(no subject)
Title: Running from the Rain
Author: the lovesongwriter sings...
Pairing: Pete/Mikey
Rating: PG-13y
POV: Pete's, 3rd person.
Summary: Pete returns to New York to find the boy who got away.
Disclaimer: Not real, don't sue.
Author Note: 1737 words. Finished on June 15, 2006. The song Mikey is singing at the end is called Porcelina of the Vast Oceans by the Smashing Pumpkins. Thanks also to Thursday for writing the songs that pushed this fic into motion.
It rained the day Pete arrived in New York and he couldn't help but take it as a sign. The fact the cab that was supposed to take him to his hotel ran right through a puddle that splashed up muddy water onto his jeans and leaked into his shoes just made it all the clearer. Instead of the hotel directions, he climbed into the cab and said, "How much would it be to get to Brooklyn?"
Things fell into place after that -- one cab ride to Brooklyn, forking over nearly all the cash in his wallet (god, he thought, the things I do, as if it was the first time a rash decision seemed the best course) and being left standing outside the apartment building of the boy who got away, but pretended like he never left. Lucidity hit when he rang the bell and instead of his voice was a very familiar feminine voice: "Who's it?"
Brief pause before he said tentatively, "Hey, 'licia. It's Petey. Surprise?" Slim to none chances to see the inside of the apartment, but Pete had to take it. Silence reigned before there was an almost reluctant buzz of the door. Pete wavered for a moment, sudden insecurity and reluctance rushing up on him if he should even be here again. Why should he come crashing back into their lives to kick at the cornerstones of whatever they had built?
Too late now, he thought and made his choice -- opting to take the steps, two at a time with his suitcase bumping across the oak stairs. At the second landing, he heard someone laughing from a few flights up, echoing through the stairwell.
"Knew you'd take the stairs. It’s just so like you," came the voice he wanted, or more like desperately wished, to hear over the intercom and the thundering of footsteps in the familiar pattern of his awkward, running gait. Pete grinned, matching his own running to the fourth landing before they collided together. Pete laughed because the boy who got away was nuzzling his cheek and talking a mile a minute about things Pete couldn't catch just yet, but was still the comforting weight beneath his hands just as it always had been.
"Hello to you too, Mikey."
----
Pete vaguely wondered what Alicia thought when he sprawled out on the bed on his back with Mikey laying on his stomach next to him. The door opened only a crack so the music from the living room would slowly drift in, soft sounds of the same Blur song on repeat that Mikey had been listening to for nearly two hours straight. Mikey had his chin propped up on his hands and his glasses were at the edge of his nose, leaving him to eye Pete critically over the frames. Soon his tone was accusing in the dim lit room, "You never call, you cunt."
He didn't really have an excuse, but a lie slipped through his teeth before he could even think about it. "I've been busy." Soon as he said it and regretted it, Mikey laughed abruptly and stared him down with magnified, narrowed eyes behind the glasses’ lenses.
"Do you think I'm stupid? I saw you on television in here in January. I didn't even get a notice."
He looked over and focused on the loose thread on Mikey's sleeve and reached out to tug it, twisting it around his finger before it snapped as he said, "I was going to, okay? I just don't think Alicia likes me coming around."
Mikey leaned closer and peered down at Pete's face, comfortably uncomfortable closeness between their faces as he quirked up an eyebrow, "Would you blame her?"
Pete scowled and briefly hated Mikey again. One question and he'd have to reevaluate what he had done again. Mikey moved away as he continued to talk, "If I didn't know how emotionally stunted you were, I wouldn't be talking to you either after that summer."
Pete made a little shocked noise, punching Mikey lightly in the shoulder as he said, "That's offensive."
"So are you."
Pete looked away when Mikey moved back, sitting up at the edge of the bed. Alicia changed the song in the other room during their silence; the soft sounds gave way to loud guitars. With an exaggerated sigh when the silence between them became too much, Mikey flopped boneless back on to the bed as he continued, "Offensive. Immature. There’s a lot of words for you, Petey. You have to admit that.”
“Maybe so.”
“I don’t think there’s a lot of ‘maybe’ to this,” Mikey said, gesturing between them, “That summer was something else…”
Pete cut in finally, “But we had fun that summer, right?”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation again,” Mikey propped himself up on his side, “I swear, sometimes I think you’ll be forever stuck in pigtail-tugging signs that you like someone.”
He nodded and looked back at Mikey, reaching, and tugged on one of the highlighted forelocks and gave Mikey a cheeky, a bit hopeful grin as he said, "Should I write you a note too? Circle y or n if you like me back?"
Mikey's deafening silence was his answer.
----
If Pete could remember any single detail about Mikey, the one quirk that made him seem different to him in some simple way, it was the fact Mikey hummed when he was idle. Any wait would bring him around humming a song that he could think up. Sometimes he'd be humming the tune of crossing out the eyes or songs brought by falling bombs, his hands splayed on the counter as he waited for his coffee. Pete joined in this time, trailing off at the end with the repeat lines of falling bombs.
They ran through the rain and splashed in puddles, nearly spilling their coffees and getting the cuffs of their jeans wet and soaking through canvas shoes. Scrambling in to the back of a cab that’d carry them back to Pete’s hotel room, Mikey snuck a brush of lips across Pete’s cheek with a laugh at the rain clouds. Pete jokingly singsonged, “Rain, rain go away…”
Mikey just turned his eyes up at the gray sky and said, “I dunno. I like the rain. City looks better in gray.”
Pete liked the way Mikey didn't mind still that he rested his hand on his lower back when they sat together on the window sill of Pete’s hotel room. Mikey always had told him he never minded when people were too close. "My brother never understood the whole 'personal space' thing either. I think after you grow up with that, you get used to it."
"Get used to Gerard being in your face?" he asked just to make Mikey laugh, more of a quick exhale of breath as he shook his head. They talked, soft and slow about their lives and envy kept crawling up as Pete listened to Mikey talk softly with a little hesitation, “I think, yeah…I might really love her...”
Pete’s awful mouth opened before he could stop it. “But you said you loved me too.”
“I know, but you also said it. But to more people than I ever have,” Mikey shook his head, “Can we not talk about this again? All we do is end up getting depressed. I just…want to enjoy this. Me and you.” That’s when Pete noticed all the smiles that never reached Mikey’s eyes speaking of her, no matter how much Mikey seemed to try.
“I just…” Pete fell silent and entwined their free hands. He held on tighter like if he ever let go, Mikey would slip out the window and freefall away from him again. He didn’t want to let go again, even though he would have to. They would always have to fall away from each other.
His rash decisions seemed romantic and perfect at the moment, like they always should have been and coffees fell out of their hands and spilled across the carpet as they came together again. Lips finding lips and the final request of a dying man, “Just…once? For us. For everything...”
Mikey never sounded so beautiful then when he said, “For us.”
---
They moved from tangled sheets to backs slick against tiled bathroom walls, and then separated to pretty up their masks and slip out into the public eye. Pete was sure he was going to leave his heart here, for this boy who only knew half of everything Pete had felt. The hallway of the hotel was the muffled silence of hotels that echoed quietly as Pete took Mikey’s hand and nearly spun him fully around before he said with a near trademark sideways smile, “You look like a chick in that coat.”
Mikey laughed this time, louder and a little freer, “Coming from you? I don’t think you should be pointing out anyone’s wardrobe tastes.”
And there they were again, back to square one and it felt all right for once. Maybe this time they could really be okay and Pete felt alive for this moment, heading out into the New York streets. A roll of thunder and the freezing rain soaked into them as they walked together. Their hands brushed together as they walked; halfway down the block was when Mikey started to hum softly. A song Pete didn’t recognize but it cut off when they reached a corner, “Dance with me?”
Pete laughed, “Dance? You fuckin’ with me?”
Mikey pulled Pete close to sway them slowly side to side in an awkward slow dance, like a high school slow dance that seemed so out of place. Mikey hummed again before he sang softly, a bit out of tune, “Without a care in this whole world…”
He couldn’t breathe for a moment, trying to remember every detail to this moment. The one pure romantic moment he’d ever been in, awkward dancing beneath a streetlamp to a song Mikey was thinking of that he would find out to listen to over and over again when nights alone became too much. Pete breathed out softly with his exhale, “I wish we could work...”
Mikey didn’t pull back as he said, “One day we will.” Leaving Pete’s heart to swell and burst again, even though the small hope was all he had. It was the only thing he needed right then and it was enough.
Author: the lovesongwriter sings...
Pairing: Pete/Mikey
Rating: PG-13y
POV: Pete's, 3rd person.
Summary: Pete returns to New York to find the boy who got away.
Disclaimer: Not real, don't sue.
Author Note: 1737 words. Finished on June 15, 2006. The song Mikey is singing at the end is called Porcelina of the Vast Oceans by the Smashing Pumpkins. Thanks also to Thursday for writing the songs that pushed this fic into motion.
It rained the day Pete arrived in New York and he couldn't help but take it as a sign. The fact the cab that was supposed to take him to his hotel ran right through a puddle that splashed up muddy water onto his jeans and leaked into his shoes just made it all the clearer. Instead of the hotel directions, he climbed into the cab and said, "How much would it be to get to Brooklyn?"
Things fell into place after that -- one cab ride to Brooklyn, forking over nearly all the cash in his wallet (god, he thought, the things I do, as if it was the first time a rash decision seemed the best course) and being left standing outside the apartment building of the boy who got away, but pretended like he never left. Lucidity hit when he rang the bell and instead of his voice was a very familiar feminine voice: "Who's it?"
Brief pause before he said tentatively, "Hey, 'licia. It's Petey. Surprise?" Slim to none chances to see the inside of the apartment, but Pete had to take it. Silence reigned before there was an almost reluctant buzz of the door. Pete wavered for a moment, sudden insecurity and reluctance rushing up on him if he should even be here again. Why should he come crashing back into their lives to kick at the cornerstones of whatever they had built?
Too late now, he thought and made his choice -- opting to take the steps, two at a time with his suitcase bumping across the oak stairs. At the second landing, he heard someone laughing from a few flights up, echoing through the stairwell.
"Knew you'd take the stairs. It’s just so like you," came the voice he wanted, or more like desperately wished, to hear over the intercom and the thundering of footsteps in the familiar pattern of his awkward, running gait. Pete grinned, matching his own running to the fourth landing before they collided together. Pete laughed because the boy who got away was nuzzling his cheek and talking a mile a minute about things Pete couldn't catch just yet, but was still the comforting weight beneath his hands just as it always had been.
"Hello to you too, Mikey."
----
Pete vaguely wondered what Alicia thought when he sprawled out on the bed on his back with Mikey laying on his stomach next to him. The door opened only a crack so the music from the living room would slowly drift in, soft sounds of the same Blur song on repeat that Mikey had been listening to for nearly two hours straight. Mikey had his chin propped up on his hands and his glasses were at the edge of his nose, leaving him to eye Pete critically over the frames. Soon his tone was accusing in the dim lit room, "You never call, you cunt."
He didn't really have an excuse, but a lie slipped through his teeth before he could even think about it. "I've been busy." Soon as he said it and regretted it, Mikey laughed abruptly and stared him down with magnified, narrowed eyes behind the glasses’ lenses.
"Do you think I'm stupid? I saw you on television in here in January. I didn't even get a notice."
He looked over and focused on the loose thread on Mikey's sleeve and reached out to tug it, twisting it around his finger before it snapped as he said, "I was going to, okay? I just don't think Alicia likes me coming around."
Mikey leaned closer and peered down at Pete's face, comfortably uncomfortable closeness between their faces as he quirked up an eyebrow, "Would you blame her?"
Pete scowled and briefly hated Mikey again. One question and he'd have to reevaluate what he had done again. Mikey moved away as he continued to talk, "If I didn't know how emotionally stunted you were, I wouldn't be talking to you either after that summer."
Pete made a little shocked noise, punching Mikey lightly in the shoulder as he said, "That's offensive."
"So are you."
Pete looked away when Mikey moved back, sitting up at the edge of the bed. Alicia changed the song in the other room during their silence; the soft sounds gave way to loud guitars. With an exaggerated sigh when the silence between them became too much, Mikey flopped boneless back on to the bed as he continued, "Offensive. Immature. There’s a lot of words for you, Petey. You have to admit that.”
“Maybe so.”
“I don’t think there’s a lot of ‘maybe’ to this,” Mikey said, gesturing between them, “That summer was something else…”
Pete cut in finally, “But we had fun that summer, right?”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation again,” Mikey propped himself up on his side, “I swear, sometimes I think you’ll be forever stuck in pigtail-tugging signs that you like someone.”
He nodded and looked back at Mikey, reaching, and tugged on one of the highlighted forelocks and gave Mikey a cheeky, a bit hopeful grin as he said, "Should I write you a note too? Circle y or n if you like me back?"
Mikey's deafening silence was his answer.
----
If Pete could remember any single detail about Mikey, the one quirk that made him seem different to him in some simple way, it was the fact Mikey hummed when he was idle. Any wait would bring him around humming a song that he could think up. Sometimes he'd be humming the tune of crossing out the eyes or songs brought by falling bombs, his hands splayed on the counter as he waited for his coffee. Pete joined in this time, trailing off at the end with the repeat lines of falling bombs.
They ran through the rain and splashed in puddles, nearly spilling their coffees and getting the cuffs of their jeans wet and soaking through canvas shoes. Scrambling in to the back of a cab that’d carry them back to Pete’s hotel room, Mikey snuck a brush of lips across Pete’s cheek with a laugh at the rain clouds. Pete jokingly singsonged, “Rain, rain go away…”
Mikey just turned his eyes up at the gray sky and said, “I dunno. I like the rain. City looks better in gray.”
Pete liked the way Mikey didn't mind still that he rested his hand on his lower back when they sat together on the window sill of Pete’s hotel room. Mikey always had told him he never minded when people were too close. "My brother never understood the whole 'personal space' thing either. I think after you grow up with that, you get used to it."
"Get used to Gerard being in your face?" he asked just to make Mikey laugh, more of a quick exhale of breath as he shook his head. They talked, soft and slow about their lives and envy kept crawling up as Pete listened to Mikey talk softly with a little hesitation, “I think, yeah…I might really love her...”
Pete’s awful mouth opened before he could stop it. “But you said you loved me too.”
“I know, but you also said it. But to more people than I ever have,” Mikey shook his head, “Can we not talk about this again? All we do is end up getting depressed. I just…want to enjoy this. Me and you.” That’s when Pete noticed all the smiles that never reached Mikey’s eyes speaking of her, no matter how much Mikey seemed to try.
“I just…” Pete fell silent and entwined their free hands. He held on tighter like if he ever let go, Mikey would slip out the window and freefall away from him again. He didn’t want to let go again, even though he would have to. They would always have to fall away from each other.
His rash decisions seemed romantic and perfect at the moment, like they always should have been and coffees fell out of their hands and spilled across the carpet as they came together again. Lips finding lips and the final request of a dying man, “Just…once? For us. For everything...”
Mikey never sounded so beautiful then when he said, “For us.”
---
They moved from tangled sheets to backs slick against tiled bathroom walls, and then separated to pretty up their masks and slip out into the public eye. Pete was sure he was going to leave his heart here, for this boy who only knew half of everything Pete had felt. The hallway of the hotel was the muffled silence of hotels that echoed quietly as Pete took Mikey’s hand and nearly spun him fully around before he said with a near trademark sideways smile, “You look like a chick in that coat.”
Mikey laughed this time, louder and a little freer, “Coming from you? I don’t think you should be pointing out anyone’s wardrobe tastes.”
And there they were again, back to square one and it felt all right for once. Maybe this time they could really be okay and Pete felt alive for this moment, heading out into the New York streets. A roll of thunder and the freezing rain soaked into them as they walked together. Their hands brushed together as they walked; halfway down the block was when Mikey started to hum softly. A song Pete didn’t recognize but it cut off when they reached a corner, “Dance with me?”
Pete laughed, “Dance? You fuckin’ with me?”
Mikey pulled Pete close to sway them slowly side to side in an awkward slow dance, like a high school slow dance that seemed so out of place. Mikey hummed again before he sang softly, a bit out of tune, “Without a care in this whole world…”
He couldn’t breathe for a moment, trying to remember every detail to this moment. The one pure romantic moment he’d ever been in, awkward dancing beneath a streetlamp to a song Mikey was thinking of that he would find out to listen to over and over again when nights alone became too much. Pete breathed out softly with his exhale, “I wish we could work...”
Mikey didn’t pull back as he said, “One day we will.” Leaving Pete’s heart to swell and burst again, even though the small hope was all he had. It was the only thing he needed right then and it was enough.