Pass the cup
Title: Pass the cup
Author:
alles_luege
Pairing: mosty gen, with Patrick/Trace
Rating: PG
Summary: This story is about how Mason tries to hold on to his sanity while staying friends with Trace. (It’s not an easy task.)
Warning(s): mention of threesome
Author’s Notes: Companion piece to ‘Tonight you’ll fall in love’.
Word Count: 2.200
Beta: tygermine
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real.
The thing is that he knows Trace and Trace is not worshipping the ground Pete Wentz is walking on. (Like he heard of other people…) He never did, he never was…whatever. Point is that Mason really doesn’t know why the hell Trace is behaving like he is. (Not that he can claim he has the key to Trace’s brain or something.) It’s just strange and besides Trace should know better. After all he has a famous sister.
“You can’t be serious about this!” Mason says too loudly into the phone. He looks around, but no one is in sight. He is probably still alone at home. Trace just can’t be serious, maybe Gabe’s insanity is catching after all. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to stay at Patrick’s place with the Cobras and a few of the Cab guys. He just knew it.
“Well, I am,” Trace answers on the other side of the line. Mason rubs his temple with his free hand, he might get a headache. (He isn’t sure yet, but it might be Trace’s fault - again. How can it be that he has to deal with stuff like that since he met Trace? Maybe he was better of as he was a geeky geek alone in his room. Good old days.)
He sighs.
“Listen, I don’t think that is a good idea. I mean, yeah they are a cuddly bunch and maybe Vicky and Gabe are fucking each other…”
“And…” Trace tries to interrupt, but Mason cuts him off
.
“And maybe there is a Bill factor, doesn’t matter. It’s not the point.”
“It’s kinda hot…” Trace interrupts again. Mason rubs his temple a bit more.
“We’re not talking about this. I don’t care who is fucking who over there.”
“Yeah, but you seem to care who I want to fuck,” Trace says and it stinks. He hates it when Trace is like this, he still hasn’t found out how to deal with a person who just knows you, knows everything you like, that can hurt you, that plainly just knows how to push all your fucking buttons. He considers just hanging up on that stupid jerk. “Mason?”
“I’m still here, asshole,” He answers frustrated. “And I don’t care so much as think it’s a bad idea to seduce fucking Patrick Stump!”
“I…maybe.” Trace admits, Mason knows he hasn’t won a thing here. Trace will probably still try and maybe even succeed.
“I think he and Pete…” Mason says.
“I don’t. I mean, maybe Patrick liked him, but Pete is…gay above the waist, we all know that.”
“So, you want to be a substitute?” Mason asks, sitting down. How did he even slither into this? (It’s all his mom’s fault. He knows she meant well, but it’s still all her fault. He needs to tell her that she isn’t allowed to set him up with anyone anymore. Ever.) Trace keeps quiet on the other end of the line. Mason can hear him breathe and maybe think. He isn’t sure. He stares out of the window and waits for Trace to continue.
“I won’t.” Trace says at last and Mason sighs.
“God, I hate you.”
“Not true.”
“I will hang up now.”
“Mason?”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
“I still hate you, I’m getting a headache and it’s all your fault.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I’m hanging up.” Mason says again and does. He falls back on the bed and stares at the ceiling as if the answers to life (just his, not in general; he isn’t greedy) were pinned to it. They aren’t. Obviously.
~+~
“If you’re going to hang out with Patrick, I sure as hell am coming with you!” Mason says into the speaker. His mom gives him a look, she doesn’t like when he’s cursing.
“I think that’s a no brainer.”
“That’s why you’re calling. You want to play it safe and I am your…whatever.” Mason answers a bit shocked that he just figured it out. He should’ve known.
“The Hutch to my Starsky…”
“I did mention that I hate you already?”
“Yeah, broken record, much?” Trace answers with a soft laugh. Mason really sometimes doesn’t know what the hell he is doing. Like now. He shouldn’t encourage Trace’s behaviour, but he can’t sit at home and hope for the best (namely that Patrick is so much more sane than Trace and will do the responsible thing), so he says yes anyway. “I knew you would.”
Mason knew he would too. No surprise here, really no surprise at all.
“You owe me so big for this shit.” He sighs.
“Mason!” his mom says.
“Sorry.” Mason mumbles, on the other end of the line Trace laughs and then hangs up. That fucker. He is sure other singers don’t have crazy guitar players like he has to deal with.
~+~
Mason has no idea how the hell he got conned into making pancakes for them all when he just came over to hang out and maybe prevent Trace from doing something really, really stupid. He could explain it away with: It’s Trace and it really shouldn’t be so easy to do that. Fuck!
When he enters the living room again Pete is sitting on the floor between Patrick’s legs and plays a vicious game of something he can’t really see from his position with Trace. They both look like maniacs or knights fighting for honour or well, a maiden. He snickers and Patrick looks at him, smiling and rolling his eyes. Mason can really relate. Maybe he isn’t alone with his insane, tattooed guitar player…
“There is always Frank too,” Patrick says, as if reading Mason’s mind.
“God! Yeah!” he answers. “Pancakes are ready,” he adds with a nod in the kitchen’s direction.
“Great! I’m starving.” Patrick says, getting up. Pete and Trace both look torn. “For fuck’s sake! Pete.”
“Yeah…I’m coming.” Mason just gives Trace a look and Trace puts the controller down.
“It’s your fault if I lose.”
“You’re so going down kid.” Pete says.
“We will see…”
Mason isn’t sure they mean the game anymore.
~+~
He isn’t entirely sure how it happened that they stay at Patrick’s place after the tour ended. (It went supposedly something like this: Trace was like; I’m not sure I want to go home yet, blah, blah, blah and Patrick said: Well, you could stay a few days at my place, no problem. Mason didn’t say anything except ‘I’m staying too.’)
“You’re up early.” Patrick says, he is scratching his head absentminded, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He answers, turning back to his pancakes, pancakes after all need supervising.
“I know someone else who couldn’t sleep.”
“Trace never sleeps at night…”
“Yeah, Pete doesn’t either.”
“Do you want some breakfast?”
“Sure, but you know you don’t need to make breakfast or coffee or stuff like that just because you’re two are staying here,” Patrick answers sitting down. Mason puts the pancakes on a plate and pours some coffee into mugs and sets everything on the table. By now he knows Patrick’s kitchen like his own.
“I’m feeling weird not doing anything…”
“Your mom would be so proud,” Trace says from the doorway. Neither Patrick nor Mason heard him coming.
“Fuck you.”
“You wish,” Trace says, entering the kitchen and sitting down next to Patrick. Mason goes a slight pink. Really, sometimes he hates Trace.
“Language,” Patrick says and Mason smiles. Trace glares at him before he turns to face Patrick.
“Pete is allowed to swear here.”
“Well, Pete is special and an adult, you are not.” Patrick answers and Trace shuts up. Mason pours another mug for him as well before he sets down to eat.
~+~
It’s not his fault, okay? It’s Pete’s. And Trace’s. Definitively Trace’s too. Because he is here just because Trace is here. (Maybe it’s his mom’s too for introducing him to Trace in the first place.)
On the other hand it’s kind of funny to watch Pete and Trace fighting about who is allowed to sit near Patrick on the couch. Of course Pete wins, but Patrick still rolls his eyes. And what makes it better is that he always goes fucking red when he’s talking to Pete or Vicky for that matter. (He is still thinking about her hand on his skin. It was kind of scary and kind of hot too. Gabe said that is what makes her so unique. Mason totally agrees.)
He likes it when Pete is coming over. He likes Hemmy a lot too. This dog is too fucking cute and also ugly as hell. It’s kind of unique too.
~+~
It isn’t really a surprise that Pete declares on a Wednesday that he is staying over for a few days at Patrick’s. Trace still looks crestfallen. Mason would have laughed, but this shit really isn’t funny. Pete is acting like Trace is trying to steal his boyfriend and maybe Pete is really thinking of Patrick like that. Mason doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to, he didn’t want to get involved here at all. In all this stupid FBR drama. Even if Trace still accuses him of having a crush on Vicky - hey, everyone has a crush on Vicky. For fuck’s sake even girls have crushes on her. And it doesn’t matter that his thoughts sometimes stray to Gabe and Bill…because, hey. Whatever. He can’t be thinking about this now, he has to deal with the Trace problem.
“You can’t just sit in the dark and wait for Patrick to stumble upon you!” Mason says. They’re walking Hemmy alone for once. Pete can be a bit paranoid, but he seems to like Mason - at least.
“It worked before, we can talk like that.”
“Yeah…right!”
“I didn’t fall in love with Patrick because I wanted to! You know!?”
“Yeah, fuck. This is…” Mason answers, because he knows. You can’t choose who you fall in love with.
“I admit it was a game at the beginning, but it isn’t anymore. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” He knew as much. That’s why he had to stop this shit just at the beginning, but he didn’t try hard enough and now…well, maybe it will turn out okay. “Maybe it will turn out okay.”
“Man, I wish.” Trace answers, sighting.
~+~
“I’m going home and if you’re smart you’re coming with me,” Mason says five days in Pete’s stay at Patrick’s place. Hemmy is sleeping on his bed. He will miss the dog. They totally became best friends forever.
“I’m not.”
“I know you’re not.”
“I mean, I’m not coming back with you. Not yet. I think….maybe.” Trace says, rolling his eyes at his friend and singer. They know each other too well.
“We’re like them…”
“But younger.” Trace says with a smile. And that I’m not in love with you, Mason thinks.
“You’re not in love with me, are you?”
“The fuck, Trace! Can you be serious for like one fucking second, or what?” Hemmy sends him a look, well if dogs can do that. It totally looks like a LOOK.
“I guess that’s a no.”
“You’re guessing right,” Mason answers, packing his things. The shirts look kinda rumpled already. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he says, scratching Hemmy behind the ears.
“He’s not a cat.”
“He likes it anyway.” Mason says and then: “You call me.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re coming home if things should go wrong. Right now.”
“You said: if.”
“I do want you happy. I just think you’re going about it all wrong.”
“I will not say a thing if you hook up with Vicky and Gabe and Bill…”
“I really don’t know why I’m friends with you.” Mason answers, with a put upon sigh.
~+~
It’s the middle of the night and it’s Trace. So of course Mason thinks that things went badly and that he has to fucking put the pieces together.
“I had sex,” Trace says.
“What?”
“I had sex.” Trace repeats. He is whispering.
“Why the hell are you telling me this? And why are you whispering and why are you calling me at ass o’clock just to tell me that you had sex?!” Mason demands to know. These are all fucking good questions.
“You are my friend. I thought you should know. I’m in the bathroom, because I don’t want to wake up anyone.”
“Obviously I’m the exception,” Mason says.
“Mason…” Trace whines.
“Oh, god…okay, with Patrick?”
“Yes! And Pete,” Trace says triumphantly. Mason sucks in a deep breath. Trust Trace to win Pete’s heart as well in the end.
“Okay.”
“You don’t approve.”
“I fucking don’t know. It’s ass o’clock in the morning and you just had sex with Pete and Patrick from Fall out Boy. I’m totally going to win Vicky’s heart.”
“And Gabe’s.”
“And Bill’s.” Mason finishes.
“That’s the right spirit. You know they are a cuddly bunch…”
“Pete and Patrick aren’t? “ Mason asks.
“You really want details?”
“Well, no. And now go back to bed and do…nasty thinks with other boys…” Mason says, yawning.
“Okay. Hey, Mason?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Shut the fuck up. Or better, go tell that to Patrick or Pete or both.” Mason answers and waits for Trace’s laugh before he hangs up.
~end~
Author:
alles_luege
Pairing: mosty gen, with Patrick/Trace
Rating: PG
Summary: This story is about how Mason tries to hold on to his sanity while staying friends with Trace. (It’s not an easy task.)
Warning(s): mention of threesome
Author’s Notes: Companion piece to ‘Tonight you’ll fall in love’.
Word Count: 2.200
Beta: tygermine
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real.
The thing is that he knows Trace and Trace is not worshipping the ground Pete Wentz is walking on. (Like he heard of other people…) He never did, he never was…whatever. Point is that Mason really doesn’t know why the hell Trace is behaving like he is. (Not that he can claim he has the key to Trace’s brain or something.) It’s just strange and besides Trace should know better. After all he has a famous sister.
“You can’t be serious about this!” Mason says too loudly into the phone. He looks around, but no one is in sight. He is probably still alone at home. Trace just can’t be serious, maybe Gabe’s insanity is catching after all. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to stay at Patrick’s place with the Cobras and a few of the Cab guys. He just knew it.
“Well, I am,” Trace answers on the other side of the line. Mason rubs his temple with his free hand, he might get a headache. (He isn’t sure yet, but it might be Trace’s fault - again. How can it be that he has to deal with stuff like that since he met Trace? Maybe he was better of as he was a geeky geek alone in his room. Good old days.)
He sighs.
“Listen, I don’t think that is a good idea. I mean, yeah they are a cuddly bunch and maybe Vicky and Gabe are fucking each other…”
“And…” Trace tries to interrupt, but Mason cuts him off
.
“And maybe there is a Bill factor, doesn’t matter. It’s not the point.”
“It’s kinda hot…” Trace interrupts again. Mason rubs his temple a bit more.
“We’re not talking about this. I don’t care who is fucking who over there.”
“Yeah, but you seem to care who I want to fuck,” Trace says and it stinks. He hates it when Trace is like this, he still hasn’t found out how to deal with a person who just knows you, knows everything you like, that can hurt you, that plainly just knows how to push all your fucking buttons. He considers just hanging up on that stupid jerk. “Mason?”
“I’m still here, asshole,” He answers frustrated. “And I don’t care so much as think it’s a bad idea to seduce fucking Patrick Stump!”
“I…maybe.” Trace admits, Mason knows he hasn’t won a thing here. Trace will probably still try and maybe even succeed.
“I think he and Pete…” Mason says.
“I don’t. I mean, maybe Patrick liked him, but Pete is…gay above the waist, we all know that.”
“So, you want to be a substitute?” Mason asks, sitting down. How did he even slither into this? (It’s all his mom’s fault. He knows she meant well, but it’s still all her fault. He needs to tell her that she isn’t allowed to set him up with anyone anymore. Ever.) Trace keeps quiet on the other end of the line. Mason can hear him breathe and maybe think. He isn’t sure. He stares out of the window and waits for Trace to continue.
“I won’t.” Trace says at last and Mason sighs.
“God, I hate you.”
“Not true.”
“I will hang up now.”
“Mason?”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
“I still hate you, I’m getting a headache and it’s all your fault.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I’m hanging up.” Mason says again and does. He falls back on the bed and stares at the ceiling as if the answers to life (just his, not in general; he isn’t greedy) were pinned to it. They aren’t. Obviously.
~+~
“If you’re going to hang out with Patrick, I sure as hell am coming with you!” Mason says into the speaker. His mom gives him a look, she doesn’t like when he’s cursing.
“I think that’s a no brainer.”
“That’s why you’re calling. You want to play it safe and I am your…whatever.” Mason answers a bit shocked that he just figured it out. He should’ve known.
“The Hutch to my Starsky…”
“I did mention that I hate you already?”
“Yeah, broken record, much?” Trace answers with a soft laugh. Mason really sometimes doesn’t know what the hell he is doing. Like now. He shouldn’t encourage Trace’s behaviour, but he can’t sit at home and hope for the best (namely that Patrick is so much more sane than Trace and will do the responsible thing), so he says yes anyway. “I knew you would.”
Mason knew he would too. No surprise here, really no surprise at all.
“You owe me so big for this shit.” He sighs.
“Mason!” his mom says.
“Sorry.” Mason mumbles, on the other end of the line Trace laughs and then hangs up. That fucker. He is sure other singers don’t have crazy guitar players like he has to deal with.
~+~
Mason has no idea how the hell he got conned into making pancakes for them all when he just came over to hang out and maybe prevent Trace from doing something really, really stupid. He could explain it away with: It’s Trace and it really shouldn’t be so easy to do that. Fuck!
When he enters the living room again Pete is sitting on the floor between Patrick’s legs and plays a vicious game of something he can’t really see from his position with Trace. They both look like maniacs or knights fighting for honour or well, a maiden. He snickers and Patrick looks at him, smiling and rolling his eyes. Mason can really relate. Maybe he isn’t alone with his insane, tattooed guitar player…
“There is always Frank too,” Patrick says, as if reading Mason’s mind.
“God! Yeah!” he answers. “Pancakes are ready,” he adds with a nod in the kitchen’s direction.
“Great! I’m starving.” Patrick says, getting up. Pete and Trace both look torn. “For fuck’s sake! Pete.”
“Yeah…I’m coming.” Mason just gives Trace a look and Trace puts the controller down.
“It’s your fault if I lose.”
“You’re so going down kid.” Pete says.
“We will see…”
Mason isn’t sure they mean the game anymore.
~+~
He isn’t entirely sure how it happened that they stay at Patrick’s place after the tour ended. (It went supposedly something like this: Trace was like; I’m not sure I want to go home yet, blah, blah, blah and Patrick said: Well, you could stay a few days at my place, no problem. Mason didn’t say anything except ‘I’m staying too.’)
“You’re up early.” Patrick says, he is scratching his head absentminded, leaning in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He answers, turning back to his pancakes, pancakes after all need supervising.
“I know someone else who couldn’t sleep.”
“Trace never sleeps at night…”
“Yeah, Pete doesn’t either.”
“Do you want some breakfast?”
“Sure, but you know you don’t need to make breakfast or coffee or stuff like that just because you’re two are staying here,” Patrick answers sitting down. Mason puts the pancakes on a plate and pours some coffee into mugs and sets everything on the table. By now he knows Patrick’s kitchen like his own.
“I’m feeling weird not doing anything…”
“Your mom would be so proud,” Trace says from the doorway. Neither Patrick nor Mason heard him coming.
“Fuck you.”
“You wish,” Trace says, entering the kitchen and sitting down next to Patrick. Mason goes a slight pink. Really, sometimes he hates Trace.
“Language,” Patrick says and Mason smiles. Trace glares at him before he turns to face Patrick.
“Pete is allowed to swear here.”
“Well, Pete is special and an adult, you are not.” Patrick answers and Trace shuts up. Mason pours another mug for him as well before he sets down to eat.
~+~
It’s not his fault, okay? It’s Pete’s. And Trace’s. Definitively Trace’s too. Because he is here just because Trace is here. (Maybe it’s his mom’s too for introducing him to Trace in the first place.)
On the other hand it’s kind of funny to watch Pete and Trace fighting about who is allowed to sit near Patrick on the couch. Of course Pete wins, but Patrick still rolls his eyes. And what makes it better is that he always goes fucking red when he’s talking to Pete or Vicky for that matter. (He is still thinking about her hand on his skin. It was kind of scary and kind of hot too. Gabe said that is what makes her so unique. Mason totally agrees.)
He likes it when Pete is coming over. He likes Hemmy a lot too. This dog is too fucking cute and also ugly as hell. It’s kind of unique too.
~+~
It isn’t really a surprise that Pete declares on a Wednesday that he is staying over for a few days at Patrick’s. Trace still looks crestfallen. Mason would have laughed, but this shit really isn’t funny. Pete is acting like Trace is trying to steal his boyfriend and maybe Pete is really thinking of Patrick like that. Mason doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to, he didn’t want to get involved here at all. In all this stupid FBR drama. Even if Trace still accuses him of having a crush on Vicky - hey, everyone has a crush on Vicky. For fuck’s sake even girls have crushes on her. And it doesn’t matter that his thoughts sometimes stray to Gabe and Bill…because, hey. Whatever. He can’t be thinking about this now, he has to deal with the Trace problem.
“You can’t just sit in the dark and wait for Patrick to stumble upon you!” Mason says. They’re walking Hemmy alone for once. Pete can be a bit paranoid, but he seems to like Mason - at least.
“It worked before, we can talk like that.”
“Yeah…right!”
“I didn’t fall in love with Patrick because I wanted to! You know!?”
“Yeah, fuck. This is…” Mason answers, because he knows. You can’t choose who you fall in love with.
“I admit it was a game at the beginning, but it isn’t anymore. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” He knew as much. That’s why he had to stop this shit just at the beginning, but he didn’t try hard enough and now…well, maybe it will turn out okay. “Maybe it will turn out okay.”
“Man, I wish.” Trace answers, sighting.
~+~
“I’m going home and if you’re smart you’re coming with me,” Mason says five days in Pete’s stay at Patrick’s place. Hemmy is sleeping on his bed. He will miss the dog. They totally became best friends forever.
“I’m not.”
“I know you’re not.”
“I mean, I’m not coming back with you. Not yet. I think….maybe.” Trace says, rolling his eyes at his friend and singer. They know each other too well.
“We’re like them…”
“But younger.” Trace says with a smile. And that I’m not in love with you, Mason thinks.
“You’re not in love with me, are you?”
“The fuck, Trace! Can you be serious for like one fucking second, or what?” Hemmy sends him a look, well if dogs can do that. It totally looks like a LOOK.
“I guess that’s a no.”
“You’re guessing right,” Mason answers, packing his things. The shirts look kinda rumpled already. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he says, scratching Hemmy behind the ears.
“He’s not a cat.”
“He likes it anyway.” Mason says and then: “You call me.”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re coming home if things should go wrong. Right now.”
“You said: if.”
“I do want you happy. I just think you’re going about it all wrong.”
“I will not say a thing if you hook up with Vicky and Gabe and Bill…”
“I really don’t know why I’m friends with you.” Mason answers, with a put upon sigh.
~+~
It’s the middle of the night and it’s Trace. So of course Mason thinks that things went badly and that he has to fucking put the pieces together.
“I had sex,” Trace says.
“What?”
“I had sex.” Trace repeats. He is whispering.
“Why the hell are you telling me this? And why are you whispering and why are you calling me at ass o’clock just to tell me that you had sex?!” Mason demands to know. These are all fucking good questions.
“You are my friend. I thought you should know. I’m in the bathroom, because I don’t want to wake up anyone.”
“Obviously I’m the exception,” Mason says.
“Mason…” Trace whines.
“Oh, god…okay, with Patrick?”
“Yes! And Pete,” Trace says triumphantly. Mason sucks in a deep breath. Trust Trace to win Pete’s heart as well in the end.
“Okay.”
“You don’t approve.”
“I fucking don’t know. It’s ass o’clock in the morning and you just had sex with Pete and Patrick from Fall out Boy. I’m totally going to win Vicky’s heart.”
“And Gabe’s.”
“And Bill’s.” Mason finishes.
“That’s the right spirit. You know they are a cuddly bunch…”
“Pete and Patrick aren’t? “ Mason asks.
“You really want details?”
“Well, no. And now go back to bed and do…nasty thinks with other boys…” Mason says, yawning.
“Okay. Hey, Mason?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Shut the fuck up. Or better, go tell that to Patrick or Pete or both.” Mason answers and waits for Trace’s laugh before he hangs up.
~end~