Buzz, Buzz, Buzz.
Title: Buzz, Buzz, Buzz.
Author: letsgetsavvy
Pairing: Patrick Stump / Pete Wentz.
POV: Third.
Summary: When Pete crashes his head to the pillow that night, he dreams of bells on church towers, tambourines and whistles. When he wakes up, he reckons he knows why. His ears are ringing, like somebody left the back door open and the monotonous alarm was going off.
Warnings: Two tiny f-bombs.
Disclaimer: True: The left lung is smaller than the right to make room for the heart. False: This work of fiction.
Author Notes: Title and cut belong to Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes by Fall Out Boy.
-
Pete plays bass in a mildly successful band. Occasionally, they tour the country and overseas to play shows.
One day, on a Wednesday, Pete and his band play to thousands of people who dance like the band is shooting their feet.
They play their set, and the crowd sings along with smiles on their faces and their merch on their backs. Pete's friend, Patrick, sings to them while Pete screams. They sing and scream back enthusiastically. Pete tells them that they're the best and leaves the stage.
When Pete crashes his head to the pillow that night, he dreams of bells on church towers, tambourines and whistles. When he wakes up, he reckons he knows why. His ears are ringing, like somebody left the back door open and the monotonous alarm was going off.
*
On the Thursday, Pete spends more time chatting to Patrick onstage, in a vain attempt to stop the ringing that will definitely come later. But, when his own voice comes back a hundred decibels louder, he knows at once that he's fucked up, and his ears will scream like the crowd no matter what.
That night, Pete dreams of school, the last period before Summer in particular. He's sitting in his old World History class, with him looking twenty-five and everybody else still looking seventeen, because he hasn't caught up with anybody in almost ten years, because he never really cared.
When the bell rings, it's not the familiar yet forgotten scream of freedom, but the taunting drone of ringing ears.
*
On the Friday, Pete and his band have a day off in some hole of a town that he can't remember the name of, but knows it ends with 'ville'. Pete spends about three hours in a dizzy, ringing reverie that consists of actual record stores that smell of vinyl, singing autographs while snapping photos, and talking to Patrick.
All he remembers is going into a discount store and buying earplugs.
*
On the Saturday, Pete screams to the crowd more than he usually does, and they eat it up. They dance more, and scream like their hair is on fire, and when he tells them that they're the best so far, he means it this time and they can tell.
Patrick sings to them while Pete dances, and when they leave, everybody has a smile plastered on their face.
That night, Pete puts the purple earplugs in his ears before dropping his head to the starchy hotel pillow.
That night, he can't sleep, because he learns that the ringing intensifies if he plugs his ears.
That night, Pete goes to a twenty-four hour coffee shop and drinks himself awake.
*
The Sunday's show could have been better. That's what Pete reckons, anyway, and the only reason he thinks so is that he can just tell, because he's played so many of them.
The crowd can't tell. They scream, and Pete wishes they wouldn't, so he talks more, but it's all insomniac drabble, and he couldn't tell you ten minutes later what the fuck it all meant.
He tells Patrick, who rolls his eyes like dice. Pete takes little notice of the bags under them, because he's drifting in and out of his own awareness. His ears are ringing by the time the van pulls up to the hotel.
That night, Pete accidently on purpose stumbles into the wrong room. He's about to turn back, but the sight before his eyes traps his interest.
Patrick is lying on the mattress (but under the dull sheets) without his glasses on and in his pajamas. He's staring up at the ceiling, and Pete immediately empathises with him.
"It's not going away," Patrick mumbles, then whimpers as he covers his ears.
Pete just stares at him in fascination and asks, what's not going away.
Patrick mumbles something about his ears, and how they're screaming their one-note battlecry.
"How long?" Pete asks, and Patrick replies, two or three hours. Pete prompts him further, and he sighs before saying six or seven days.
Pete smiles through the ringing in his own ears, kicks off his old shoes (they hit the wall with a dull thunk) and walks into his own room.
Patrick sits up in alarm, his eyes frantically searching for the shadow of his friend in the dark room. He has to be honest, though, Pete could be standing right at him and he probably wouldn't be able to tell: his eyes were on the nightstand to his right. He can hear the echo of Pete's movements, but they're being mercilessly mauled by the ringing in his own ears.
He's about to crash back onto the bed, but sees the shadow coming back, and stays seated.
Pete says something about having the cure, but he says it in a way that suggests that he's found out how to mutate fish so they can walk on land, which, considering the amount of thinking he does, could in fact be the case.
He walks toward Patrick with something in his hand. Patrick watches as Pete lifts up the hem of the bland bedsheets and crawls under them. Pete hold out an iPod headphone to Patrick, who takes it and descends back to the bed.
They settle close together (to conserve body warmth, of course) and Pete turns the device on.
Patrick cranes his neck to kiss Pete on his, and to say thankyou and goodnight. Pete does the same, but with his popstar smile on his face.
They drift to sleep to the dying notes of Purple Rain, (which Pete picked especially for Patrick, but would never admit to doing such a thing). Patrick dreams of ballroom dancing with Pete in a dress, and Pete dreams of Patrick teaching him how to play the French Horn.
Author: letsgetsavvy
Pairing: Patrick Stump / Pete Wentz.
POV: Third.
Summary: When Pete crashes his head to the pillow that night, he dreams of bells on church towers, tambourines and whistles. When he wakes up, he reckons he knows why. His ears are ringing, like somebody left the back door open and the monotonous alarm was going off.
Warnings: Two tiny f-bombs.
Disclaimer: True: The left lung is smaller than the right to make room for the heart. False: This work of fiction.
Author Notes: Title and cut belong to Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes by Fall Out Boy.
-
Pete plays bass in a mildly successful band. Occasionally, they tour the country and overseas to play shows.
One day, on a Wednesday, Pete and his band play to thousands of people who dance like the band is shooting their feet.
They play their set, and the crowd sings along with smiles on their faces and their merch on their backs. Pete's friend, Patrick, sings to them while Pete screams. They sing and scream back enthusiastically. Pete tells them that they're the best and leaves the stage.
When Pete crashes his head to the pillow that night, he dreams of bells on church towers, tambourines and whistles. When he wakes up, he reckons he knows why. His ears are ringing, like somebody left the back door open and the monotonous alarm was going off.
*
On the Thursday, Pete spends more time chatting to Patrick onstage, in a vain attempt to stop the ringing that will definitely come later. But, when his own voice comes back a hundred decibels louder, he knows at once that he's fucked up, and his ears will scream like the crowd no matter what.
That night, Pete dreams of school, the last period before Summer in particular. He's sitting in his old World History class, with him looking twenty-five and everybody else still looking seventeen, because he hasn't caught up with anybody in almost ten years, because he never really cared.
When the bell rings, it's not the familiar yet forgotten scream of freedom, but the taunting drone of ringing ears.
*
On the Friday, Pete and his band have a day off in some hole of a town that he can't remember the name of, but knows it ends with 'ville'. Pete spends about three hours in a dizzy, ringing reverie that consists of actual record stores that smell of vinyl, singing autographs while snapping photos, and talking to Patrick.
All he remembers is going into a discount store and buying earplugs.
*
On the Saturday, Pete screams to the crowd more than he usually does, and they eat it up. They dance more, and scream like their hair is on fire, and when he tells them that they're the best so far, he means it this time and they can tell.
Patrick sings to them while Pete dances, and when they leave, everybody has a smile plastered on their face.
That night, Pete puts the purple earplugs in his ears before dropping his head to the starchy hotel pillow.
That night, he can't sleep, because he learns that the ringing intensifies if he plugs his ears.
That night, Pete goes to a twenty-four hour coffee shop and drinks himself awake.
*
The Sunday's show could have been better. That's what Pete reckons, anyway, and the only reason he thinks so is that he can just tell, because he's played so many of them.
The crowd can't tell. They scream, and Pete wishes they wouldn't, so he talks more, but it's all insomniac drabble, and he couldn't tell you ten minutes later what the fuck it all meant.
He tells Patrick, who rolls his eyes like dice. Pete takes little notice of the bags under them, because he's drifting in and out of his own awareness. His ears are ringing by the time the van pulls up to the hotel.
That night, Pete accidently on purpose stumbles into the wrong room. He's about to turn back, but the sight before his eyes traps his interest.
Patrick is lying on the mattress (but under the dull sheets) without his glasses on and in his pajamas. He's staring up at the ceiling, and Pete immediately empathises with him.
"It's not going away," Patrick mumbles, then whimpers as he covers his ears.
Pete just stares at him in fascination and asks, what's not going away.
Patrick mumbles something about his ears, and how they're screaming their one-note battlecry.
"How long?" Pete asks, and Patrick replies, two or three hours. Pete prompts him further, and he sighs before saying six or seven days.
Pete smiles through the ringing in his own ears, kicks off his old shoes (they hit the wall with a dull thunk) and walks into his own room.
Patrick sits up in alarm, his eyes frantically searching for the shadow of his friend in the dark room. He has to be honest, though, Pete could be standing right at him and he probably wouldn't be able to tell: his eyes were on the nightstand to his right. He can hear the echo of Pete's movements, but they're being mercilessly mauled by the ringing in his own ears.
He's about to crash back onto the bed, but sees the shadow coming back, and stays seated.
Pete says something about having the cure, but he says it in a way that suggests that he's found out how to mutate fish so they can walk on land, which, considering the amount of thinking he does, could in fact be the case.
He walks toward Patrick with something in his hand. Patrick watches as Pete lifts up the hem of the bland bedsheets and crawls under them. Pete hold out an iPod headphone to Patrick, who takes it and descends back to the bed.
They settle close together (to conserve body warmth, of course) and Pete turns the device on.
Patrick cranes his neck to kiss Pete on his, and to say thankyou and goodnight. Pete does the same, but with his popstar smile on his face.
They drift to sleep to the dying notes of Purple Rain, (which Pete picked especially for Patrick, but would never admit to doing such a thing). Patrick dreams of ballroom dancing with Pete in a dress, and Pete dreams of Patrick teaching him how to play the French Horn.