Pete was different, but in the way that made him untouchably cool. Mikey was also different, but in the way that made him basically invisible. (Pete/Mikey, side Frank/Gerard)
He liked to wear pants that hung low around his hips, which was pretty normal, except that they were tight, and they were usually some crazy-ass colour, bright red or purple or pinstriped or some shit. He seemed to have a different hoodie for each day of the year, and he wore them over band shirts or v-necks, and he had a thing for brightly coloured Vans and hightops. His straightened black hair flopped across one eye; sometimes he would spike it up using copious amounts of gel and hairspray. You would alomost never catch him without liner smudged around his eyes ("It's guyliner," he would insist to anyone who dared call it eyeliner. "There's a difference.") He was pretty short, only 5'7". He had a big, beaming smile that made everyone smile with him, and nobody knew what race he was. 80s chick flicks were his favourites and he wasn't afraid to admit it, and he mostly listened to music that you wouldn't find on the radio. Whenever he saw someone being picked on, he would stick up for them, even if it meant taking a few punches. Everybody respected him, if not full out admired him. He was also kind of gorgeous.
Mikey Way was also kind of different, and you could kind of tell by looking at him, but he was different in the way that made him basically socially invisible.
You see, Mikey Way was awkward. He had to be one of the most awkward teenagers ever to exist. He was tall and skinny and he had weird knees that always turned in toward each other, and he had wire-framed spectacles that always slid down onto the end of his nose; his mousy brown hair had to be straightened, because when it wasn;t, it was all weird and puffy.
Not to mention, he was socially awkward. He didn't talk much, and when he did it was usually in monosyllables. He loathed schooldances, and group projects, and gym, and any other activities that meant he had to actually interact with his fellow students. Whenever someone spoke to hm unexpectedly, he would flush slightly and stammer out a (monosyllabic) reply. Unless it was one of his friends.
Yes, he had friends, but don't be too impressed- his best friend was his older brother, Gerard, and he was kind of friends with Gerard's other best friend, Frank, and that was about it. He would eat lunch with Frank and Gerard, and sometimes he would even join in their conversations.
But other than that, Mikey didn't really talk to people. He was often referred to as shy, and really, that was a pretty accurate description if him. Mikey Way was shy, and Mikey Way was awkward, and Mikey Way had the most enormous crush on Pete Wentz.
He ignored it (for the most part) because it wasn't like anything would ever come of it. After all, Pete Wentz was one of the coolest, most well-liked people in the entire school, and Mikey was... well, he was Mikey, and there was no way Pete Wentz would ever like him, let alone notice his existence.
Mikey arrived in the cafeteria just in time to witness a fight beginning. A football player had some nerd backed into a corner, and Mikey couldn't help but roll his eyes at how stereotypical it all was, and also at how everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch.
The football player was halfway through some taunt when the door swung open behind Mikey, and then Pete Wentz was brushing past him, heading purposefully over to the nerd's aid.
"Hey," he called out. "Dude, let him go."
"Make me," said the football player, and a ripple went through the crowd of watchers, because that didn't happen often. People generally listened to Pete, not because they were afraid of him, but because he was just generally and genuinely respectable.
"I can't make you," said Pete, perfectly calmly. "I just think it's really not cool that you're picking on this guy just so people will think you're a badass or whatever. Everyone would probably like you better if you were, y'know, nice to people."
The football player was noticeably struggling for words. Pete just stood there expectantly, and Mikey decided he was going to stop watching and go sit down, because his heart was doing that stupid fluttery thing again, and those dumb-fuck butterflies were back.
It was a good thing, really, he decided, that no one paid much attention to him, because if Pete Wentz had ever had to do that for him, he would have fucking melted.
Mikey loved Gerard. Really, he did.He was a great older brother and a great friend. But sometimes, he just wanted to slap him. Sometimes Gerard just didn't know when to shut up.
Gerard was a strange combination of wordy and blunt. He could come up with amazing metaphors, and he could (and often did) go on forever about the way the light was hitting the side of a building or whatever, but occasionally he'd say something like "I'd love to stay and chat, but you're a bitch and I hate you" or "Yeah, those jeans do kind of make your ass look fat" or "Wow, Mikes, you've really got it bad for that Pete kid, don't you?"
Mikey had never been on the receiving end of either of the first two, but he constantly heard the third one, and it was annoying. And he couldn't even deny it, because Gerard could almost always see right through him. So after a while, he stopped trying to convince Gerard that he was fucking crazy, and switched to a tactic that (surprisingly) worked. He would say, very simply, "Shut up. You like Frank." and Gerard would not only drop the subject, but also turn a rather interesting shade of pink.
Mikey was careful to only say it when Frank wasn't there though. Because really, that would be a bit of a dick move, if he said it in front of Frank.
"You should talk to him," said Gerard on the day of the fight, after he'd caught Mikey sneaking a sidelong glance at Pete's table. Pete was sitting with his usual group- Andy Hurley, a long-haired kid who was constantly drumming on the tabletop or playing handheld video games; Joe Trohman, this metalhead who didn't really look like a metalhead but was totally a metalhead; and Patrick Stump, who was even shorter than Pete, a little on the chubby side, and almost never seen without a hat on. Patrick was Pete's best friend, although most people couldn't figure out why- Patrick was kind of like Mikey in that he was shy and quiet and kind of awkward. It was just to a lesser degree.
One of them had apparently said something funny, because all four of them were laughing their heads off. Mikey couldn't help but feel a little jealous.
"Are you kidding?!" he asked Gerard incredulously.
"Of course not!" said Gerard, looking genuinely surprised at Mikey's question.
"You're crazy," said Mikey impatiently. "That would be a disaster."
Frank arrived then, putting his bag on the table and plopping down next to Gerard. Gerard dropped it.
Mikey was hungry, and contrary to popular belief he actually ate when hungry. So he got into the lunch line, which was something he didn't really like doing.The people around him always invaded his personal bubble.
But he got through it, and walked away from the counter with a ham sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup. He walked quickly, his eyes trained on the ground; which, in a crowded cafeteria, is really not a good idea. You're bound to run into someone, and that is exactly what Mikey did. He walked right into someone, and when he looked up from the floor he found himself looking right at Pete Wentz, who was covered in tomato soup.
"SHIT!" he excalimed, horrified. "Shit, sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have been looking where I was going, I-"
"Dude, it"s okay," said Pete, smiling. "Don't sweat it."
Mikey gaped at him a little, because don't sweat it?! He was also pretty sure that his face was flaming red, and he really wished the floor would just open up and swallow him already.
"You're Mikey, right?" Pete asked, still smiling pleasently. "Mikey Way?" and Mikey had a mini internal freakout, holy shit he knows my name!, before managing to nod slightly.
"Cool," said Pete. "I'm Pete Wentz."
"I know," Mikey choked out, and Pete chuckled.
There was a small silence, which didn't seem to phase Pete but which made Mikey even more wildly uncomfortable than he already was, and then Pete suddenly pulled his shirt off, which, you know, made Mikey even more wildly uncomfortable than he could remember being ever before.
"What are you doing?" he squeaked, his eyes wide.
Pete chuckled again. "Can you hold this for a sec?" he asked, tossing the shirt to Mikey.
Mikey caught it and tried not to stare as Pete rummaged around in his bag for something. He failed miserably,
Eventually, Pete pulled out a hoodie and straightened up. Mikey hurriedly looked anywhere but at him.
"Thanks," Pete said, taking the shirt out of Mikey's hands and grinning at him again.
"N-no problem..." Mikey said dazedly.
"Hey... you wanna come sit with me and my friends?" Pete asked suddenly.
Mikey gawped at him, because seriously?! He had just spilled tomato soup all over this guy and then made a stammering fool of himself, yet he was still being invited to sit with him. What the fuck was this?!
But all Mikey could think about was the million and one ways he could fuck up, and how he wouldn"t be able to speak properly and he'd be a stammering, idiotic mess, and so he said, "Uhh... thanks for the offer but, uh, I'm kinda supposed to sit with my brother..." then cringed because he sounded like a total loser (which, you know, he kinda was, but there was always the slight possibility that Pete didn't know that and hadn't figured it out yet).
"Oh," said Pete, who actually looked disappointed for some reason. "OK. Well... I'll see you around then, Mikeyway."
Mikey nodded dumbly and watched him walked away, trying to ignore the voice in his head screaming at him that he was an idiot.
Mikey still looked shellshocked when he sat down across from Gerard, who was stifling laughter.
"Oh my God, Gerard," he sad shakily. "I spilled soup all over him!"
"Yeah, I know, I saw," said Gerard, with a terrible attempt to keep a straight face.
Mikey groaned. That was something he hadn't even thought of- how many people had just seen that?!
"I spilled soup all over him!" he cried, dropping his head into his hands.
"Aw, it"s okay, Mikes," said Gerard insincerely. "I'm sure anyone could spill soup all over the guy they have a massive crush on..."
He then proceeded to burst out giggling. Mikey was not at all reassured.
"Shut up," he muttered. "You like Frank."
The front stairs of the school were always surprisingly deserted at the end of the day. Or maybe it wasn't so surprising. Everybody wanted to get the fuck out of there.
Mikey did too, but he was waiting for his slowpoke brother, so he sat on the steps and pulled out his iPod.
But before he could put his headphones on, someone sat down next to him.
"Hey, Mikeyway," said Pete Wentz.
Mikey froze, his face going red. "Hi," he squeaked.
Pete nudged his shoulder gently. "Why are you blushing? You're not still embarrassed about earlier, are you? Cause honestly, that was no big deal."
"Oh. Um," said Mikey intelligently. He self-conciously shifted his feet so that his knees weren't pointing in towards each other.
Pete laughed and god, Mikey loved that sound. It was just such a great laugh, not forced at all, and Mikey couldn't help but crack a small smile despite his embarrassment.
"Oh, there we go!" exclaimed Pete happily, slinging an arm over Mikey's shoulders, and Mikey's smile grew, which shocked Mikey a bit.
"So, what's up, Mikeyway? Why are you sitting out here all by your lonesome?" Pete asked, sounding like he was actually interested.
By some miracle, Mikey managed to answer without stammering or blushing or saying something utterly stupid, "I'm just waiting for Gerard."
"Is Gerard your brother?"
"Cool," Pete smiled. "I'm waiting for 'Trick."
Mikey nodded and braced himself for the awkward silence that he was sure was about to begin, but it never came. Pete just kept chatting, a friendly smile on his face, asking questions about the bands Mikey liked, the type of movies he watched, if he liked to read, and so on, and Mikey somehow, miraculously, managed to answer them all without looking like too much of an idiot, and Pete kept nodding and smiling and looking like he actually cared.
When Patrick came through the doors behind them and tapped on Pete's shouloder, his eyebrows raised, Mikey felt a twinge of disappointment instead of the relief he'd been expecting.
"It was really nice talking to you, Mikeyway," Pete said, hauling himself to his feet. "I'll see you around, yeah?"
Mikey nodded, trying not to seem too eager. "Sure," he said. "Yeah."
Pete grinned. "Awesome," he said, and he seemed genuine, and Mikey was skipping around and squealing inside.
He watched Pete and Patrick walk away, noticing how Pete walked with just a bit of strut in his step. Patrick said something that Mikey couldn't hear and Pete glanced back at him briefly, grinning, before shaking his head at Patrick. Mikey could hear his laughter from where he sat, and his stomach clenched for a moment, but it sounded good-natured, and it seemed to be directed at Patrick, not Mikey, especially since Patrick then shoved Pete sideways half-heartedly.
And, of course, Gerard had caught the end of that exchange and seen Pete get up and walk away with Patrick too, so Mikey heard about how Gerard was so proud of him for actually having a conversation with Pete Wentz, all the way home.
The thing with Gerard was that, each time Mikey took a little baby step towards whatever it was Gerard wanted him to accomplish (whether by accident or through Gerard relentlessly bugging him about it until he finally just did it, to get Gerard off his back), as soon as he'd taken that little step, Gerard would want him to take a bigger one. And so the day after Mikey had his first actual conversation with Pete Wentz, Gerard said casually, "You should ask him if he wants to hang out sometime."
Mikey probably should have seen that coming, but that didn't stop him from choking on his sandwich.
"What?" he sputtered.
Gerard just smiled and gave him this stupid "encouraging" nod.
"Yeah, well, you like Frank," said Mikey with finality.
Even though he'd probably heard that from Mikey at least a hundred times by then, Gerard still turned pink.
To Mikey's surprise (and Gerard's delight), these after-school conversations with Pete became a regular thing. How he was actually managing to talk to Pete was beyond him, but he was; actually, he was pretty sure he'd talked more to Pete in a week than he had to Frank in all the time he'd known him. Sometimes he'd even find himself blabbing on about something, the guitar part to some song or a particularly suspenseful scene in a horror movie or something, without realizing it. Almost every time this happened, he would glance over at Pete to find him smiling softly at him.
"Sorry," Mikey would say, flushing. "I'll stop rambling now."
"It's okay," Pete would reply. "I like listening to you talk."
MIkey also found out a lot about Pete during these conversations. He'd always known that Pete was a pretty cool guy, but there was more to him than that, which is something you never really consider when admiring someone from afar.
He found out that Pete had a way with words and that he liked to write lyrics. He found out that he was considering taking a Social Sciences course in university, but that he also wanted to be in a band. He learned everything from Pete's favourite song to his opinion on healthcare reforms. It was kind of strange, Mikey thought, how each day Pete became more attractive to him, yet every day he became more comfortable with him.
It was a few weeks after their first conversation when Mikey mentioned that he played bass. Pete's eyes lit up and he said "You play bass?! Me too! What does your bass look like?"
"It's a red P-bass. White pickguard," said Mikey proudly.
"Awesome!" said Pete, grinning.
"You could come over and see it some time," Mikey blurted out. Shit, he thought the second the words had left his mouth. What the fuck did you just do, you idiot?!
"Really?" said Pete, looking surprised but pleased. "That would be awesome! Where do you live?"
Mikey, flushing and stammering a bit, told him, trying to ignore the funny ittle jolt in the pit of his stomach when Pete pulled out a marker and scribbled the address down on his hand.
It was a little surprising, really, how fast everything with Pete moved, especially considering how Mikey had never exactly been good at making friends. Yet somehow, he had made friends with Pete Wentz of all people.
Pete actually did end up coming over to see Mikey's bass (causing Mikey to almost have a heart attack upon opening the door); and then he came over again the next weekend to watch a movie; and then he started coming over after school sometimes for no particular reason, just to hang out; and then one night, as Mikey lay awake in his bed, there was a rattle of pebbles against his windowpane. Wondering if he'd fallen asleep after all and was now dreaming, he got up, grabbed his glasses and wandered over to find that Pete was standing on his lawn with a handful of small stones.
He slid the window open. "Give me five minutes," he called quietly, and Pete grinned.
He threw his jeans and t-shirt back on, trying not to flash Pete as he did so; he shoved some shoes on and listened for any signs of movement. Hearing nothing, he dashed downstairs and out the door.
"What's up?" he panted as he reached Pete.
"Wanna go for a walk?" Pete asked perfectly casually, as if it weren't past midnight.
"It's the middle of the night, dude," Mikey pointed out.
"I know," said Pete. "I just like walking at night. Everything seems kinda magical, you know?"
Mikey looked around. The moonlight shone off the trees and the buildings, and shadows stretched across the ground, and Pete was standing in front of him in pyjama pants and a t-shirt, hair tousled like he'd just been tossing and turning in bed, and face free of makeup.
"Sure," Mikey said. "Let's go."
They ended up in a park, not too far from Mikey's house. Pete flopped down on the ground, grabbed Mikey's hand, and yanked him down with him.
"Jerk," Mikey mumbled half-heartedly, lying back and stretching his arms over his head. Pete lay perpendicular to him and rested his head on Mikey's chest. Mikey worried briefly that Pete had felt his heart speed up.
They both looked up at the sky, where a few stars glittered weakly, dampened by the city lights.
"I'll be stuck fixated on one star when the world is crashing down," said Pete absentmindedly, dreamily, and Mikey thought maybe he'd died and gone to heaven.
There was a long silence, but it was not an awkward one, and Mikey couldn't stop smiling. He wondered vaguely what had happened, how Pete had managed to unlock him; but anyway, that wasn't important. What was mportant was that, somehow, he had.
"You're awesome, you know that, Mikeyway?" said Pete suddenly. "I'm really glad you spilled tomato soup all over me."
Mikey flushed, laughed. "That was so fucking embarrassing."
"It was endearing," Pete chuckled. "You were so apologetic."
"Oh," said Mikey, flushing a little more and unable to think of anything else to say.
"I'm glad we're friends," said Pete lazily.
At that, Mikey's insides went into turmoil, unable to decide between ecstasy, or sadness because that was all they were, all they would ever be.
"Honestly, Mikey," Pete continued pensively. "You're like... on the same level as 'Trick." and Mikey's insides decided on sadness.
"Just in a different building," Pete added very quietly, and Mikey wasn't sure he'd heard right, and he had no idea what it meant anyway, so he just stifled a self-pitying sigh and tried not to think about how close Pete was and how, if Pete just turned his head, it would be so easy to kiss him.
A few days later, Mikey was sitting on the steps talking to Pete as usual when Frank walked by.
"Hey Mikey!" he called. "See you tomorrow!"
"Yeah," he called back.
"That was Frank, right?" Pete asked, watching him walk away. "Your brother's boyfriend?"
Mikey stifled a laugh, because seriously?! That was probably the best thing he'd heard all day.
"What?" asked Pete, looking confused.
"Frank's....not... Frank and Gerard aren't dating," Mikey explained amusedly.
Pete looked embarrassed. "Shit," he said. "Sorry, I just, I saw the way they look at each other and I just assumed..."
"It's okay," Mikey said. "They might as well be dating. They're practically joined at the hip, and they're fucking infatuated with each other. They just won't admit it."
"Well, maybe you should talk to them about it," Pete grinned.
"Yeah," said Mikey. "Maybe."
"You should ask him out," said Gerard the next day at lunch.
"You're crazy," Mikey replied dully.
"I am not!" Gerard protested. "You've had it bad for him for ages, and I think he likes you."
"He does not."
"He does so! Seriously, Mikey, you should-"
"You're such a hypocrite, Gerard," Mikey snapped, aggravated.
"What?" Gerard said, looking offended.
"YOU LIKE FRANK."
"Wait, what?" asked Frank, who, Mikey remembered belatedly, was already at the table.
Gerard glared murderously at him from across the table.
Frank stared at Gerard.
Mikey gulped again.
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered.
Gerard's expression didn't change.
"Gee....?" Frank breathed.
"I'm just gonna... go..." said Mikey, scrambling to his feet.
He dashed out of the cafeteria without stopping to think about where he was going. So, of course, he ended up on the front steps.
He sat down heavily and put his face in his hands. "Fuck," he said. "Shit. I'm such an idiot."
"Hey, don't say that, Mikeyway," said someone from behind him.
"But Pete," Mikey whined, "It's true. Did you see what I just did?!"
"I saw you suddenly get up and run out of the cafeteria," said Pete, dropping down beside him. "What happened?"
"I told Frank that Gerard likes him," Mikey groaned.
"What?!" Pete sounded alarmed. "That's kind of..."
"A dick move?"
"I know, I feel terrible," Mikey sighed. "I didn't really mean to... I forgot he was at the table... I was just pissed at Gerard..."
"Oh shit," said Pete sympathetically. "Well... you never know, maybe it's a good thing. I mean, you said Frank likes him back, right?"
"Yeah, he does," Mikey said. "I guess you're right. They better make out because of this, though. Or Gerard'll kill me."
As it turned out, Frank and Gerard did make out as a result of Mikey's outburst (although not in the cafeteria, thankfully). And so, instead of getting his ass kicked, Mikey had his ear talked off.
"Thanks, Mikes," said Gerard eventually, positively beaming. "I mean, earlier I was ready to kill you, but... y'know, not anymore. I owe you one. You totally hooked me up."
Shit, Mikey thought. "I'm good," he said weakly.
"No way, I definitely owe you one," said Gerard, smirking evilly.
Oh god, thought Mikey.
He spent the next few hours trying to prepare himself for the impending loss of his and Pete's friendship, but he couldn't quite manage it.
But Gerard was not a particularly vindictive person, and so instead of embarrassing the shit out of Mikey and telling Pete everything, Gerard dragged him to the school dance the following Friday instead.
"I don't wanna pay ten bucks to go to some shitty school dance," Mikey had complained.
"I'll pay for you," Gerard had said insistently. "You're not getting out of this, Michael."
That was when Mikey had known he was going to have to go to this dumb dance. Gerard only used his full name when he was being dead serious.
And so, MIkey found himself standing by the snack table, clutching one of those dumb red plastic cups full of punch and trying not to look at anyone. He didn't recognize the song that was being played, but it was some shitty dance song adn it was making his head hurt.
A school dance is not a good environment for a socially awkward person, for obvious reasons. It's dark, it's loud, and there are dancing people everywhere. It would have been bearable, Mikey supposed, if Gerard had stuck with him, but of course Frank had come too and he and Gerard had gone off to dance or make out or some other couple-y thing. And so, Mikey had to stand against the wall by the punch bowl by himself, looking like even more of a loser than usual. Because there was no way he was dancing.
He was so busy focusing on not meeting anyone's eyes that he didn't even notice Pete sidle up and lean against the wall beside him. In fact, he didn't even notice his presence until he leaned in and said "Hey, Mikeyway!" into his ear.
Mikey jumped violently, letting out a little yelp and dropping his cup of punch. "Jesus, Pete!" he exclaimed. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" but a smile was spreading across his face, so he doubted Pete would listen.
"You don't look like you're hving much fun," Pete remarked, his mouth still close to Mikey's ear in order to be heard above the music.
Mikey shrugged. "Do I look like the type to have fun at a school dance?"
"Nope," Pete grinned. "Wanna ditch?"
"Fuckin' Gerard, man," Mikey groaned when they escaped from the confines of the dark gymnasium. "That was cruel and unusual punishment."
"Yeah, well, I don't see why he has any reason to punish you," Pete smirked. "I saw him and Frank getting cosy earlier."
"I know!" Mikey exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "I don't see what he's complianing about. I guess he just likes to bug me."
"Probably," said Pete. "So where do you want to go?"
They ended up on a bench in the park near Mikey's house.
"Gerard's not going to freak out at you for ditching, is he?" Pete asked, a little belatedly.
Mikey was about to say "probably", but it occured to him that he was with Pete, which Gerard would whole-heartedly encourage, so instead he said "Nah."
"Good," said Pete, stretching his arms over his head. "I hate those things. They're so boring. This is so much nicer."
"Yup," said Mikey simply. He didn't think Pete noticed the faint blush that had spread across his cheeks.
"You know what?" Pete said suddenly. "I really like you, Mikeyway."
Mikey just about had a heart attack. "Wait, what?!"
"Yeah," said Pete calmly. "I've been meaning to tell you for a while."
Mikey turned to look at him and oh my god Pete was leaning in slightly, looking purposeful, almost like...
"Wait, like... you like me? Or like... you like me?" Mikey blurted out.
Pete chuckled. "I like you," he said, unperturbed. "I really, really like you."
Mikey's jaw dropped. He instinctively pinched his forearm. It hurt like a bitch, so he wasn't dreaming. (Although he'd had a similar dream once, before he and Pete became friends. Which was pretty much just sad when he thought about it.)
"So...um... can I kiss you now?" Pete grinned, and Mikey somehow grinned back through his shock.
"Yeah," he said somewhat giddily. "Yeah."
Pete made a relieved little noise and leaned in, but Mikey leaned in too and their noses bumped. Because Mikey's life is just like that.
"Seriously?" he groaned, rubbing his nose.
Pete laughed. "Maybe just... stay still for a moment, yeah?"
"That's probably a good idea," Mikey mumbled, hoping his face wasn't too red.
And so Mikey held perfectly still for a moment and Pete leaned in a third time and then, oh my god, he, Mikey Way, was kissing Pete Wentz. It was better than Mikey had ever imagined (And he had spent quite a lot of time doing just that) and he thought briefly that Gerard would be proud if he saw him now, before realizing that no, he would probably actually be grossed out.
Whatever. Screw Gerard.
Gerard didn't even end up finding out until Monday, because Mikey didn't feel like dealing with with him being a smug little bitch about it all weekend. It was so pleasent not having to put up with it that Mikey was pretty much resolved to never tell him ever. He knew that wasn't going to work though. Gerard would find out somehow.
Monday's after-school conversation with Pete primarily consisted of Mikey complaining about how unbelievably shitty Math class had been, which led to a make-out session on the front steps (which was probably not the best idea, but it was Pete, so it was okay).
The make-out session was rudely interrupted by a couple of wolf whistles.
Mikey and Pete broke apart and looked up just in time to catch Frank, who had been one of the wolf-whistlers, yell "HIGH FIVE!" at Patrick, who had evidently been the other. Patrick stared at Frank's proffered hand for a second like it might bite him before tentatively slapping it.
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!" yelled Frank, and Patrick looked completely bemused, but grinned anyway.
Gerard looked torn between jumping for joy and puking his guts up.
"Um... what the fuck?" he said weakly.
Pete started laughing. "You didn't tell him?" he chuckled, poking Mikey in the ribs.
Mikey tried to scowl, but couldn't quite manage it. "Um... no..."
"Tell me what?" Gerard asked, having apparently lost all brain function due to shock. "When did this happen? What happened?"
Frank rolled his eyes fondly. "What do you think happened, darling?"
A look of understanding dawned on Gerard's face. "Oh my god! You guys totally hooked up at that dance, didn't you?!"
"Not at the dance, no," said Pete cheekily. Gerard looked confused again until he added, "We ditched."
Mikey braced himself.
"GOD, Mikey, I told you he's into you! You should have just listened to me, but NOOOOOO, you just had to be all stubborn and idiotic and awkward and spill tomato soup all over him, GOD FUCKING DAMN-" Gerard practically shrieked before being cut off by Frank's hand clapped over his mouth.
"Sorry 'bout that," he said apologetically. "We'll leave you two alone."
Mikey gave him a thankful look as he dragged Gerard off. Patrick flashed Pete a thumbs up before walking off too, causing Pete to blush (Mikey couldn't believe his eyes).
"Sorry about that," they both said at the same time, laughing at their unintentional synchronicity. Pete leaned back in to reconnect their lips, and Mikey no longer felt invisible.
He couldn't have been happier.
Super shitty ending ugh ugh sorry D:
Props to Mayday Parade for the title. For those who don't recognize it, it's from the Mayday Parade song I'd Hate To Be You When People Find Out What This Song Is About ("And now you're trying desperately but I'm tongue-tied and terrified of what I'll say")
also: shout-out to Fef! You can.... ahem... come over and see my bass....any time! ;)
rate and review, my lovelies? :)