Angels and Devils, formerly known as We Have A Big Mess On Our Hands
Angels and Devils, formerly known as We Have A Big Mess On Our Hands
By: Licklicksalute1
Rating: R due to language
Summary: “Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, what did you DO?”
As much as Pete loved to hear Patrick so early in the morning, it was seven (a.m people, a.m) and he didn't altogether like being full named at aforementioned early hour in the morning. And in that tone of voice no less. Yes, Pete loved hearing Patrick, just not like this.
A/N: HAPPY V-DAY! This is inspired from a few things, actually. One, from a dream I had last night, which was inspired from these sources:
The infamous chibi pictures. Here and Here.
And something else, though I can't really think right now. Is it bad to really really want fan art of this? Lol. Too bad I can't really draw.
“Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, what did you DO?”
As much as Pete loved to hear Patrick so early in the morning, it was seven (a.m people, a.m) and he didn't altogether like being full named at aforementioned early hour in the morning. And in that tone of voice no less. Yes, Pete loved hearing Patrick, just not like this.
No, he loved hearing him when he was pressed to the wall, when he was writhing on the mattress under him, when he was - There was a serious of soft pops, and Patrick shrieked again. “PETE!”
Deciding it was probably a good idea to go see him, he climbed out of bed, padding barefoot and barely clothed out to the living room, eyebrows raising far into his hairline as he took in the sight of Patrick climbing on the counter.
“...Dude.” He realized that this was Patrick's house, and thus, he could climb on his own counters if he saw the need to, but really, Pete didn't see the need to at the moment. You know, unless he was doing something which required Patrick to be on the counter, and in that case...
Pop.
Patrick literally screamed like a girl and jerked his feet up on the counter, looking helplessly across the room at Pete. “Get them... get them away... What did you DO, you FUCKER.”
Pete rubbed at his face, not even awake yet. “What the hell are you talking about, OH MY GOD.” He had walked around the couch and promptly jumped onto it, staring horrified at his best friend. “What the HELL ARE THEY?!”
Patrick shook his head violently back and forth, resisting the impulse to scream 'I told you so!' at Pete. “I don't know! I think... I think they're YOU.” He wasn't going down to the floor though, not on anyone's life.
“Me?!” Pete snapped back at him, seeing Hemmingway out of the corner of his eyes. “No! Hemm, don't! Come back!” He tried in vain to reach for him, but it was his turn to shriek as his dog went down. “THEY ATE MY DOG!”
Patrick skidded backwards, nearly losing his grip and falling off the counter. To which he screamed and held on tightly to the wall. If he could have climbed onto the ceiling, he would have. At the moment, he was sizing up the top of the refrigerator.
Pete, on the other hand, wasn't going to take the consumption of his dog sitting down. All he could see was his dog on the ground, not really moving. He didn't think so. They were going down. He leapt off the couch, with a yell that made him sound like some cartoon hero, hitting the ground and getting slightly swarmed.
“Oh my God, they ate Pete! Oh my God!” Patrick was shaking back and forth, almost hyperventilating. “I'm next. That's it, they're going to eat me... I don't taste good...”
And then Pete sat up. “Huh...” He chuckled, holding one of them in his hands. “They're kinda cute actually.”
“Pete!” Patrick was overjoyed at him being alive, really he was. “Oh God, put it down!”
The bassist just laughed softly and got up, careful of the little ones running around before he cornered Patrick, who really wasn't up to meeting this thing, as he was trying to climb the walls and beat the forces of gravity. “Aw, c'mon Patrick, It's cute.”
“It is not -” Patrick made the mistake of looking over at Pete, thus losing his grip and slipping off the counter, landing hard on the ground. He screamed again, covering his head and curling up into a ball, whimpering something about not eating him.
When he didn't feel little teeth tearing into his flesh, he cautiously opened his eyes. And blinked. Blinked again. “...Pete...” He had one of the little monsters looking at him in the eyes, little hands on either side of his face, and bright brown eyes looking curiously at him. “...Pete... why... do they look so much like you...”
“See, they're cute.” Pete was sitting on the floor now, with Hemmy, who was alive and happy, playing with the... well, the mini-Pete's. “I don't think they can talk, though.”
“They have horns.” Patrick had carefully sat up, picking the little Pete off the ground, holding him in his palm while he carefully poked at the little horns on his head. “And a little tail! Pete, they're devils!” He paused. “Hell, they're not too far off the mark there, are they.”
“Shuddup.” Pete snorted, moving to his side, the mini-Pete's crowding around them. They were small, not very big at all. But there was a few of them. He saw Patrick peering somewhat angrily at him, and he sighed. “Yes?”
“Again, I reiterate. What did you do?”
“Why do you assume it's my fault?
“It's always your fault.”
Pete didn't answer, just laid down on the ground, playing with the mini-Pete devils, who really were rather cute. Patrick couldn't help the soft smile that slipped over his face as he watched him. He sort of looked like a father. A father of mutant miniature devil Pete Wentz's, but a father nonetheless.
Pop.
Patrick felt something on his shoulder, and he jerked a bit, hands coming up to stop the little thing before it could fall. How did they get up there.... He blinked down at the little thing in his hands, cleared his throat, blinked again.
“Hm... My fault, huh?” Pete chimed in, reaching over and picking up the little Patrick in bigger Patrick's hands. “Aw, it's so cute.” He purred, letting a mini Pete and a mini Patrick sit together on his hands. He gasped in horror as the Pete tackled the Patrick, trying to pull its wings off. Wait a second...
“Oh my God, you're an angel.” He snickered, laughing as regular sized Patrick tried to jump the mini's and make them stop fighting. “Pete! Make your.... thing... stop hurting me!” He finally detached them and hugged the mini angel Patrick, complete with hat, halo, and wings, to his chest.
“Dude, my mini so kicked your mini's miniature ass.”
Patrick glared, “Keep them away. They obviously don't get along. I wonder why -that- would be.”
“Aw, you love me, Trick.” Pete pouted up at him, and it melted Patrick, like it usually did. “See... I see that smile, c'mon... tell me you love me...” The pout deepened, and he had to bite off the laugh when Patrick cursed.
“Fine, dammit. I love you. Happy?”
Pete sighed, slipping over and setting the mini Pete down on the ground with the others, catching Patrick at the back of his neck, pulling him in, covering his mouth with his gently. “You don't mean it...”
Patrick squeaked, gasping a warning about mini Patrick, before he sighed softly and melted against him, kissing him back softly. “I do... I do mean it, Pete.. I love you.” He heard another pop, and barely registered the second angel Patrick that was now hugging the first and bouncing around on his lap.
Pete smiled, fingertips brushing against his cheek. “I love you too.” There were twin pops, this time. Another mini devil Pete, and... “Well....shit.” He held the second up with two fingers, gripping the back of his shirt as the angel Pete twirled slowly in a circle in the air, wings and a halo.
Patrick pulled back and pointed. “That is so wrong.”
“What?” Pete looked a little miffed. “Why can't I be an angel?”
Patrick just gave him a look and reached over, somehow managing to grab the phone, his shirt riding up a little. There was another pop almost as soon as his fingers touched the phone, and he glared over at Pete. “Don't you think we have enough of you?”
Pete looked slightly perplexed. “...I don't really know what's doing it.”
“You are. Stop it.”
Pete muttered something under his breath, but the singer wasn't paying attention, too busy dialing in a number, holding the phone to his ear. “Andy - yeah, yeah, I know its early... Um... Pete and I... we kind of have a problem...” A look crossed his face, something akin to horror and shock. “ANDY! I... no... we don't... I mean.... yes, yes we do.. I mean... oh my God, can't you just come over?” He almost hung up, but as an afterthought, shouted not to bring Joe, but Spencer was a good idea, and covered his face with his hands.
“What did he say?”
“He told me he wasn't going out to buy us condoms.”
Pete snorted, but his words were cut off by another pop. Patrick opened his mouth to tell at Pete, but the new devil was sporting blonde hair, a dark cap slightly twisted to the side, biker boots, and a leather vest. “....Shit.”
“Well, well, well...” Pete picked up devil Patrick, smirking.
“I didn't do that. It's not mine!” Patrick tried to defend himself, but the devil Patrick on Pete's hand was standing in a way that was just too familiar, his hand tilted and his face in a perfect 'oh bitch, please' look that had Pete almost rolling around on the floor, laughing.
Patrick jumped Pete to get him to stop, which resulted in a wrestling match on the floor with the mini Pete's, and the mini Patrick's watching, Hemmy sitting in between them, so they didn't start a fight of their own, angels on one side, devils on the other.
Which was the sight that Andy, and Joe, yes Joe, walked in on.
Patrick wasn't too happy. “I told you NOT TO BRING HIM!” He pointed at Joe, who was already playing with the minis.
Andy shrugged, “I couldn't wake Spence up. So I brought the next best thing.”
“The next best thing would have been BRENDON!”
Joe, who had heard all this, but was hardly phased, just picked up the angel Pete and Patrick and practically purred. “Look, match! I can sell them on Ebay!”
“NO!” Both Pete and Patrick screamed at him.
Joe pouted and put the minis down, sitting back as Andy came over, calmly looking over the minis. “Well, yes, I'd say condoms wouldn't help with this.” He sat down, poking at the devil Patrick, who glared and tried to bite him. “....You have a cannibal among you.” The drummer hummed, easily taking back his hand and looking up at Patrick. “Seems he has your temper.”
“Oh fuck you, Hurley.”
Pete snorted, kneeling next to him. “...So, any idea what caused this?”
“I would say you did.”
“Hah!” Patrick pointed triumphantly.
“But you helped.” Andy interjected, looking at Patrick, who promptly deflated from his loss of joy.
“What do you mean?” He demanded.
“Well, there are mini Pete's, and mini Patrick's.” Andy pointed to them as he spoke. “So, obviously... You had to have had a hand in this.”
Pete snickered quietly, and another devil Pete popped into existence.
“You.” Andy pushed him. Which was unnecessary, but still, he was close to figuring this out. “You. What did you do?”
“Um....”
“What were you thinking?”
Pete coughed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Um... Really, I don't think you want to know..”
“Peter Wentz..”
“I was thinking about me and Patrick.”
Pause.
“Patrick and I?”
Pause.
“Oh God are you dense. I was thinking about fucking Patrick fucking Stump, are you happy?”
Andy paused once again, mouth shutting slowly. “Hm.” He tapped his fingers on his leg, thinking. “Do it again.”
Pete, Patrick, and even Joe stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“Just do it.”
Pete frowned, but did as he said. Really, he had no problems with that. At the soft pop, his lips parted in surprise, and he looked guiltily over at Patrick, who was staring at him in shock. “So... all these little mini Pete's are because you were thinking about fucking me?”
“...Apparently.”
“You fucker.”
“Also apparently.”
Joe had a thoughtful look on his face before he reached out and poked Andy's side. “...Andy?”
“Yeah?”
“Think about fucking me.”
Andy blinked, staring at him now. “Why?”
“Because I was a mini devil Andy.” He pouted.
There was silence for a long moment, before Pete broke it, snorting as he grabbed his phone, and started lining up and posing, or attempting to, some of the little minis. “Now hold still.” he told them, snapping pictures.
“What in the name of all that is holy are you doing?” Patrick got to his feet, watching him with a wary look in his eyes.
“What does it look like? I'm taking pictures.”
Patrick made a grab for the phone. “Oh no you're not. Gimme that!”
Pete bit off a curse and dodged. “What the hell is your problem, it's not like I'm putting them on the Internet.”
“Oh, like I trust you with that!” Patrick snorted, grabbing the phone and trying to jerk it away. They fought over it, with Joe and Andy watching, before a soft ping filled the air and they both froze, staring down at the phone.
“Oh my God, tell me it didn't. Pete, tell me it fucking didn't!”
Pete even had a horrified look on his face as he snatched the phone back and started clicking buttons. After a moment he relaxed. “It didn't get sent to the Internet.”
Patrick breathed in relief. “Then what was the sound for?”
“It was sent to Gabe.”
“THAT'S NO BETTER!”
Twenty to twenty five minutes later, Pete was still trying to console Patrick, who was just calming down before the door opened again. And then he jumped to his feet. “OUT! Out now! Don't you even come in here, you son of a fucking bit-”
Gabe just reached forward and placed a hand over the other's mouth, effectively shutting him up as he let Will walk in ahead of him. “Nice to see you too, Patrick.”
Will raised a hand. “Hey guys.” He smiled and sat down next to Andy and Joe, decided everyone was taking this rather calmly, and thus, so should he. It wasn't the weirdest thing to have happened on the Decaydance label anyway. “I see you ... have a slight problem.”
“No, you think.” Patrick snapped as Gabe took his hand away, moving right over to talk to Joe, no doubt, about the money they could get for mass producing them.
“The only thing, though...” Gabe reached out, snagging a mini Patrick angel, starting to slowly pull his tiny clothes off. “Are we sure they're anatomically correct?'
“Oh my God, stop undressing me!” Patrick sputtered, trying to jump over there and save his mini from the grabby hands of Gabe Saporta.
But Gabe bounced around, and held the mini over Patrick's head so he couldn't reach, finally tugging down the little jeans. “Oh, wow. They have little-”
“I don't need to hear this.” Patrick groaned, hands coming over his ears as he tried to drown out the other's words.
Pete, however, wasn't that squeamish, and he grabbed the Patrick to see for himself. “Dude, it's...” his head tilted to the side as he pondered. “Hmm...” he grabbed the real Patrick and tried to unzip his pants.
“What are you fucking DOING?!” Patrick screeched, hitting him on the head until he let him go.
“Seeing if it's right!”
Patrick stared, horrified, and backed up till he was nestled next to Andy, who he was fairly sure wouldn't be trying to undress him. “You've lost your mind, Pete Wentz, look at your own body!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he blushed and another devil Patrick was born.
Gabe held it up between his fingers. “Dude, that is so awesome. Is it just your thoughts about Pete, or does it work for anyone?”
“...I...” that was a good question. “Don't know...”
“Okay. Think of me naked.”
Patrick groaned and rubbed at his eyes, smiling despite himself when Pete whacked Gabe on the back of the head. “Want to give him nightmares?”
Gabe snorted. “You've seen me naked, Wentz.”
“And you wonder why I don't sleep.”
The Cobra singer sputtered, unable to think of a comeback for that, and Will just patted him on the back softly. “It's all right...” He soothed him, kissing his cheek. “Just breathe, Gabe... Breathe.”
“I have a question.” Joe piped up, “We've got that the devils are born from thoughts of or related to fucking-”
“Impure thoughts.” Andy supplied.
“Yes, that.” The guitarist waved him away. “So we would say the angels would be born from thoughts of not fucking? Love, maybe?”
“Pure thoughts.”
“Yes, thank you, Einstein. As I was saying... Then why is there only one Pete angel?”
Everyone snorted. Even Pete. “That's easy.” Patrick smiled. “It's Pete.”
“Yes, but Pete is, and has been, madly in love with you for, like, forever.” Joe looked over at Pete, who shifted a little. “Haven't you? Or has it all been about fucking?” They were heading into dangerous ground here.
Pete opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “I...”
The lead singer froze. “Pete?”
There was a long moment of Pete shifting, before he shook his head. “No. Not just about fucking.” He smiled softly at him, not really caring about everyone else in the room as he pulled Patrick close to him, arms wrapped around him. “I love you.”
Patrick wasn't too certain until he heard the soft pop and he smiled, leaning into him. “I love you too, Pete.” Another pop, another angel Patrick.
“It's like a Truth-O-Meter!” Joe laughed softly.
“A truth meter with adorable prizes.” Gabe smiled, holding the brand new angel Pete and Patrick in his hands. “Look.” He held them up, they were looking at their counterparts and following their example, snuggling up.
“Now that's just too cute.” Will smiled, gently petting the top of their heads with a finger before he stretched and yawned, taking a look at the clock. It wasn't even nine thirty. “I think... its time we go home. And go back to bed.”
“What are we going to do with all these guys?” Patrick looked down at the colony of little mini's, cutting off Joe before he could even say the word 'Ebay' one more time.
“Get a bucket?” Pete suggested, shrugging.
“That's your problem.” Andy got to his feet, stretching, pulling up Joe and tugging him out the door, checking his pockets per Patrick's rather loud request. Clean, the two of them went home, closely followed by Will and Gabe, the latter whining all the way home that he hadn't been allowed to take a mini Patrick angel.
“I mean, c'mon.... Just one.”
“And what would you do with it?” Will was amused.
“...I...don't know... That's not the point!” Gabe pouted, leaning into his side. “It's the principle of the matter.”
“That you should be able to get everything you want, when you want it?”
“Yes.”
Will smiled softly and shook his head, pushing him into a nearby alley, pinning him to the wall. “You know I can't resist that pout.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a mini angel Patrick, who sat on his hand, blinking up at him.
“Oh my God you got me a Patrick!” He pulled the other close, and promptly kissed him, letting it last a lot longer than a 'thank you' kiss rightly should.
One Will was all too happy to let continue. After he'd set the Patrick mini down on a nearby window ledge. Thankfully the window's curtains were closed. And covered his eyes with a finger. “Yeah... I'm just sad, we didn't get him a Pete. He's going to be lonely.”
“Not quite.... Don't cover his eyes, let him watch.” Gabe laughed before he pulled out a devil Pete from his own pocket, setting him down on the window sill next to the other, laughing softly as they began to fight. “Look, its almost like the real thing.”
“Aw.” Will chuckled and leaned into him. “We have our own Peterick set.”
“Peterick.” Gabe chuckled, pulling him close again. “That's right... What are we called again?”
“Gabilliam.” He murmured against his lips.
“...That's right... I like that one.” He twined his fingers in his hair and pulled him flush against him, effectively cutting off anything William Beckett might have wanted to say.
The devil Pete, who was currently trying to beat the angel Patrick in the head with his own halo, looking up at the adults, tilting his head to the side, brown eyes slightly cloudy. Before he peeked down at the ruffled angel under him and quickly pecked his cheek.
THE END
"God DAMMIT, Pete! Stop chasing them with a bucket! It's not BIG ENOUGH!"
By: Licklicksalute1
Rating: R due to language
Summary: “Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, what did you DO?”
As much as Pete loved to hear Patrick so early in the morning, it was seven (a.m people, a.m) and he didn't altogether like being full named at aforementioned early hour in the morning. And in that tone of voice no less. Yes, Pete loved hearing Patrick, just not like this.
A/N: HAPPY V-DAY! This is inspired from a few things, actually. One, from a dream I had last night, which was inspired from these sources:
The infamous chibi pictures. Here and Here.
And something else, though I can't really think right now. Is it bad to really really want fan art of this? Lol. Too bad I can't really draw.
“Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, what did you DO?”
As much as Pete loved to hear Patrick so early in the morning, it was seven (a.m people, a.m) and he didn't altogether like being full named at aforementioned early hour in the morning. And in that tone of voice no less. Yes, Pete loved hearing Patrick, just not like this.
No, he loved hearing him when he was pressed to the wall, when he was writhing on the mattress under him, when he was - There was a serious of soft pops, and Patrick shrieked again. “PETE!”
Deciding it was probably a good idea to go see him, he climbed out of bed, padding barefoot and barely clothed out to the living room, eyebrows raising far into his hairline as he took in the sight of Patrick climbing on the counter.
“...Dude.” He realized that this was Patrick's house, and thus, he could climb on his own counters if he saw the need to, but really, Pete didn't see the need to at the moment. You know, unless he was doing something which required Patrick to be on the counter, and in that case...
Pop.
Patrick literally screamed like a girl and jerked his feet up on the counter, looking helplessly across the room at Pete. “Get them... get them away... What did you DO, you FUCKER.”
Pete rubbed at his face, not even awake yet. “What the hell are you talking about, OH MY GOD.” He had walked around the couch and promptly jumped onto it, staring horrified at his best friend. “What the HELL ARE THEY?!”
Patrick shook his head violently back and forth, resisting the impulse to scream 'I told you so!' at Pete. “I don't know! I think... I think they're YOU.” He wasn't going down to the floor though, not on anyone's life.
“Me?!” Pete snapped back at him, seeing Hemmingway out of the corner of his eyes. “No! Hemm, don't! Come back!” He tried in vain to reach for him, but it was his turn to shriek as his dog went down. “THEY ATE MY DOG!”
Patrick skidded backwards, nearly losing his grip and falling off the counter. To which he screamed and held on tightly to the wall. If he could have climbed onto the ceiling, he would have. At the moment, he was sizing up the top of the refrigerator.
Pete, on the other hand, wasn't going to take the consumption of his dog sitting down. All he could see was his dog on the ground, not really moving. He didn't think so. They were going down. He leapt off the couch, with a yell that made him sound like some cartoon hero, hitting the ground and getting slightly swarmed.
“Oh my God, they ate Pete! Oh my God!” Patrick was shaking back and forth, almost hyperventilating. “I'm next. That's it, they're going to eat me... I don't taste good...”
And then Pete sat up. “Huh...” He chuckled, holding one of them in his hands. “They're kinda cute actually.”
“Pete!” Patrick was overjoyed at him being alive, really he was. “Oh God, put it down!”
The bassist just laughed softly and got up, careful of the little ones running around before he cornered Patrick, who really wasn't up to meeting this thing, as he was trying to climb the walls and beat the forces of gravity. “Aw, c'mon Patrick, It's cute.”
“It is not -” Patrick made the mistake of looking over at Pete, thus losing his grip and slipping off the counter, landing hard on the ground. He screamed again, covering his head and curling up into a ball, whimpering something about not eating him.
When he didn't feel little teeth tearing into his flesh, he cautiously opened his eyes. And blinked. Blinked again. “...Pete...” He had one of the little monsters looking at him in the eyes, little hands on either side of his face, and bright brown eyes looking curiously at him. “...Pete... why... do they look so much like you...”
“See, they're cute.” Pete was sitting on the floor now, with Hemmy, who was alive and happy, playing with the... well, the mini-Pete's. “I don't think they can talk, though.”
“They have horns.” Patrick had carefully sat up, picking the little Pete off the ground, holding him in his palm while he carefully poked at the little horns on his head. “And a little tail! Pete, they're devils!” He paused. “Hell, they're not too far off the mark there, are they.”
“Shuddup.” Pete snorted, moving to his side, the mini-Pete's crowding around them. They were small, not very big at all. But there was a few of them. He saw Patrick peering somewhat angrily at him, and he sighed. “Yes?”
“Again, I reiterate. What did you do?”
“Why do you assume it's my fault?
“It's always your fault.”
Pete didn't answer, just laid down on the ground, playing with the mini-Pete devils, who really were rather cute. Patrick couldn't help the soft smile that slipped over his face as he watched him. He sort of looked like a father. A father of mutant miniature devil Pete Wentz's, but a father nonetheless.
Pop.
Patrick felt something on his shoulder, and he jerked a bit, hands coming up to stop the little thing before it could fall. How did they get up there.... He blinked down at the little thing in his hands, cleared his throat, blinked again.
“Hm... My fault, huh?” Pete chimed in, reaching over and picking up the little Patrick in bigger Patrick's hands. “Aw, it's so cute.” He purred, letting a mini Pete and a mini Patrick sit together on his hands. He gasped in horror as the Pete tackled the Patrick, trying to pull its wings off. Wait a second...
“Oh my God, you're an angel.” He snickered, laughing as regular sized Patrick tried to jump the mini's and make them stop fighting. “Pete! Make your.... thing... stop hurting me!” He finally detached them and hugged the mini angel Patrick, complete with hat, halo, and wings, to his chest.
“Dude, my mini so kicked your mini's miniature ass.”
Patrick glared, “Keep them away. They obviously don't get along. I wonder why -that- would be.”
“Aw, you love me, Trick.” Pete pouted up at him, and it melted Patrick, like it usually did. “See... I see that smile, c'mon... tell me you love me...” The pout deepened, and he had to bite off the laugh when Patrick cursed.
“Fine, dammit. I love you. Happy?”
Pete sighed, slipping over and setting the mini Pete down on the ground with the others, catching Patrick at the back of his neck, pulling him in, covering his mouth with his gently. “You don't mean it...”
Patrick squeaked, gasping a warning about mini Patrick, before he sighed softly and melted against him, kissing him back softly. “I do... I do mean it, Pete.. I love you.” He heard another pop, and barely registered the second angel Patrick that was now hugging the first and bouncing around on his lap.
Pete smiled, fingertips brushing against his cheek. “I love you too.” There were twin pops, this time. Another mini devil Pete, and... “Well....shit.” He held the second up with two fingers, gripping the back of his shirt as the angel Pete twirled slowly in a circle in the air, wings and a halo.
Patrick pulled back and pointed. “That is so wrong.”
“What?” Pete looked a little miffed. “Why can't I be an angel?”
Patrick just gave him a look and reached over, somehow managing to grab the phone, his shirt riding up a little. There was another pop almost as soon as his fingers touched the phone, and he glared over at Pete. “Don't you think we have enough of you?”
Pete looked slightly perplexed. “...I don't really know what's doing it.”
“You are. Stop it.”
Pete muttered something under his breath, but the singer wasn't paying attention, too busy dialing in a number, holding the phone to his ear. “Andy - yeah, yeah, I know its early... Um... Pete and I... we kind of have a problem...” A look crossed his face, something akin to horror and shock. “ANDY! I... no... we don't... I mean.... yes, yes we do.. I mean... oh my God, can't you just come over?” He almost hung up, but as an afterthought, shouted not to bring Joe, but Spencer was a good idea, and covered his face with his hands.
“What did he say?”
“He told me he wasn't going out to buy us condoms.”
Pete snorted, but his words were cut off by another pop. Patrick opened his mouth to tell at Pete, but the new devil was sporting blonde hair, a dark cap slightly twisted to the side, biker boots, and a leather vest. “....Shit.”
“Well, well, well...” Pete picked up devil Patrick, smirking.
“I didn't do that. It's not mine!” Patrick tried to defend himself, but the devil Patrick on Pete's hand was standing in a way that was just too familiar, his hand tilted and his face in a perfect 'oh bitch, please' look that had Pete almost rolling around on the floor, laughing.
Patrick jumped Pete to get him to stop, which resulted in a wrestling match on the floor with the mini Pete's, and the mini Patrick's watching, Hemmy sitting in between them, so they didn't start a fight of their own, angels on one side, devils on the other.
Which was the sight that Andy, and Joe, yes Joe, walked in on.
Patrick wasn't too happy. “I told you NOT TO BRING HIM!” He pointed at Joe, who was already playing with the minis.
Andy shrugged, “I couldn't wake Spence up. So I brought the next best thing.”
“The next best thing would have been BRENDON!”
Joe, who had heard all this, but was hardly phased, just picked up the angel Pete and Patrick and practically purred. “Look, match! I can sell them on Ebay!”
“NO!” Both Pete and Patrick screamed at him.
Joe pouted and put the minis down, sitting back as Andy came over, calmly looking over the minis. “Well, yes, I'd say condoms wouldn't help with this.” He sat down, poking at the devil Patrick, who glared and tried to bite him. “....You have a cannibal among you.” The drummer hummed, easily taking back his hand and looking up at Patrick. “Seems he has your temper.”
“Oh fuck you, Hurley.”
Pete snorted, kneeling next to him. “...So, any idea what caused this?”
“I would say you did.”
“Hah!” Patrick pointed triumphantly.
“But you helped.” Andy interjected, looking at Patrick, who promptly deflated from his loss of joy.
“What do you mean?” He demanded.
“Well, there are mini Pete's, and mini Patrick's.” Andy pointed to them as he spoke. “So, obviously... You had to have had a hand in this.”
Pete snickered quietly, and another devil Pete popped into existence.
“You.” Andy pushed him. Which was unnecessary, but still, he was close to figuring this out. “You. What did you do?”
“Um....”
“What were you thinking?”
Pete coughed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Um... Really, I don't think you want to know..”
“Peter Wentz..”
“I was thinking about me and Patrick.”
Pause.
“Patrick and I?”
Pause.
“Oh God are you dense. I was thinking about fucking Patrick fucking Stump, are you happy?”
Andy paused once again, mouth shutting slowly. “Hm.” He tapped his fingers on his leg, thinking. “Do it again.”
Pete, Patrick, and even Joe stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“Just do it.”
Pete frowned, but did as he said. Really, he had no problems with that. At the soft pop, his lips parted in surprise, and he looked guiltily over at Patrick, who was staring at him in shock. “So... all these little mini Pete's are because you were thinking about fucking me?”
“...Apparently.”
“You fucker.”
“Also apparently.”
Joe had a thoughtful look on his face before he reached out and poked Andy's side. “...Andy?”
“Yeah?”
“Think about fucking me.”
Andy blinked, staring at him now. “Why?”
“Because I was a mini devil Andy.” He pouted.
There was silence for a long moment, before Pete broke it, snorting as he grabbed his phone, and started lining up and posing, or attempting to, some of the little minis. “Now hold still.” he told them, snapping pictures.
“What in the name of all that is holy are you doing?” Patrick got to his feet, watching him with a wary look in his eyes.
“What does it look like? I'm taking pictures.”
Patrick made a grab for the phone. “Oh no you're not. Gimme that!”
Pete bit off a curse and dodged. “What the hell is your problem, it's not like I'm putting them on the Internet.”
“Oh, like I trust you with that!” Patrick snorted, grabbing the phone and trying to jerk it away. They fought over it, with Joe and Andy watching, before a soft ping filled the air and they both froze, staring down at the phone.
“Oh my God, tell me it didn't. Pete, tell me it fucking didn't!”
Pete even had a horrified look on his face as he snatched the phone back and started clicking buttons. After a moment he relaxed. “It didn't get sent to the Internet.”
Patrick breathed in relief. “Then what was the sound for?”
“It was sent to Gabe.”
“THAT'S NO BETTER!”
Twenty to twenty five minutes later, Pete was still trying to console Patrick, who was just calming down before the door opened again. And then he jumped to his feet. “OUT! Out now! Don't you even come in here, you son of a fucking bit-”
Gabe just reached forward and placed a hand over the other's mouth, effectively shutting him up as he let Will walk in ahead of him. “Nice to see you too, Patrick.”
Will raised a hand. “Hey guys.” He smiled and sat down next to Andy and Joe, decided everyone was taking this rather calmly, and thus, so should he. It wasn't the weirdest thing to have happened on the Decaydance label anyway. “I see you ... have a slight problem.”
“No, you think.” Patrick snapped as Gabe took his hand away, moving right over to talk to Joe, no doubt, about the money they could get for mass producing them.
“The only thing, though...” Gabe reached out, snagging a mini Patrick angel, starting to slowly pull his tiny clothes off. “Are we sure they're anatomically correct?'
“Oh my God, stop undressing me!” Patrick sputtered, trying to jump over there and save his mini from the grabby hands of Gabe Saporta.
But Gabe bounced around, and held the mini over Patrick's head so he couldn't reach, finally tugging down the little jeans. “Oh, wow. They have little-”
“I don't need to hear this.” Patrick groaned, hands coming over his ears as he tried to drown out the other's words.
Pete, however, wasn't that squeamish, and he grabbed the Patrick to see for himself. “Dude, it's...” his head tilted to the side as he pondered. “Hmm...” he grabbed the real Patrick and tried to unzip his pants.
“What are you fucking DOING?!” Patrick screeched, hitting him on the head until he let him go.
“Seeing if it's right!”
Patrick stared, horrified, and backed up till he was nestled next to Andy, who he was fairly sure wouldn't be trying to undress him. “You've lost your mind, Pete Wentz, look at your own body!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he blushed and another devil Patrick was born.
Gabe held it up between his fingers. “Dude, that is so awesome. Is it just your thoughts about Pete, or does it work for anyone?”
“...I...” that was a good question. “Don't know...”
“Okay. Think of me naked.”
Patrick groaned and rubbed at his eyes, smiling despite himself when Pete whacked Gabe on the back of the head. “Want to give him nightmares?”
Gabe snorted. “You've seen me naked, Wentz.”
“And you wonder why I don't sleep.”
The Cobra singer sputtered, unable to think of a comeback for that, and Will just patted him on the back softly. “It's all right...” He soothed him, kissing his cheek. “Just breathe, Gabe... Breathe.”
“I have a question.” Joe piped up, “We've got that the devils are born from thoughts of or related to fucking-”
“Impure thoughts.” Andy supplied.
“Yes, that.” The guitarist waved him away. “So we would say the angels would be born from thoughts of not fucking? Love, maybe?”
“Pure thoughts.”
“Yes, thank you, Einstein. As I was saying... Then why is there only one Pete angel?”
Everyone snorted. Even Pete. “That's easy.” Patrick smiled. “It's Pete.”
“Yes, but Pete is, and has been, madly in love with you for, like, forever.” Joe looked over at Pete, who shifted a little. “Haven't you? Or has it all been about fucking?” They were heading into dangerous ground here.
Pete opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “I...”
The lead singer froze. “Pete?”
There was a long moment of Pete shifting, before he shook his head. “No. Not just about fucking.” He smiled softly at him, not really caring about everyone else in the room as he pulled Patrick close to him, arms wrapped around him. “I love you.”
Patrick wasn't too certain until he heard the soft pop and he smiled, leaning into him. “I love you too, Pete.” Another pop, another angel Patrick.
“It's like a Truth-O-Meter!” Joe laughed softly.
“A truth meter with adorable prizes.” Gabe smiled, holding the brand new angel Pete and Patrick in his hands. “Look.” He held them up, they were looking at their counterparts and following their example, snuggling up.
“Now that's just too cute.” Will smiled, gently petting the top of their heads with a finger before he stretched and yawned, taking a look at the clock. It wasn't even nine thirty. “I think... its time we go home. And go back to bed.”
“What are we going to do with all these guys?” Patrick looked down at the colony of little mini's, cutting off Joe before he could even say the word 'Ebay' one more time.
“Get a bucket?” Pete suggested, shrugging.
“That's your problem.” Andy got to his feet, stretching, pulling up Joe and tugging him out the door, checking his pockets per Patrick's rather loud request. Clean, the two of them went home, closely followed by Will and Gabe, the latter whining all the way home that he hadn't been allowed to take a mini Patrick angel.
“I mean, c'mon.... Just one.”
“And what would you do with it?” Will was amused.
“...I...don't know... That's not the point!” Gabe pouted, leaning into his side. “It's the principle of the matter.”
“That you should be able to get everything you want, when you want it?”
“Yes.”
Will smiled softly and shook his head, pushing him into a nearby alley, pinning him to the wall. “You know I can't resist that pout.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a mini angel Patrick, who sat on his hand, blinking up at him.
“Oh my God you got me a Patrick!” He pulled the other close, and promptly kissed him, letting it last a lot longer than a 'thank you' kiss rightly should.
One Will was all too happy to let continue. After he'd set the Patrick mini down on a nearby window ledge. Thankfully the window's curtains were closed. And covered his eyes with a finger. “Yeah... I'm just sad, we didn't get him a Pete. He's going to be lonely.”
“Not quite.... Don't cover his eyes, let him watch.” Gabe laughed before he pulled out a devil Pete from his own pocket, setting him down on the window sill next to the other, laughing softly as they began to fight. “Look, its almost like the real thing.”
“Aw.” Will chuckled and leaned into him. “We have our own Peterick set.”
“Peterick.” Gabe chuckled, pulling him close again. “That's right... What are we called again?”
“Gabilliam.” He murmured against his lips.
“...That's right... I like that one.” He twined his fingers in his hair and pulled him flush against him, effectively cutting off anything William Beckett might have wanted to say.
The devil Pete, who was currently trying to beat the angel Patrick in the head with his own halo, looking up at the adults, tilting his head to the side, brown eyes slightly cloudy. Before he peeked down at the ruffled angel under him and quickly pecked his cheek.
THE END
"God DAMMIT, Pete! Stop chasing them with a bucket! It's not BIG ENOUGH!"