Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Clandestine Industries Presents: disasteRomance
Author's Note: First of all, I hope everyone reading this has a kick ass new year--lots of champagne, confetti and all that fun stuff.
Instead of doing homework and practicing double bass, I've been furiously writing for the past few days. (I'll probably regret it later, but oh well). As usual, this piece is dedicated to the following people:
pyrotechnist - Not many people know this, but puppies make the world go round. lol.
--delilah - Warning: awkwardness alert for this chapter. Hope you like it.
skylinesXturnstiles - Hurrying as I type. I have a feeling you'll really like this one.
jewsicax - For a second, I thought you were talking about 'Let's Get It On' by Marvin Gaye. Then I started thinking about High Fidelity and how Jack Black was singing it. Then I got all warm and fuzzy at the thought of Rob Gordon and Laura getting back together. Anyways, thanks for the review. You shall not be disappointed (at least, I hope you aren't)
redballoon - In this fic, I've made Pete incapable of making a first move. lol.
lil_chica007 - I wish a dog could fetch my clothes, too.
glindapsawyer - Aww, I wish I had a dog. All I have is a fish that gets scared whenever I walk by the tank. =/
x_slowdown - Hehe. Dirty has feelings, too.
TangerineSky - Team Poap wins another one!
bindie611 - lol. I'm not sure if I'm ready to take on sci-fi.
Lizzard - Pirty? You are definitely the only person that has suggested that. I'll take it into consideration. =P
medicatedlives - Yes, yes. Hemmy = genius.
SugarPlumFaerie - Chicago weather is a bitch right now. I wish I had a cute, tattooed boy to snuggle with, too.
kittkattbar - JUNO!!! I cannot express how much I love that movie. Michael Cera in track shorts = YUM.
All of you will be recieving life-sized cardboard cut outs of Abe Lincoln and Conan O'Brien action figures.
30: j u s t a l i t t l e t u r b u l e n c e
-----
Pete’s POV
“Sophieeeee,” I whined. “Quit hogging Guitar Hero.”
“Hold up, I’m almost done.”
“That’s what you said before the battle with Tom Merillo.”
“Ugh…Eres muy fastidioso,” she said, simultaneously hitting the whammy bar.
“I’m not annoying. Just observant.”
“Let’s agree to disagree on that one.”
“Hey, there are thousands of people who would beg to differ.”
“Yeah, and a majority of them are preteen girls who want to have your children.”
“You’re just jealous because I’m an international sex symbol.”
“I still think Beckett’s prettier than you.”
“Ouch, Soap. That one hurt.”
“The truth usually does that to an inflated ego,” she said, strumming the last notes of ‘Through the Fire and Flames.’
She smirked as I drew a blank.
When playing the insult game, she was the only person who could match me.
Or in this case, beat me… And oddly enough, I was okay with it.
“Okay, you can play now,” she said, after entering in a new top score.
“Finally,” I said, peeling myself off the couch.
Right as she slipped the guitar over her head, the bus came to a screeching halt, tossing Sophie into me, consequently sending me into the floor.
As Sophie opened her mouth to apologize, our eyes locked onto one another’s. You could have cut the tension with a knife… or a fork… maybe even a plastic spoon.
Inhale…
Her face was unreadable. I can only guess what mine looked like.
Exhale…
While I was trying to remember to how to breathe, Sophie leaned down and pressed her lips onto mine.
The cold metal of her lip ring and the warmth of her mouth were too much for my brain to handle. The fact that it was Sophie of all people didn’t make matters any simpler. I wasn’t sure if I should inhale, move my lips, or somehow do both at once.
“Shit, is everyone okay?” we heard Dirty call from the front of the bus.
I quickly pulled away from the kiss, catching her off guard.
“I think we’re at the venue,” I lamely said. She got up and I made my best effort to avoid eye contact as I picked myself off the floor.
“You guys alright?” Patrick asked, walking into the room. “I heard something fall.”
“Um, yeah,” she said, picking up the controller. “Kind of tripped when we stopped, but there’s no damage done.”
She set the plastic guitar onto the couch, then turned the console off.
Not wanting to make an even bigger fool of myself, I grabbed my bass and practically ran off the bus.
-----
Soap’s POV
“What’s up with him?” Patrick asked as Pete blew past us with his bass.
“I have no idea…” I said, truthfully.
“Hey, is it just me, or did Pete just leave the bus without Hemmy?” Andy asked.
The English bulldog heard his name and stepped out from behind the door. Noticing that Pete was gone, looked up at me with expectant eyes.
“Aww, don’t worry boy. We didn’t forget about you.”
He walked over and I gave him a reassuring pet on the head.
“Did I miss something?” Joe asked. I shrugged off the question and we continued inside the venue. It was clear that Pete wanted some space, so I gave Trick control of Hemmy’s leash and branched off in my own direction.
-----
Hemmy's POV
"What do you think happened on the bus?" Patrick asked as Dirty took his turn bowling.
"No clue. I haven't seen him run off the bus like that since Joe chased him down with a paintball gun."
'Sophie fell on top of Pete. She kissed him. He freaked,' I thought to myself.
Being a dog, I don't know much about romance other than what I see firsthand or on television. Still, it was obvious that running away isn't the usual response when someone kisses you.
With neither of them in sight, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen next.
Knowing Pete, he's probably beating himself up over how he ran away.
But Sophie?
I have no idea how she was taking it.
It was clear that she was disappointed in Pete’s reaction. I could see it in her eyes after he pulled away.
-----
Soap’s POV
Restless, I tried to make myself useful and stopped by the merch tables.
“Need any help?”
“Oh, hey Soap!” Aaron said, setting the a large box onto the floor. “Yes, actually. Could you help me sort through these t-shirts?”
“Sure,” I said, joining him behind the table.
“I think Dirty just tossed everything into one box. Definitely the last time I ask him for a favor.”
“Well, that’s Dirty for ya.”
We each grabbed a handful of shirts and got to work.
Half an hour later, everything was set. One of each shirt, hoody, tote bag and poster were hung up on the wall. 3 neat piles of CDs were stacked in the corner of the table and complimentary stickers were laid out.
“Thanks for the help, Sophie. We finished in record time.” He took a seat in a plastic folding chair while I leaned against the side of the table.
I directed my attention to the floor and noticed that every other tile was green, creating a huge checkerboard pattern.
“Sophie?”
“Hmm?” I lifted my head and was met with concerned eyes.
“…Not to pry or anything, but you seem kind of distant,” he noted. “Is there something on your mind?”
“Kind of…” I said, hopping onto the table’s edge.
“I may not have known you for 20 years, but I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re stressed. What’s up?”
I glanced at my shoes and sighed.
“Boy issues,” I said, moving my feet from side to side.
“Anyone I know?”
“Probably not. He worked at the gas station a few miles back,” I joked. He rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he said, sincerely.
“I do, it’s just…” I paused to find a suitable word to describe the situation. “…Messy.”
“Messy?” he quoted. “I think I know who you’re talking about. 5’8”. Tight jeans--”
“Eyeliner, unbelievably sarcastic,” I cut in. “…Yeah, that’s him.”
“Since when are you--”
“We’re not…” I trailed off.
“…But you want to be?” he asked, tentatively.
“Yeah… No… Maybe?” I sighed, swinging my feet back and forth. “I don’t know what I want, and it’s apparent that he doesn’t either.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I kissed him. He freaked out and ran off the bus.”
“Always the drama king, isn’t he?”
“Pretty much…”
I felt like DW in that one episode of Arthur. The one where she wants James to kiss her. “ I just had to pick the one boy in class who won’t kiss me!”
“You know what I think?”
“What?” I asked, looking up at him curiously.
“You should go talk things out with him.”
“Shouldn’t I give him some space?” I asked. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”
“That’s bull. The more you ignore it, the more you’ll both overanalyze things. That in turn, would make things a whole lot more complicated because you’ll end up interpreting each other’s blinking patterns.”
I playfully punched his shoulder, but I knew he was right.
“It’s kind of hard to talk to him when he’s avoiding me like the plague.”
“Well, he can’t hide forever,” Aaron noted. “He’s Pete-motherfucking-Wentz.” I smiled.
“Thanks, for the advice Aaron.” I hopped off the side of the table and wrapped him in a hug.
“No problem,” he said, returning the embrace.
Pulling away, he gave me a reassuring smile. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
As Panic’s set rolled on, I wandered around the building in search of an overdramatic boy. He wasn’t watching the show from the side of the stage. He wasn’t in their dressing room playing on the Wii with Andy and Dirty. He wasn’t following Joe as he took pictures. He wasn’t taking part in the Twister tournament with Cobra. He wasn’t passed out on one of the couches. He wasn’t in the bathroom either (there was only a confused janitor who thought I was lost). It seemed like the boy disappeared into thin air.
Half an hour passed, and still no luck.
“Fuck it. I’m hungry,” I said to no one in particular. My feet followed my brain, which followed my stomach, which followed my nose, eventually leading me to the catering room.
Pete and Patrick were on the other side, filling up on cheese and crackers.
I guess they saying’s true: The way to a guy’s heart really is through his stomach.
“Trick, mind if I borrow Pete for a sec?”
“Be my guest,” he said. “I have to catch up with Andy and Dirty for the Guitar Hero tournament anyways.” Trick gave him a pat on the shoulder as he stood up. “Talk to you later, Pete.” He silently nodded in response.
Upon making his exit, Patrick unknowingly left a trail of tumbleweeds behind.
“…About earlier--”
“We can both forget about it,” he said, cutting me off.
“Pete…”
He still had his eyes fixated on his sneakers, acting like they’d provide him with some sort of escape plan. I took a seat next to him and placed my hand on his chin, tilting it up so he’d have to look at me.
“Sophie, I can’t…” he said, turning away.
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Why?” I asked, somewhat frustrated. “It’s obvious that there’s something between us.”
“We’d be kidding ourselves if we tried to make it work,” he said. “I’m a mess and you're a disaster. We’re both liars…”
“But you run. You'll always be running. I say we stay and fight.” I said, completing the quote from Mr. & Mrs. Smith.
He looked up at me, surprised that I caught his reference.
“Why are you being so stubborn with this?” I asked.
“I could ask you the same question,” he quipped. “It was a mistake… Just drop it, Sophie.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘No’? This isn’t a debatable issue.”
“That’s what you think.”
He sighed. “You’re a lighter and I’m a batch of M-80s. Together we’d only end in some sort of tragedy…”
“First of all, if either of us were dangerous fireworks, it would be me. And second, since when is Pete Wentz scared of explosives?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Sophie,” he said, directing his gaze toward the his hands.
“Then don’t.”
I cupped the side of his face and pressed my lips against his. He was reluctant at first, but quickly returned the sentiment. As I massaged the back of his neck, he gently sucked on my lip ring, sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.
Sometime between the bus incident and now, he became /a lot/ better at kissing.
“I was right about one thing,” Pete said, slowly pulling away.
“And what would that be?” I asked. He chuckled before responding.
“There were definite fireworks just now.”
-----
The first and second times they kissed, it was all for show.
The third time, Pete was a drama queen.
The fourth and fifth times were the charm.
It's true. After forever and a day, they're finally getting together.
Celebrate this momentous occasion by RATING, REVIEWING and or AIMing me @ Disast3rous.
You know you wanna.
;)
Instead of doing homework and practicing double bass, I've been furiously writing for the past few days. (I'll probably regret it later, but oh well). As usual, this piece is dedicated to the following people:
pyrotechnist - Not many people know this, but puppies make the world go round. lol.
--delilah - Warning: awkwardness alert for this chapter. Hope you like it.
skylinesXturnstiles - Hurrying as I type. I have a feeling you'll really like this one.
jewsicax - For a second, I thought you were talking about 'Let's Get It On' by Marvin Gaye. Then I started thinking about High Fidelity and how Jack Black was singing it. Then I got all warm and fuzzy at the thought of Rob Gordon and Laura getting back together. Anyways, thanks for the review. You shall not be disappointed (at least, I hope you aren't)
redballoon - In this fic, I've made Pete incapable of making a first move. lol.
lil_chica007 - I wish a dog could fetch my clothes, too.
glindapsawyer - Aww, I wish I had a dog. All I have is a fish that gets scared whenever I walk by the tank. =/
x_slowdown - Hehe. Dirty has feelings, too.
TangerineSky - Team Poap wins another one!
bindie611 - lol. I'm not sure if I'm ready to take on sci-fi.
Lizzard - Pirty? You are definitely the only person that has suggested that. I'll take it into consideration. =P
medicatedlives - Yes, yes. Hemmy = genius.
SugarPlumFaerie - Chicago weather is a bitch right now. I wish I had a cute, tattooed boy to snuggle with, too.
kittkattbar - JUNO!!! I cannot express how much I love that movie. Michael Cera in track shorts = YUM.
All of you will be recieving life-sized cardboard cut outs of Abe Lincoln and Conan O'Brien action figures.
30: j u s t a l i t t l e t u r b u l e n c e
-----
Pete’s POV
“Sophieeeee,” I whined. “Quit hogging Guitar Hero.”
“Hold up, I’m almost done.”
“That’s what you said before the battle with Tom Merillo.”
“Ugh…Eres muy fastidioso,” she said, simultaneously hitting the whammy bar.
“I’m not annoying. Just observant.”
“Let’s agree to disagree on that one.”
“Hey, there are thousands of people who would beg to differ.”
“Yeah, and a majority of them are preteen girls who want to have your children.”
“You’re just jealous because I’m an international sex symbol.”
“I still think Beckett’s prettier than you.”
“Ouch, Soap. That one hurt.”
“The truth usually does that to an inflated ego,” she said, strumming the last notes of ‘Through the Fire and Flames.’
She smirked as I drew a blank.
When playing the insult game, she was the only person who could match me.
Or in this case, beat me… And oddly enough, I was okay with it.
“Okay, you can play now,” she said, after entering in a new top score.
“Finally,” I said, peeling myself off the couch.
Right as she slipped the guitar over her head, the bus came to a screeching halt, tossing Sophie into me, consequently sending me into the floor.
As Sophie opened her mouth to apologize, our eyes locked onto one another’s. You could have cut the tension with a knife… or a fork… maybe even a plastic spoon.
Inhale…
Her face was unreadable. I can only guess what mine looked like.
Exhale…
While I was trying to remember to how to breathe, Sophie leaned down and pressed her lips onto mine.
The cold metal of her lip ring and the warmth of her mouth were too much for my brain to handle. The fact that it was Sophie of all people didn’t make matters any simpler. I wasn’t sure if I should inhale, move my lips, or somehow do both at once.
“Shit, is everyone okay?” we heard Dirty call from the front of the bus.
I quickly pulled away from the kiss, catching her off guard.
“I think we’re at the venue,” I lamely said. She got up and I made my best effort to avoid eye contact as I picked myself off the floor.
“You guys alright?” Patrick asked, walking into the room. “I heard something fall.”
“Um, yeah,” she said, picking up the controller. “Kind of tripped when we stopped, but there’s no damage done.”
She set the plastic guitar onto the couch, then turned the console off.
Not wanting to make an even bigger fool of myself, I grabbed my bass and practically ran off the bus.
-----
Soap’s POV
“What’s up with him?” Patrick asked as Pete blew past us with his bass.
“I have no idea…” I said, truthfully.
“Hey, is it just me, or did Pete just leave the bus without Hemmy?” Andy asked.
The English bulldog heard his name and stepped out from behind the door. Noticing that Pete was gone, looked up at me with expectant eyes.
“Aww, don’t worry boy. We didn’t forget about you.”
He walked over and I gave him a reassuring pet on the head.
“Did I miss something?” Joe asked. I shrugged off the question and we continued inside the venue. It was clear that Pete wanted some space, so I gave Trick control of Hemmy’s leash and branched off in my own direction.
-----
Hemmy's POV
"What do you think happened on the bus?" Patrick asked as Dirty took his turn bowling.
"No clue. I haven't seen him run off the bus like that since Joe chased him down with a paintball gun."
'Sophie fell on top of Pete. She kissed him. He freaked,' I thought to myself.
Being a dog, I don't know much about romance other than what I see firsthand or on television. Still, it was obvious that running away isn't the usual response when someone kisses you.
With neither of them in sight, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen next.
Knowing Pete, he's probably beating himself up over how he ran away.
But Sophie?
I have no idea how she was taking it.
It was clear that she was disappointed in Pete’s reaction. I could see it in her eyes after he pulled away.
-----
Soap’s POV
Restless, I tried to make myself useful and stopped by the merch tables.
“Need any help?”
“Oh, hey Soap!” Aaron said, setting the a large box onto the floor. “Yes, actually. Could you help me sort through these t-shirts?”
“Sure,” I said, joining him behind the table.
“I think Dirty just tossed everything into one box. Definitely the last time I ask him for a favor.”
“Well, that’s Dirty for ya.”
We each grabbed a handful of shirts and got to work.
Half an hour later, everything was set. One of each shirt, hoody, tote bag and poster were hung up on the wall. 3 neat piles of CDs were stacked in the corner of the table and complimentary stickers were laid out.
“Thanks for the help, Sophie. We finished in record time.” He took a seat in a plastic folding chair while I leaned against the side of the table.
I directed my attention to the floor and noticed that every other tile was green, creating a huge checkerboard pattern.
“Sophie?”
“Hmm?” I lifted my head and was met with concerned eyes.
“…Not to pry or anything, but you seem kind of distant,” he noted. “Is there something on your mind?”
“Kind of…” I said, hopping onto the table’s edge.
“I may not have known you for 20 years, but I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re stressed. What’s up?”
I glanced at my shoes and sighed.
“Boy issues,” I said, moving my feet from side to side.
“Anyone I know?”
“Probably not. He worked at the gas station a few miles back,” I joked. He rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he said, sincerely.
“I do, it’s just…” I paused to find a suitable word to describe the situation. “…Messy.”
“Messy?” he quoted. “I think I know who you’re talking about. 5’8”. Tight jeans--”
“Eyeliner, unbelievably sarcastic,” I cut in. “…Yeah, that’s him.”
“Since when are you--”
“We’re not…” I trailed off.
“…But you want to be?” he asked, tentatively.
“Yeah… No… Maybe?” I sighed, swinging my feet back and forth. “I don’t know what I want, and it’s apparent that he doesn’t either.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I kissed him. He freaked out and ran off the bus.”
“Always the drama king, isn’t he?”
“Pretty much…”
I felt like DW in that one episode of Arthur. The one where she wants James to kiss her. “ I just had to pick the one boy in class who won’t kiss me!”
“You know what I think?”
“What?” I asked, looking up at him curiously.
“You should go talk things out with him.”
“Shouldn’t I give him some space?” I asked. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”
“That’s bull. The more you ignore it, the more you’ll both overanalyze things. That in turn, would make things a whole lot more complicated because you’ll end up interpreting each other’s blinking patterns.”
I playfully punched his shoulder, but I knew he was right.
“It’s kind of hard to talk to him when he’s avoiding me like the plague.”
“Well, he can’t hide forever,” Aaron noted. “He’s Pete-motherfucking-Wentz.” I smiled.
“Thanks, for the advice Aaron.” I hopped off the side of the table and wrapped him in a hug.
“No problem,” he said, returning the embrace.
Pulling away, he gave me a reassuring smile. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
As Panic’s set rolled on, I wandered around the building in search of an overdramatic boy. He wasn’t watching the show from the side of the stage. He wasn’t in their dressing room playing on the Wii with Andy and Dirty. He wasn’t following Joe as he took pictures. He wasn’t taking part in the Twister tournament with Cobra. He wasn’t passed out on one of the couches. He wasn’t in the bathroom either (there was only a confused janitor who thought I was lost). It seemed like the boy disappeared into thin air.
Half an hour passed, and still no luck.
“Fuck it. I’m hungry,” I said to no one in particular. My feet followed my brain, which followed my stomach, which followed my nose, eventually leading me to the catering room.
Pete and Patrick were on the other side, filling up on cheese and crackers.
I guess they saying’s true: The way to a guy’s heart really is through his stomach.
“Trick, mind if I borrow Pete for a sec?”
“Be my guest,” he said. “I have to catch up with Andy and Dirty for the Guitar Hero tournament anyways.” Trick gave him a pat on the shoulder as he stood up. “Talk to you later, Pete.” He silently nodded in response.
Upon making his exit, Patrick unknowingly left a trail of tumbleweeds behind.
“…About earlier--”
“We can both forget about it,” he said, cutting me off.
“Pete…”
He still had his eyes fixated on his sneakers, acting like they’d provide him with some sort of escape plan. I took a seat next to him and placed my hand on his chin, tilting it up so he’d have to look at me.
“Sophie, I can’t…” he said, turning away.
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Why?” I asked, somewhat frustrated. “It’s obvious that there’s something between us.”
“We’d be kidding ourselves if we tried to make it work,” he said. “I’m a mess and you're a disaster. We’re both liars…”
“But you run. You'll always be running. I say we stay and fight.” I said, completing the quote from Mr. & Mrs. Smith.
He looked up at me, surprised that I caught his reference.
“Why are you being so stubborn with this?” I asked.
“I could ask you the same question,” he quipped. “It was a mistake… Just drop it, Sophie.”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘No’? This isn’t a debatable issue.”
“That’s what you think.”
He sighed. “You’re a lighter and I’m a batch of M-80s. Together we’d only end in some sort of tragedy…”
“First of all, if either of us were dangerous fireworks, it would be me. And second, since when is Pete Wentz scared of explosives?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Sophie,” he said, directing his gaze toward the his hands.
“Then don’t.”
I cupped the side of his face and pressed my lips against his. He was reluctant at first, but quickly returned the sentiment. As I massaged the back of his neck, he gently sucked on my lip ring, sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.
Sometime between the bus incident and now, he became /a lot/ better at kissing.
“I was right about one thing,” Pete said, slowly pulling away.
“And what would that be?” I asked. He chuckled before responding.
“There were definite fireworks just now.”
-----
The first and second times they kissed, it was all for show.
The third time, Pete was a drama queen.
The fourth and fifth times were the charm.
It's true. After forever and a day, they're finally getting together.
Celebrate this momentous occasion by RATING, REVIEWING and or AIMing me @ Disast3rous.
You know you wanna.
;)
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