

Frank grinned genuinely into the phone for a few seconds until he realized that Mikey couldn't see the reaction she he finally blurts out "Dude, that's awesome" and suddenly everything's okay again.


Three months go by before Mikey got the text message from Jamia.

It had taken him a week after the night in the bar to get up the nerve to call Alicia. After that everything had fallen into place.

She was badass and smart and she knew music and she played his instrument and she was really fucking hot. Like, handsome in a way that no girl had a right to be. A strong jaw and broad shoulders and thick wrists and the first time they'd fucked around sober Mikey had never come so hard just from having a girl rub her thigh up between his legs.

Actually, he wasn't sure if a girl had ever done that to him before at all.

And it wasn't that she wasn't feminine, wasn't beautiful, but there was this balance he saw in her between her male and female sides and they just clicked together so fucking well, complimented each other, could fill in the gaps that made each of them weird and awkward when they stood on their own.

Mikey's life was pretty awesome.

And then, one day, he had a text from Jamia on his phone and when he checked it it only read 'can you keep a secret?'

He'd responded with a non-comittal and slightly worried 'maybe, is something wrong with frank?'

Mikey was silently amused at what a slow texter she was. Obviously a friendship with Pete Wentz had spoiled him.

Two whole minutes later his phone buzzed with 'nothing's wrong. i just need to tell you something. wanna grab coffee?'

And seriously, when didn't he?


Mikey's always liked Jamia. She was obviously in this for the long haul and her and Frank were rather mutually retarded for each other. Jamia was a no-nonsense kind of girl, didn't give a shit what anyone else thought of her, didn't spend her free time primping and preening in front of a mirror and had obviously won Frank over back in the day on sheer Awesomeness alone.

And even if he hadn't seen all the evidence firsthand himself, Mikey figured that anyone who could have Frank Iero literally doodling her initial in the center of hearts on his guitar straps had to be something special.

Today Jamia was wearing those white, oversized sunglasses that Frank loved so much and he couldn't decide whether it would be more likely that they each had a pair or that she'd stolen his. Her smile was enigmatic as she waited for both of them to take a few sips of coffee, her lips curling up like a cat with a mouse, so patient and yet so eager all at the same time.

"So," she began, leaning forward on her forearms over the little table on the patio of the Starbucks they'd met at, fingers laced together and looking entirely too pleased with herself for Mikey to feel comfortable.

"So," he echoed, peering at her from over the top of his own unnecessarily posh and oversized sunglasses.

"So a few days ago I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of Frank jerking off in the bathroom."

While Mikey managed not to spit coffee at her he did make some rather amazing choked noises that would have been laughter if there wasn't suddenly latte in his nasal passages.

Upon composing himself he arched an eyebrow rich with amusement. "I don't know how to tell you this Jamia, but most guys masturbate all the fucking time."

The look on her face was one of a teacher patronizing a very dense student.

"He was doing it with his cellphone pressed against his ear."

Mikey could feel the pit of his stomach descend into some negative anti-space below him but he managed to keep a straight face.

"Did... you ask him why?"

"No, he didn't know I was watching him."

Mikey was suddenly insanely glad she'd suggested they have this little meeting far, far away from anyone else he'd ever met or known.

"I mean, I thought it was genuinely weird, so the next day when he was out I looked at his recent calls to see if he was like, calling one of those phone sex lines."

Mikey had to laugh at that, the idea completely ridiculous and he said as much.

"Yeah, I know. And the last person he'd called was me. So."

She paused, giving Mikey a strange smile, so open with her amusement and yet so mysterious with the secret piece of the puzzle that she knew and he didn't.

Finally he bites. "So... did you find anything?"

"I did."

Jamia took a long, indulgent sip of coffee before continuing.

"And what I found was a voicemail that he'd downloaded into his phone as an audio file. You know, so that his inbox couldn't delete it after thirty days or whatever."

Mikey could barely think let alone breathe.

"So tell me Mikeyway. Would you like to explain to me why my boyfriend has a voicemail on his phone of you moaning his name?"

He would have been scared for his life and his balls if she hadn't still been smiling. That confident, predatory... scary fucking smile and maybe his relief had come too quickly.

"I- I mean-" and then "Wait, he saved it to his phone?"

Jamia's permission and prompting for him to further explain himself came in the form of her silence and her eyebrow raising ever higher.

"Jamia, like- I was so drunk." His expression was absolutely pathetic and her smile grew wider. "And it was totally Pete idea, like all of it." His hands were running through his hair. "I really don't remember what I even said, just that it was the first time me and Alicia ever- you know-"

Her face gradually knit into a study of interest. Curiosity. Like suddenly there's a piece that she's missing too.

"So... you didn't know that he saved the message?"

"No!" His voice cracked a little too much for his own lacking and he winced at the shrill nature of it. "No, I mean, I had no fucking idea. And he- I mean you saw him-" The mental image produced this amazing effect of all the blood draining from his face and then returning tenfold for a nice, painful blush.

Her Cheshire smile was back.

"You know I think it's hot, right?"



"Well I do."

Mikey mused that Jamia and Alicia really needed to hang out more. Kindred souls they were. Of being frighteningly right all the time and completely pleased with themselves for it.

"I uh- I'm glad you're not here to kick me in the balls then."

"Oh far from it. I just wanted to see where you stood on the whole thing and then ask your help with something."

Mikey's almost afraid to ask. Like, honestly, really afraid because girls like Jamia were fucking scary when they started plotting.

"And what would that be?"

Jamia's devious grin could give Pete's a run for his money.


"She wants you to what?"

Mikey's starting to get a little annoyed by the way girls smirked over this sort of thing. He hadn't known what he'd expected, but Alicia's sheer fucking delight wasn't it.

"Oh fuck Mikey, you have to do it now."

"Alicia, I don't know how!"

"What, you've never had phone sex before?"

"Not with my best friend!"

The band was on a brief hiatus and that fact was the only reason Mikey was even remotely considering this.

"Look, if it goes bad you can just tell him you were drunk."


What if it goes good?

The unspoken question was like a giant pink elephant in the middle of the room and Mikey blushed furiously even though he hadn't said anything.

Alicia studied him for a moment, tilted her head to the side and took in the way his eyes were wide and he was chewing on his lower lip and he was talking in that soft, stilted way that he mostly reserved for interviews in which Gerard did all the talking.

"Oh baby-"

And then she's scooting over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into her collarbone and he didn't even fight it. She just- got him like that. Treated him the way that Pete almost had, dominant and yet fiercely protective and the way his eyes slid closed and his arms looped her waist was his way of saying that this was everything he'd ever wanted.

"I know you don't want to fuck up your friendship with him." And that wasn't all of it but she wasn't finished. "And I know that you're afraid it's going to make things weird with us." And yeah, he was- "But Mikey-" Her lips are curved and sensual against the fluff of his hair. "Do you even know how hot I think this is?"

"You and Jamia are both insane."

"What, and you're telling me that you wouldn't want to hear me have phone sex with her?"

Damn her flawless logic.

The imagery it evokes has Mikey moaning a little into her neck and she can feel him getting hard against her thigh and Alicia knows she's won.

"So what's the plan then?"


It's two days later when entrapment ensues.

Frank and Jamia are at their house and Mikey and Alicia are at theirs' and Jamia is supposed to get Frank all hot and bothered and then need to leave the room when her phone rings. It's just Mikey calling of course and when she texts back to say that she's out of the room he's then supposed to call Frank, actually call him this time instead of just leaving a message.

That's the part that has Mikey truly mortified but Alicia's there with him and she's been feeding him drinks for about an hour and suddenly it's time.

Jamia's text confirms that everything is going swimmingly and that Frank's pretty buzzed and pretty horny and Alicia is literally bouncing up and down in place with excitement and Mikey has to shush her when he takes a deep breath and dials Frank's number.

He's not anywhere near as gone as he was the night in the bathroom but it's enough for him to realize that he can do this.

The phones rings one time too many and just when Mikey's starting to think that maybe Frank won't answer the dialing tone cuts off with Frank's voice.


"H-hey Frank."

Alicia's about to burst into giggles once more but Mikey glares at her and while that's even funnier she calms herself, having to turn away and cover her face and bite her lip.

There's a beat of silence. Frank speaks first.

"So what's up?"

"Uh, not much. I'm kind of drunk."

Frank giggles a little, that soft girly giggle that's always made Mikey uncomfortable in a way he didn't want to think about. "Yeah man, me too."

Mikey feigns ignorance. "Really? Sweet." And then Frank's giggling again.

Mikey's eyes scrunch closed because this is the hard part.

"So is Jamia around?"

He can hear Frank's breath catch, as if the subject catches him off guard. Alicia nods in encouragement, not exactly coaching him but contributing her advice through facial expressions.

"She uh. Had to leave the room."

And here's his chance.

"Shit, I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

Frank's laugh is lower this time and Mikey can practically hear the way his eyes slide closed in drunken amusement. "Not really, someone else beat you to it."

If Mikey hadn't known that Frank had been jerking off to the sound of his voice he never would have had the balls to say what he said next. His free hand is covering his eyes, wincing in anticipation of this all backfiring horribly.

"So like-" fuck say something "What are you wearing?"

Alicia hides her face in her pillow.

Mikey's about ready to laugh it off as the seconds tick by, to call Frank out for 'totally falling for it' or whatever when he hears an uncomfortable swallow from the other side of the line.

"Are you serious?"

And there's no anger there, just a strange, sobering confusion and the overtone that if Mikey is making fun of him then Frank will kill him-

"Yeah man. Um. I wanna know."

There's another century long pause.


A wave of heat rakes it's way down Mikey's body and his eyes slide closed of their own accord. When Alicia hears his little intake of air she pries her face out of the pillow, taking in the way that Mikey's body language has gone from uncomfortable and awkward to nervous and turned on. Her posture shifts forward, not approaching him, just watching, carefully, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.

Mikey know she's there and wants her there and thinks it's hot as shit that she's watching him but he just can't fucking- look at her when he's doing it. So the eyes stay closed and he takes a deep breath and continues.

"I guess Jamia's call came at a bad time, huh?"

Frank's laugh is shaky and nervous. "Yeah. You could say that."

And this is so stupid, Mikey doesn't even know how people can pay money to call hotlines and have someone say this shit, to take it seriously when it can't actually sound sexy at all-

The rough little intake of breath breaks Mikey out of his train of thought, suddenly straining to catch more of something that he hadn't even been trying to hear in the first place.



"What are you doing?"

The silence isn't as long this time, as if Frank has decided that if Mikey truly wants to know then he might as well tell him.

"I'm- jerking off."

And there it is. Mikey's reaction of "-fuck-" comes out completely genuine, the word catching in his throat, his own free hand wandering from covering his face down to touching his bare chest, just needing the contact, the alcohol in his system only supplementing the warm, tingling sensations that play along the surface of his skin.

"What about you Mikey?"

And now it's fucking on.

Mikey doesn't know if Jamia's given him any kind of warning, whispered her fantasies into his ear, if Frank himself had made some reference to wanting this. He doesn't know, he's flying blind, but it's officially too late to stop.

"Yeah- yeah me too."


The whole world was starting to curl in and swirl around Mikey's body, his hips shifting a little of their own free will. "What are you doing Frank?" And because he fucking wants to know he quickly adds "Like... specifically. Tell me what you're doing to yourself." Mikey is never this fucking dominant but there's something heady and powerful about the situation, and the fact that he doesn't have to actually look at Frank gives him the courage to say this shit.

"I'm-" and then he hesitates, like he doesn't want to sound too eager, like he's struggling against that then, torn between his dignity and his hormones. "I've got my hand on my dick-" It helps when Mikey moans under his breath in response "Just like- going slow-"

Mikey starts talking without provocation. "I'm just kind of touching my stomach." He can hear Alicia shift on the bed.

"Take your time with it-"

"I'm so fucking hard-"

"God I know-"

"-'m just- rubbing myself- through my boxers-"


"-shit it feels so fucking good-"

The situation had escalated without any conscious effort on Mikey's part, swept up in the building heat of the moment and before he knew it he didn't even care that Alicia was watching, didn't care that Jamia was probably eavesdropping on her end of things.

And then Frank took it to a whole 'nother level.

"Are you thinking about me?"

Break in rhythm.


"Are you thinking about me, Mikey?"

"D-doing what?"

Like a transfer of energy, Frank can feel himself receive the upper hand, wrapping the control around himself and grinding his hips upwards into his own fist indulgently.

"Touching you. That your hand is my hand."

Well he sure as fuck was now.

"I- f- I mean- now I am-"


For the first time since he'd dialed Frank's number, Mikey cracked his eyes open to look at Alicia. Her eyes were half-lidded, her expression smoldering and lips flushed. Hunger was written across her face and the pillow that she'd once been silencing her laughter with was now placed over her lap with one hand beneath it.


"Mikes? You still there?"

The nickname grounded Mikey, truly drove home the fact that this was Frank on the line.

"Yeah." His voice was steady. Breathy but on two feet. "Tell me what you're doing to me Frank."

Alicia whimpered in the back of her throat.

"God, Mikey-" Frank's voice sounded forced, his breathing ragged from the motion of jerking his arm. "Do you remember that message you left me?"

Mikey's breathless laugh was more of a gasp than anything else. "Barely."

"You were moaning for me Mikey. Fucking- moaning-" He paused to groan himself. "I want to hear those fucking noises again. I want it to be for me, Mikey. Like I was the one with my mouth on your dick, sucking you off." Whether or not Frank had been asking him to, Mikey couldn't help the ragged cry from leaving his lips. "Yeah, you want that?"

Frank's voice was loud and clear from Mikey's end of the phone and Mikey didn't need to ask if Alicia had heard the question or not. He wasn't even stroking himself properly yet, still rubbing his cock over his boxers but he already felt like he was about to die from pleasure. His eyes locked with hers, silent communication between the two that spoke volumes of trust and fidelity and when she nodded and grinned a little wider, a little more feral, Mikey didn't hesitate to answer Frank's question.

"Yeah, I want that."

"Fucking tell me what you want."

Mikey's eyes slid closed again but this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment. "I want your mouth, Frank." Frank's little whimper egged him on. "I want that fucking- dirty fucking mouth on my dick- wanna fucking grab your hair and make you take it-"

"Is that what you're thinking about right now? While you're fucking your hand?"

Mikey seethed in his breath and raised his hips off the bed to shove down his boxers, wedging his phone between his ear and his shoulder, legs falling open naturally as his fingers curled without conscious thought around his length. "Yes-"

"Are you thinking about what it would feel like if I ran my tongue up your cock?"

It took Mikey a moment to realize that his imagination hadn't seized control of his body, that someone was in fact licking up his dick. His gasp of pleasure was enough to earn one in return from Frank, Mikey's eyes wide as he looked down to see Alicia's devious smile flash at him before she lowered her head back down, clearly waiting, just breathing along the heated skin.

"What else?" His voice was pained, trying to buck up into Alicia's touch but she was having none of it, her hands firm on his hips, keeping him down. She'd batted his hands aside, leaving Mikey free to hold the phone once more.

"I'd probably just taste you for a while-" In all the years that Mikey had known Frank, he'd never known that he was capable of saying this shit- "Fucking tease you, make you squirm for it-" And damn her, Alicia was acting it out perfectly, flicking her tongue out across the tip, letting her hot breath ghost along his dick, making him shiver and writhe under the grip of her hands.


"Yeah, just like that Mikey, fucking make you beg for it-"


"God, you're gonna have to do better than that Mikey-"

"Frank I need it-"

"Need what?"

"-fucking- mouth-"

"What do you want me to do Mikey?"

"Put your fucking mouth on me-"

"Are you gonna make those noises for me? Fucking pull my hair and fuck my throat?"


"Then fucking take it Mikey-"

Mikey's fingers had wound tight into Alicia's hair, straining his forearm and pulling her down, eyes shut tight and planting his feet firmly on the bed as her lips finally closed around his dick and he thrust upwards. This was by no means the first time they'd played rough and she was ready for it, relaxing the muscles in her throat and swallowing, moaning around him as her boyfriend moaned another man's name.

"Frank- feels so- fucking good-"

"Yeah Mikey, tell me what it feels like-"

"Fucking hot- fucking wet-"

"Mmm, do you even know how many times I've listened to that fucking message of yours?"

"Tell me-"

"All the fucking time Mikey. All the fucking time-"

"Do you touch yourself?"

"-fuck yes-"

"Ever thought about fucking me?"

Stakes raised. Ante up.



Mikey groans loud and pulls harder on Alicia's hair and she's all too eager to suck harder.

His voice is a hissing growl. "How do you want me Frank?"

"Wanna fucking- bend you over-"

"-fuck yes-"

"-work you with my fingers, make you desperate for me, make you beg for my cock-"

In his entire life, Mikey can't remember a time that he'd been more turned on.

"-I want it-"

"Yeah you want this Mikey? Want me to give it to you good and hard?"

"-sh-shit- Frank-"

At this point Alicia had crawled up his chest, one hand working him hard and fast while the other was planted on Mikey's ribs for balance, her eyes burning into his, listening-

"Feel me fucking move inside you-"

"Frank I'm gonna-"



"Come on Mikey-"

"Gonna- come-"



Alicia's hand twists and that's all it takes, has his neck thrown back and hips grinding upwards, the sound escaping his lips bordering on a scream.

The world goes to white and then black and the thick pressure that had been vicing around his head lets up to leave a too-loud buzzing sound ringing in his ears and for a few seconds he can catch the end of Frank's orgasm.

Then comes the silence, two sets of lungs panting, desperate for breath, hues of laughter barely discernible in each.


"Hello Mikey."

Jamia's voice.

"Uh- h-hey Jamia-"

Her voice is rich with amusement and pleasure. "I think I can take over from here Mikey. I'm sure you've got some unfinished business on your end, too."

And with that the phone clicks off.

Mikey laughs and goes to arch his back up to stretch only to realize that Alicia's warm weight is pinning him down, her thighs on either side of his collarbone.

"You did a very good job Mikeyway." Her voice is a purr, naked from the waist down and letting him see just how turned on she is. "And now you get to show me just how much you appreciate what an awesome girlfriend I am."

His enthusiasm was even more than she'd hoped for.


yay! new story!
Oh my fucking fuck!

That was probably the hottest thing I've read in a long time.
I cannot even formulate a complete comment right now. I promise I'll comment better later. Good God.

Probably not something I should be reading @ 2 in the morning...
Usually phone sex doesn't do it for me but damn was that hot!
Oh gosh, amazing!
I dislike Pete Wentz but right now, he is the man.

And... Jamia should receive a call from Alicia, i'm totally wanting it now.
New OT4?




I need new underwear damn you.
I second that. All of it.
Oh my goodness!

That was...I can't even describe how awesome that was!

LOVED this!

that was fucking amazing. I'm in awe.
I, um. Um. *points at useless puddle on floor that used to be brain* Erm. Speechless, me. Um. Wow. I can't form normal sentences, now. Um.

HOLY JESUS THIS WAS GOOD. SO SO GOOD OH MY GOD. And the giiiiiiiiiiirls! And Pete! Oh my god you are awesome. ♥
This is great. Seriously.

um wow. wooooooow...
no words, just...
part 2?
so i think everyone that has read this creamed their pants.
and shit, i dont fucking blame them.
this was AMAZING.
cannot wait for part two.
im liking the whole Jamia/Alicia thing people are trhowing around too.
OMFG *fans self* more? cos... fuck that was hot

Hot damn...
More, dude. More.

*takes a bazillion cold showers*
Holy. Fucking. Shit. O.O

I loved this so hard.
and, not gonna lie, i totally have a girl boner.
Oh fuck.

I have no words.


goddaaaammn. argh, hnh. no, not getting there. just AH. mm. love.♥♥


*twitch twitch*
ngnnggnngnasjjksadkjfh;kjsed afBSDGNCkhag:„¨‰©ƒaiwuteriw%&$&^*$&^$&*^^(*^&*^0
hotter than hell!!
this is getting mems right now!!1


fuck *falls to the floor*
that was... AMAZING!!!
i love it!
fucking hot!
Frank/Mikey+phonesex=mind blowing hot

More soon!

p.s. please read and comment on my work!
Please please please please for the love of my sanity
Make a part 2
Fear and Regret

July 2008

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