Fall Out Boy Fic: And stomped on the floor just for fun (Pete/Patrick)
And stomped on the floor just for fun
Pete/Patrick; PG-13
College AU type thing. Title from the Barenaked Ladies song "The Old Apartment," which is not actually about moving into a new apartment at all.
The boys are not mine; this is the cheesiest, fluffiest fic I've ever written; not beta'd so any mistakes you see are mine.
For we_are_cities prompt Jan 07 07.
"So. This is nice."
Pete frowns. "And by nice, you mean...?"
"Oh my god, it's so tiny, Pete, there's no way we can live here."
"It'll be fine! It's not that small, and we'll get used to it."
"Not that small? Not that--Pete, there's one room."
"But it's a big room."
"I can't live in a place where I have to, like, pee in the kitchen."
"There's totally a door to the bathroom, dude. Unless you're talking about peeing in the sink, and then we've got a whole other set of problems."
"We both know which one of us is more likely to do that, and it's not me. But you know what I mean. This is just. How am I supposed to study?"
Pete grins. "I went to a garage sale," he says, walking through the kitchenette and into the rest of the apartment. "And I found--it's awesome, Trick, it's perfect, see?"
Patrick blinks, eyes still adjusting to the darkness of the room. His eyes finally land on a tiny desk, wedged in between the bed and the thin chunk of plaster that divides the fridge and stove from the bedroom. It looks about a foot wide, and Patrick thinks there's no way his legs will fit under it, and there's not even anything to sit on--
"We can go get a chair tomorrow," Pete says. "Or you can use one from the dining room."
"There are no chairs in the--Pete, we don't even have a dining room."
Pete rolls his eyes. "Breakfast nook. Whatever, there's totally room for a table and a couple of chairs. It'll work, you'll see. Anyway, you're totally missing the point, which is that we have an apartment. Like, we live here."
"Yeah," Patrick says, unable to keep from echoing Pete's grin with a tiny smile of his own. "Yeah, we do."
"And look! There's a window!" Pete crows, dragging Patrick over to a tiny curtained square on the wall. He pushes the fabric aside and points. "I mean, the view's not so great. The view is. Um."
"It's a wall," Patrick finishes, staring at the red brick of the building across the alley. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Pete's face fall. "But," he adds, sliding his hand into Pete's, "it's a very pretty wall."
"Hmm. You think so?"
"Yeah."
Pete presses closer, bumping Patrick's hip with his and sliding his arms around Patrick's waist. They stand there in their new apartment, staring out the window at the prettiest brick wall Patrick's ever seen in his life. It may only have one room, but it's their room, one with no parents or roommates knocking at the door. He's sure in a month's time the bare space will have turned into a chaotic mess, Pete's dirty clothes on the floor and nothing but takeout in the fridge. But Patrick's pretty sure he can live here just fine.
Pete/Patrick; PG-13
College AU type thing. Title from the Barenaked Ladies song "The Old Apartment," which is not actually about moving into a new apartment at all.
The boys are not mine; this is the cheesiest, fluffiest fic I've ever written; not beta'd so any mistakes you see are mine.
For we_are_cities prompt Jan 07 07.
"So. This is nice."
Pete frowns. "And by nice, you mean...?"
"Oh my god, it's so tiny, Pete, there's no way we can live here."
"It'll be fine! It's not that small, and we'll get used to it."
"Not that small? Not that--Pete, there's one room."
"But it's a big room."
"I can't live in a place where I have to, like, pee in the kitchen."
"There's totally a door to the bathroom, dude. Unless you're talking about peeing in the sink, and then we've got a whole other set of problems."
"We both know which one of us is more likely to do that, and it's not me. But you know what I mean. This is just. How am I supposed to study?"
Pete grins. "I went to a garage sale," he says, walking through the kitchenette and into the rest of the apartment. "And I found--it's awesome, Trick, it's perfect, see?"
Patrick blinks, eyes still adjusting to the darkness of the room. His eyes finally land on a tiny desk, wedged in between the bed and the thin chunk of plaster that divides the fridge and stove from the bedroom. It looks about a foot wide, and Patrick thinks there's no way his legs will fit under it, and there's not even anything to sit on--
"We can go get a chair tomorrow," Pete says. "Or you can use one from the dining room."
"There are no chairs in the--Pete, we don't even have a dining room."
Pete rolls his eyes. "Breakfast nook. Whatever, there's totally room for a table and a couple of chairs. It'll work, you'll see. Anyway, you're totally missing the point, which is that we have an apartment. Like, we live here."
"Yeah," Patrick says, unable to keep from echoing Pete's grin with a tiny smile of his own. "Yeah, we do."
"And look! There's a window!" Pete crows, dragging Patrick over to a tiny curtained square on the wall. He pushes the fabric aside and points. "I mean, the view's not so great. The view is. Um."
"It's a wall," Patrick finishes, staring at the red brick of the building across the alley. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Pete's face fall. "But," he adds, sliding his hand into Pete's, "it's a very pretty wall."
"Hmm. You think so?"
"Yeah."
Pete presses closer, bumping Patrick's hip with his and sliding his arms around Patrick's waist. They stand there in their new apartment, staring out the window at the prettiest brick wall Patrick's ever seen in his life. It may only have one room, but it's their room, one with no parents or roommates knocking at the door. He's sure in a month's time the bare space will have turned into a chaotic mess, Pete's dirty clothes on the floor and nothing but takeout in the fridge. But Patrick's pretty sure he can live here just fine.