A Little Less John Hughes, A Little More Fall Out Boy AU (part 2/2)
Title: A Little Less John Hughes, A Little More Fall Out Boy AU (part 2/2)
Raiting: PG-13
Pairing: Pete/Patrick Patrick/Joe
Summary:Upon opening the door, Pete very quickly learned two things, 1) Bert McCracken, is, in fact very, very gay and 2) bullet proof vests are kind of heavy and hurt a lot when they hit your foot.
Disclaimer: basic plot belongs to John Hughes; famous people belong to themselves; never happened; not for profit
A/N part 2 of a two-parter. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Comments are love!
[sport my brand new fashion]
Patrick scanned the faces in the crowd looking for Gerard. He’d just had the worst fight ever with his best friend and he had managed to humiliate himself in front of PetefuckingWentz-this was absolutely the worst birthday in history. Walking from one end of the gym to the other, he still hadn’t found Gerard. Instead, he almost ran back into Pete, who was on his way find to Ashlee.
Patrick left to hide in the cafeteria for a while, cursing Gerard Way.
Gerard Way was making out with Bert McCracken in the band room.
After sitting in the darkness of the cafeteria for a good long time, Patrick gave himself permission to no longer be embarrassed by the hot tears that leaked out the sides of his eyes. He pillowed his head on his crossed arms. Joe was pissed at him for whatever reason; his chest hurt and his throat hurt from choking back the emotions. Patrick closed his eyes and went over the argument again. “You don’t even see what’s in front of you.” Patrick’s stomach dropped and a new kind of pain grew in his chest. The knowledge suddenly dawned on him; Joe had a crush on him. Oh God. And, all those times Patrick had pined over Pete to Joe. Goosebumps shot up and down his arms; the hair on the back of his neck stood up.“Shit.”
“Oh my God, don’t do that!” A girl’s voice warned. A tall, skinny figure was standing by the doorway of the kitchen area. “What are you going in here? No one’s allowed in here, I thought.”
“What are you doing in here?” As the girl came closer, Patrick recognized her as the freshman who had flirted with him earlier that day. Her arms were full of pudding cups.
“Patrick?” One of the pudding cups fell from her hands. “Oh my God.” She giggled nervously before dropping all the pudding cups on Patrick’s table. “Want something to snack on?” She smelled like pot.
“Jesus, is anyone not a pothead in this school?” He let his head fall back onto his arms. “Why are you stealing from the kitchen?”
“Why not?” The girl was a lot less annoying when she was stoned. She handed him a plastic spoon and dug into one of the cups herself. “I was hungry.”
Pulling the lid off a cup and licking the foil (it was chocolate), Patrick shrugged. “Okay.”
The girl giggled again. “Hey, look, we’re at the dance together. Well, in the cafeteria while the dance is happening-but that’s just semantics. Heh.” Patrick could hear her sucking on the spoon; it popped out of her mouth with a smack. “You know what would be totally rad? If, like, we had sex and used fucking pudding as lube.”
Patrick balked and turned three shades of red; he choked on the pudding. “What?!” He listened to her giggling and slapping her leg. “That’s wrong on so many levels…”
“Oh my God, I was just kidding. Besides, I already know you’re gay!” She sounded highly amused.
Patrick’s muscles locked up and he held his breath. “What. Are you talking about?”
“Oh my God, it’s so obvious. I mean, I wasn’t sure until I heard you and Joe fighting, but duh. It’s such a shame though. But you and Pete would make a cute couple I guess.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me right?” Patrick banged his head against the table and was thankful for the darkness of the room.
Sensing Patrick might be freaking out a little, the girl scooted closer. “I’m serious. It’s okay though! I think he likes you too.”
Snapping his head up, Patrick said, “Huh? What are you talking about?”
“I totally heard him asking about you. He was talking to Joe. Joe’s pretty upset though. I think you really hurt his feelings. But he did say that if you didn’t like him, then he’d rather see you happy with someone then pining after someone.” An empty cup hit the floor and another cup was opened; Patrick could smell the vanilla.
“How do you know this stuff?” Patrick sounded a little scared and impressed at the same time. The room was literally spinning and he wasn’t even high.
“I’m fucking stealth Baby.” She giggled. “You’re such a heart breaker; I had a crush on you for almost three weeks before Joe told me.”
Patrick passed up asking about her and Joe’s crushes and opted for the more pressing question. “How do you know Pete was asking after me? What did he say? What did Joe say?”
“Because I was there, duh. I saw Joe heading outside and totally knew he was gonna smoke up so I was going out there to bum one off him to ya know? And then Pete was out there asking about you, but Joe got kind of paranoid and hostile on his ass so Pete left. Joe and I smoked up though. Pretty good stuff too. He’s got good taste.”
“So Pete just left? Like, what did he sound like when he was asking about me?” Patrick’s heartbeat was speeding up a little.
“I don’t know. Like he wanted to know where you were? But he totally digs you, I think. I mean, why else would be want to talk to you right?” The girl took Patrick’s open and otherwise untouched pudding cup, and finished it off. “So, are you gonna go find him and make sweet, sweet buttlove with him?”
“Aren’t you a freshman?” Patrick was definitely horrified by this girl.
“So? I’m fifteen. I know what I’m talking about.” Patrick could practically hear her cross her arms and poke her bottom lip out.
Patrick sighed. “What’s your name anyway?”
“Gabby.” She sounded bored as she opened yet another pudding cup. “Ugh, I’m getting full.”
“Well, uh, thanks Gabby. I think I’m going to find Pete.” Patrick stood. As he was leaving the cafeteria, Gabby called out from behind.
“Make sure you’re making the right decision!”
[where is your boy tonight]
“Dude, hide!” Gerard grabbed at Patrick as he and Bert ran by. “Teachers!” Bert and Gerard were holding hands, and Patrick was pretty sure he didn’t want to ask for details. The three of them ran down the halls towards the gym; Patrick wasn’t really sure if there were any teachers following them. Gerard and Bert collapsed in a heap of laughing, wheezing limbs by the gym door. Patrick looked back inside to see where Joe and Pete were. No sign of either.
“Can you take me home?” Patrick asked, dejected. By this point he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the year away.
From the floor, Gerard caught his breath and looked at Bert. “You mind making a pit stop?”
Patrick gave them a weird look. “What do you mean pit stop? What are you guys going to do?”
Bert looked at him sideways. “Party. Wentz is having a party, and we’re crashing it.”
Gerard perked up at the mention of Wentz; he looked at Patrick. “Hey, you should totally go with us! Maybe you could-och! Hey! I wasn’t going to say anything!” Gee rubbed the spot on his chin where Patrick had kicked him before he had a chance to finish his suggestion.
”I just want to go home, okay?” Patrick helped pull Bert and Gerard to their feet.
“Are you and Joe still pissed at each other?” Gerard asked, voice a little low as Bert dusted off his jean jacket.
Patrick shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. It’ll blow over. I hope.”
[could be an accident]
The ride back to Patrick’s house was mostly silent on Patrick’s part, except for the few times when he couldn’t help but make disgusted noises at the way Bert was practically giving Gerard a handy-j while he drove (because a blowjob would have been tacky). As Gerard slowed the car to a stop outside his house, Patrick hesitated. Gerard made a guttural noise in the back of his throat.
“I guess, I could...go.” Patrick’s hand rested on the door handle, pulling at it slightly. He watched as Bert started kissing at Gerard’s neck and decided he really needed to leave the car-before he needed mind bleach. “I’ll see you guys later…”
Unlocking the front door, Patrick flicked on the porch light and kicked his shoes off. It smelled like roses and sugar inside. Patrick traipsed up to the stairs in order to numb his mind with some good old fashioned myspace surfing. The lights were off in his both his parents and grandparents room. Pausing at Mikey’s door, he knocked lightly.
“Yeah?” Mikey called from inside. He was sitting on his bed, reading an old issue of AP magazine. “What’s up?”
Patrick lingered in the doorway, unsure if he actually felt like talking to his brother. “Nothing.”
Mikey arched a perfect eyebrow.
“Today pretty much sucked.” Patrick moved his hands behind his back, grasping onto the doorframe and resting his head against the wood.
Rolling off his stomach to sit up properly, Mikey asked, “So what sucked?”
“Well, for starters, it’s my birthday and the only person who realized was my possibly ex-best friend.” Patrick let the news sink in and indulged in enjoying the guilt that crossed his brother’s face. Lifting up a hand, Patrick shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m over it.”
“But…dude. I’m sorry.” Mikey looked around, maybe looking for a wrapped gift that didn’t actually exist. “I’ll make it up to you.”
Patrick sighed. “I don’t even care about that anymore.” His eyes strayed to the only hanging picture on Mikey’s wall. It was one of those pictures that they take of each row on a rollercoaster at amusement parks; Alicia has her arms up and a huge grin on her face while Mikey has his eyes shut and looks like he might throw up. “What does love feel like?”
Mikey licked his lips and looked sideways. “Um…it depends, I guess.”
“You don’t love love her do you?” Patrick surmised, feeling a little shameful for calling Mikey out.
“She’s pregnant.” Mikey shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do? I don’t not love her. I just…”
Patrick thought he might know what Mikey was trying to explain. Their parents had all but forced the marriage on Mikey. Their old-fashioned sensibilities only reinforced an underlying fear inside Patrick; there was no way his parents would ever accept him as he truly was. “She’s really nice.” Patrick offered.
Cracking a smile, Mikey added, “And hot. She’s pretty damn smart too. Our kid is going to kick some major ass.” The beam in Mikey’s face reassured Patrick that, even though Mikey was only nineteen, his brother would be a great dad.
“I’m going to be an uncle in June.” The thought had just occurred to Patrick.
Mikey nodded, still smiling. “Yeah.” Moments passed by as each boy let their minds wonder. “Everything is going to be different after tomorrow.”
Patrick chewed on his bottom lip and wondered if his own life would be different in the morning. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you at the alter.” He gave a half-smile before walking across the hall to his room.
[last good thing about this part of town]
An hour into it, and the house was already a complete mess. Pete walked through the living room and looked at all the kids dancing, making out, and drinking; he wanted to throw them all to the road. He picked his way over the carpet, purposefully ignoring the splotches of beer, and almost made it to his bedroom before a very drunk Ashlee caught him round the neck with one of his mom’s feather boas.
“Ooh, there you are Baby. Are you having fun?” Her breath smelled heavily of vodka and her skin was clammy. “You have the best parties.”
Pete was glad he was still sober, because otherwise he would have fallen for her wet lips and shining eyes. “What happened to just a few friends?”
Ashlee gestured to everyone in the room. “These are all our friends.” Pete rolled his eyes and detangled himself from the boa and left Ashlee to all her friends. Ashlee’s interpretation to a “small gathering” was giving a general invite to the entire student body. After dealing with his depression and short stint with addiction to prescription drugs two years ago, Pete wasn’t really in the mind frame to be around huge groups of people all the time. The only reason he was still on the soccer team was because his parents forced him to, in order to keep him “normal.” It wasn’t too hard to see why he had been depressed if one looked hard enough.
Pete had to kick Ryan and Keltie out of his room before he could lock his door and log onto his computer. Pulling up myspace, Pete typed “It’s Patrick, no Pat” into the search bar. He clicked on the link and stared at the default picture. “Are you any better than all this? Would you be worth it?” Pete wanted something new, something different.
The digital clock on the wall caught his attention. It was ten forty-five.
[in the meantime]
After changing his myspace profile song to “Eleanor Rigby” by The Beatles, Patrick was mildly surprised to find he had a new message waiting for him.
It was from PeterPAngelus.
hey just checking 2 c if evrythng is ok u looked upset
Patrick read the message three times before he believe what he was seeing. Beneath Pete’s default picture, the “online” icon blinked at him, inviting him to reply. His hands were sweaty as he contemplated what to say back. Pecking at the keys on his laptop, Patrick typed an equally short message.
I’m okay. Just had a fight with my best friend. Thanks for asking.
He alternated between holding his breath and trying to slow his lungs’ rhythm. Patrick forced himself to check his youtube account (to see how many hits his Transformers vid had gotten since the night before [16 new hits]), check is ebay account (to see if he was winning the old school Nike high-tops he was bidding on [so far, so good]), and change his myspace default picture four times before hitting the “home” button on his myspace toolbar.
He had another message.
that guy w the hash? seems like a jackass. want me to kick his ass?
Smiling and blushing, Patrick typed back.
No thanks. I can handle my problems. Aren’t you supposed to be busy partying?
Patrick almost didn’t hit the send button. But he did.
His phone vibrated in his pocket; it was a text from Joe. meet me outside?
Patrick refreshed his homepage again before answering Joe. I’m home.
I know.
One more refresh with no message and Patrick left his computer to see what Joe wanted to say now. When he opened the front door, Patrick was met with a really lit Joe.
“What-“ Patrick was cut off by Joe crashing his lips to Patrick’s, hands anchoring themselves on his hips. The kiss was forceful like Joe thought he could compel Patrick into accepting it-force Patrick to feel the way he did.
Patrick pulled away, holding Joe by the shoulders, steadying him. “What are you doing?”
“I had to do it. I had to do it before everything was fucking fucked up.” Joe buried his hands in his afro and looked around like someone was going to jump out of the bushes at him. “I couldn’t just sit there and know you were going to hook up with him without knowing. I had to do it.” He voice broke before he could continue.
“You’re high Joe.” Patrick pleaded, not knowing what to do or say.
Joe scrubbed at his face before pulling completely away. “I’m just…I’m going home. Forget about it. It-this…yeah….never. See ya Monday.” Joe stumbled off to his bike which was lying on the lawn.
Patrick stood there, dumbfounded and watched his best friend ride away, zigzagging down the street to his house. Staring at the retreating figure until he could no longer see him, Patrick sucked his bottom lip in, running his tongue over it. He turned and went back inside to his room. His mind was fuzzy and sparks felt like they were going off behind his eyes. “This is just way too much information to deal with.” Thumb resting on the mouse of his laptop, Patrick refreshed his homepage again.
u should come ovr
[get off my ass]
Ashlee was banging on his door, screaming for him to let her in; her voice mixed strangely with the music floating up from the family room where the stereo was. Pete grabbed his keys and a hoodie, having long ago ditched the tux (the powder blue suit had been rented on a dare to see if Ashlee would be willing to be seen with him in it-Pete had been hoping she would refuse). After jotting down the directions to Patrick’s house, Pete prepared himself and opened the door. Ashlee stumbled in, spilling a can of Milwaukee’s Best all over his shoes. “Oh God, I thought you were up here slitting your wrists or something!” She grabbed at his chest, patting the area above his heart. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
Pete grabbed Ashlee’s forearms and guided her away, barely covering the grimace as he set her down on his bed. “I think you’re done drinking.” He took the almost empty can away from her and threw it in the trash. “I’m going to go get you some water.”
Ashlee fell onto her back. “Aw, you’re such a good boyfriend.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Pete ignored the kiss she blew him and shut the door behind him, not looking forward to the mess he’d be cleaning up in the morning.
Downstairs, the mass of bodies had grown and apparently, someone had found his game systems. Some kids were playing Rock Band, and currently, the girl Pete remembered seeing outside when he had been talking to Joe, was pointing at the ceiling and screaming to the top of her lungs, “The Final Countdown” by Europe. She rocked her hips and slung her sideways ponytail a little violently. Pete snuck his way around the onlookers and dashed into the garage, to his Subaru.
Upon opening the door, Pete very quickly learned two things, 1) Bert McCracken, is, in fact very, very gay and 2) bullet proof vests are kind of heavy and hurt a lot when they hit your foot. Swearing loudly and kicking at the SUV with his good foot, Pete’s eyes watered. A very sweaty Bert laughed; Pete could hear him saying something like, “I knew this was a good idea, Gee.” Before clambering out of the vehicle and pulling up his jeans. Gee, the other guy with stringy black hair to rival Bert’s (but not quite as oily) tried hiding his grin as he grabbed his vest from the cement floor and strap it over his bare chest, t-shirt hanging out his back pocket.
Still nursing his foot, Pete couldn’t help but ask, “Where do you even get a bulletproof vest?”
Gee shrugged. “It was just lying around…”
Bert pulled Gee through the door to the house, but not before warning Pete, “Hey, keep an eye out for the condom, I can’t find it.”
Pete shuddered and almost considered not getting Patrick. He looked at the directions (written on the order form of an Avon magazine) and prepared himself for the stench of sex and cigarettes as he climbed into the SUV and backed out of the driveway. He drove to Patrick’s house with all the windows down and his nose covered by the neck of his hoodie.
[more than i could say]
Patrick changed his shirt three times before Pete knocked on the door; he changed his mind five times before settling on yes. Stepping onto the porch, Patrick was hit with the odd thought that this was like a date in reverse. Half of him felt like he should check to see that his parents weren’t peeking out the windows to make sure Pete wasn’t kissing him. In the rather harsh glow of the porch light, Pete looked tired and young; Patrick blushed and dug his fists into his pockets. “Hi.”
Pete gave him a half-cocked smile. “Hey. So, this is quite a porch you’ve got here. It’s got steps and everything.”
“Yeah, it came with the house. I told my parents that there was no way I was living in a house that had a porch with no steps.” Patrick was pretty proud of himself for not stumbling once on his words while Pete just grinned at him. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“This will be more fun than what’s going on at my place.” The weight of Pete’s tone was heavier than the easy shrug in his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get a shake or something.”
The sleek, black Subaru parked by the curb looked daunting compared to the Honda Civic Patrick’s parents owned. “So what kind of bad party did you have to have in order for you to want to hang out with me?” Patrick had meant that to be a joke, but the honestly confused look Pete gave him, made him want his words back. “I mean, I’m not really at the top of the list of Really Cool People To Hang Out With.” (The capital letters were evident in Patrick’s voice) “I didn’t even know you knew who I was.” Patrick strapped his seatbelt on and stared intently at his own thighs, wishing his mouth would shut the fuck up.
Patrick could feel Pete put the SUV into gear and pull away from the curb. “Jeeze, give me a little credit, ‘Trick. You’re in my ACF class with Walker. I know everyone in that class. And I’ve seen your myspace, you’re definitely Really Cool People to me.”
A little insect of a voice inside Patrick whined in the back of his mind. “Why is he really talking to me? Is this some kind of horrible joke? Am I going to be turned into Carrie or something?” Instead, Patrick just nodded and let his eyes look at anything other than Pete; he was scared that if he look directly at the boy, Pete might disappear into thin air and Patrick would realize this was a fucked up dream. Or, ya know, something like that.
“Jesus, am I that bad of a guy?” Pete asked aloud as he turned into the parking lot of a McDonalds. He turned to look at Patrick. “I’m not stuck up the way everyone thinks I am. I’m just friends with the people who I’ve always been friends with.” Pete shook his head and looked forward as he continued. “I never meant to alienate anyone. I’ve just been stuck in my own head for so long that I don’t think I know how to really let anyone in.”
Patrick was feeling really out of his depth right about now. He stayed quiet, fidgeting with the side of the seat. Of the three cars in front of Pete’s, one was a red coupe, and the other two were Chevy Impalas; Patrick thought that was odd. Looking over at Pete, Patrick realized he was being stared at. Patrick’s eyes shifted around the car, as if they were trying to figure out who Pete was actually looking at. “Um…”
“There’s something about you-“
“Thank’s for choosing McDonalds. Can I take your order?” The speaker by the menue shouted at them in a staticy baritone. The boys winced.
Pete looked at Patrick. “Chocolate or Cherry?”
Patrick shrugged. “Chocolate?”
“Two medium chocolate shakes, please.” Pete pulled a wad of crumpled bills from his jean pocket, coins spilling to the floor.
“Please drive around to the window.” The speaker sounded like it had one last order left in it before it would die.
Patrick reached down to pick the change up for Pete at the same time Pete said, “Leave it.” Reaching a hand beneath Pete’s seat to grab a runaway dime, Patrick literally shrieked, snatching his hand back, shaking it in mid air. “Gross!”
“What-oh fuck.” Pete nearly collided into the bumper of the white Impala in front of his SUV when he realized that a used condom had been slung from Patrick’s hand to the dashboard and was currently hanging off one of the air vents. “I’m going to kill him-kill him dead.” The lady at the window was holding her hand out impatiently, repeating the total of his order all the while Pete was scrambling to find something to wipe the mess up with.
Patrick was practically curled into a ball on his seat, mortified beyond belief, mind quickly turning from scenario to scenario in which a used condom was needed. This was a bad idea.
Finally throwing the condom out the window (despite the glaring woman with fake nails), Pete handed her a ten and rolled up to the second window, not even waiting on his change. His chest was heaving and he was hoping Patrick would somehow forget the past five minutes. “Sorry about that. Bert, uh…apparently got busy in my car with someone.”
“Gerard.” Patrick supplied, head resting against the cool glass of the window. “I guess it’s partly my fault then. I brought Gerard with me to the dance and that’s where they met.”
“You…uh…you and Gerard…are you together?” Pete might have sounded a little jealous. He handed Patrick a chocolate milkshake which a tiny black woman had handed him with a grin. When he saw Patrick give him an incredulous look, Pete clarified. “I mean, was he your date?”
“Not really. He’s my grandparents’ exchange student and they made him go with me to the dance to get him out of the house. It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” Patrick’s eyes widened before he exhaled through his nostrils.
Pete nodded. “Cool.” They drove in silence for a little longer before Pete pulled into the parking lot outside the Elementary School playground. “Wanna swing?”
The metal chains holding up the swings groaned at the weight of both boys. Pete drug his feet over the sand, moving from side to side. Patrick pumped his legs forwards and backwards, getting higher into the air; he hadn’t been on a swing since fifth grade. “This is fun.” Patrick commented as he let himself fall backwards, eyes shut. He was flying.
Pete twisted the chains, curling them tighter and tighter until he was forced to stop. He brought his feet up and was suddenly slung into a spiral. He laughed and listened to the air rushing in his ears. When he finally slowed down, he said, “Ashlee only wants to come here if she feels like camera-whoring. Everything has to have a definite purpose for her.”
Slowing himself down with the soles of his sneakers, Patrick looked at Pete. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t even know how to answer that.” Pete looked up at the sky; it was overcast and he couldn’t see any of the stars. He looked back at Patrick. “Why me?” When Patrick didn’t immediately read his mind, Pete asked the full question. “Why do you want to sleep with me?”
For the second time that day, Patrick’s heart stopped (okay, not like, literally, but close enough) and he turned bright red, stuttering. “Wh-what are you talking about?” His voice had a bit of a nervous laugh to it.
“I read the survey you did in ACF. You said that if you could lose your virginity right now, you’d want it to be with me. Why?”
This had to be Patrick’s worst nightmare come to life. “I…I don’t know…you’re you. You’re Pete Wentz. You’re funny and hot.” Patrick bit his lip and waited for Pete’s response.
Pete shook his head. “You don’t even know me. I could be a complete asshole or a worse homophobic asshole.”
In a small voice, Patrick said, “I guess I just have to take my chances then.” He was looking down at Pete’s right hand, not really seeing it.
Inching over, still sitting in his swing, Pete reached over and pulled Patrick into a soft, chaste kiss. He knitted his brows in frustration as the chains of his swing wanted to pull him away; Pete grasped Patrick’s swing and licked at his swollen bottom lip. Patrick let out a little breathy noise, leaning into the kiss but too scared to actually touch Pete. They broke apart, eyes bright as the stars should have been.
“All you have to do is ask.” Pete whispered before pumping his legs as hard as possible, swinging higher and faster into the air.
Patrick’s lips felt like they were buzzing. He tracked Pete’s body with his hazel eyes. He’d been kissed twice tonight and both time, he’d been just as confused. “Joe-“ Patrick’s mouth opened and started speaking without his permission. “Joe kind of likes me…”
Pete kept swinging, not responding. Patrick didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“We’ve been friends since sixth grade; he’s my best friend. I don’t know what I would do without him, but…but the thing is, I don’t like him that way.” Patrick was speaking his thoughts, fleshing out his feelings with narration. He twisted his fingers in his laps. “I don’t want to hurt him.”
Pace dwindling, Pete let his feet catch on the sand until he was completely stopped. “You can’t help how you feel, Patrick. If it’s not him or me, it’s going to be someone. Whoever you end up with is going to be really lucky.”
“I think you might be romanticizing things a little, Pete.” Patrick sighed and suddenly he felt older and wiser than even Pete. “I like Joe, but not in a physical way. I like you in a physical way, but I don’t know if I actually like you. That’s the story of my life.” Patrick rubbed his temple against the metal chain.
“I know.” Pete sounded defensive. He looked over at Patrick. “But you could try.”
[when i wake up]
Patrick awoke six in the morning in the back of Pete’s Subaru (fully clothed, thank you very much), head leaning against Pete’s boney shoulder. They were outside his house. Through the windshield, Patrick could barely make out the form of Gerard curled up on the yard, snuggling a lawn flamingo. Patrick’s eyes were bleary and his neck was stiff, but he was warm. He and Pete had stayed up talking until one or both (Patrick wasn’t really sure) boys had fallen asleep, holding each other. Patrick turned and pressed a kiss to the side of Pete’s neck before quietly getting out of the SUV.
“Gerard, wake up. You need to go inside.” Patrick pulled at the other boy’s hand until he started to respond. “It’s six. C’mon.” He was whispering even though no one would have been bothered by his voice (except Gerard who was suffering from a massive hang over)
“God, turn the volume down, okay?” Gerard shielded his eyes from the rising sun. “Hey, who’s car?”
Patrick turned around, almost surprised somehow, that it was still there. “Pete’s.”
Gerard nodded. “So, you finally hooked up with him then?” He smiled a little before wincing and putting a hand to his mouth; Gerard looked a little green.
Ushering him inside, Patrick shrugged. “Something like that.”
END
A/N: Scene Breakers from Fall Out Boy's "Grand Theft Autumn." Comments are love!