Crushcrushcrush… (Pete/Patrick)


[This is slash. Don't like it? Then don't read. Thank you.]



A year after. Back in LA. Recording Folie à Deux.


Pete

They say relationships aren't perfect. And it's true. But I never thought Patrick could get so angry with me for something really stupid. It wasn't a big deal… was it?


*


Things were okay, almost perfect. And sometimes, that's all I ask these days, just some alone time with Patrick.

"Hey, um, The Cobras wanted to throw a little bash tomorrow night. You think we could go? I mean, we're recording and all, but could we spend one night off?" Patrick asked, and I don't know how but he just looked completely adorable doing that. How could I say no?

"Yeah, of course."

Patrick beamed and kissed me full on the lips. "Great. I'll go call him now and say we'll be there." He stood up and went over the vanity, taking his phone from the table.

"Would Joe and Andy be there too?" I automatically ask. I just can't imagine life without them too.

Patrick stopped dialing and looked at me, a little unsure. "Oh, uh, Gabe didn't say." He smiled, albeit sadly.

"I'll tell the guys then." I nodded with a smile, already calling them.

Trick nodded, looking away.


*


I couldn't remember much. It was a blur of alcohol, purple and lights. There's a sea of moving bodies, but I'm thankful that I can see a splash of blonde hair constantly beside me.

I felt an arm wrap around me, holding me tight. "Pete, I don't think you should drink more. Your eyes are dilated already." Patrick whispered, gently leading me to what I presume is a couch. It's long and black so…

I laughed and loosened his hands on me. This is nothing. "Nah. Night is young. And I wanna party till I can't stand anymore."

"That wouldn't take long." He mumbled. And if I could see clearly, I think he's pouting and glaring. Aww, that's so cute!

"Dude, I haven't partied in so long." I reasoned. "Ever since we went out, I had little time to go anywhere else."


And maybe I shouldn't have said that.


"Go on without me then." He left. I bit my tongue, helplessly looking around for him.


*


The next morning, or afternoon, the hangover woke me up. It's terrible… the thumping of your skull, the acids in your empty stomach, the blurriness of your memory.

I couldn't remember much from last night, but I just know it was awesome. I remember singing along with Gabe and his boys. I was terrible, but who cares? I was shit-faced!


"You awake yet?" Patrick whispered in case I was still dreaming. When he saw my body shuffling under the covers, he went inside our bedroom, a careful smile on his beautiful face. "I cooked awhile ago. Just to help the hangover for a bit?"

I smiled, grateful and nodded my head as gently as I possibly could. He smiled back, but something's off. And I don't know what.

"I'll just get them. You go," He looked away, sighing silently, but I heard it. "Go lie down. I'll be back."

I smiled more, tugging the duvet under my chin and rolling in bed for good measure.


*


Joe left earlier and Andy left a little while ago. Wouldn't blame them. We made four tracks today. It'll go with the rest, the ones that still need to be screened, tested and polished.

Patrick still has his headphones on, plucking along the strings of his Gibson, bobbing his head a little. My insides felt like there are seagulls on crack, and I love it. Him playing the guitar never fails to amaze me.


It was an hour later, maybe longer, who knows, when he finished recording his guitar tracks, and turned off his laptop. He smiled tiredly at me, but I know it's the kind of smile that says fulfilled.

"Productive?" I grinned, offering my lap for his seat. He gladly took it and hugged me. "You can say that. I really want this record to make a statement, you know?"

I hummed in agreement, nuzzling his neck. So warm. "Wanna go home?" I could settle for some more cuddling. Maybe even a quickie, but whatever Patrick likes is good for me.

Patrick shifted in my lap, and that quickie is getting tempting by the minute. "I was thinking that we could go out and eat. I saw this place that serves the best food." His eyes glimmered as he stared right at me.


I stayed silent. Public place. People watching. Lenses looming. My heart beating a mile a second.


"Please? Just for today," he whispered, looking down at our joined bodies. My mouth formed into a thin line as the corner of Patrick's lips quivered down. "Never mind. I'm tired anyway."

He kissed the side of my mouth and said goodbye.


*


I tried to make it up to him by planning our date for this weekend. I told him that, but he just smiled. It doesn't reach his cerulean eyes though.

"I promise you. It's gonna be great." I kissed his hand, feeling how cold it is. I frowned a little. But Patrick squeezed my hand back.


When the day finally came I surprised him with breakfast in bed, scrambled eggs, bacon, waffles, his favorite juice, a vase with a sunflower, the works.

Patrick beamed, and I realized how much I've missed it these past couple of weeks. "Good morning, cookie jar." I settled the tray on our nightstand as he yawned sleepily.

I saw the way he smiled, shy and secret, when I remembered one of our many nicknames from way back when.

"What's all this for?" He said, he hugged me first before settling back on his side of the bed. I grinned, proud and happy. "Today's the day of our first official date."

His eyes shone brighter than I have ever seen them, and my heart may have melted a little. "Really?"

I nodded, kissing the top of his head. "Now go eat while I get ready." I laid down the tray with the little table in front of him.

He held my wrist and pursed his lips. "Stay with me." He mumbled, looking at me with pleading eyes. "Things are always better if you're here."

"Tell that to the world." I laughed, shaking my head in amusement, but I went to my side of the bed. I held the fork before his lips and made puppy eyes. "Here comes the train…"

Patrick chuckled, kissing my nose.


*


Things went perfectly, the walk in the park, the little shops we went to, the music stores we checked out, and the movies. It was great.

Patrick sighed when we were walking towards anywhere. "Pete," He whispered, looking across as our feet took us forward. "Did you… Did you plan out where we were going today?"


I nodded with a smile. "Took care of our privacy."


"Can we, maybe have dinner? At this place we passed today." Patrick said, looking around, at anything, anywhere but at me. "Please?"


My heart picked up again. And it's not good this time.


"Just for one night. It doesn't even have to be crowded or anything… Could you do that for me?"

So we found a place, the one that Patrick liked. It was cozy, and the menu looks delicious… but.

"Pete, what'll you have?" He smiled. How can he fucking smile like people aren't looking at us? "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." Was that a flash over there? "I'll have this." I pointed randomly at something as I looked at the girl. She was chewing her gum and is eyeing me curiously. Shit. Is she part of the media?

"Your food would be ready in fifteen."

Patrick nodded with a sweet smile, but my eyes couldn't stay still. My hands felt clammy and my mind raced with thoughts.

When I felt his eyes land back on me, I stared back, a little scared. Patrick tried to say something, but he thought better of it and stopped.

He didn't say anything else for the remaining time that we ate.


*


When we were out of there, I breathed in relief. I made it out alive. It was stuffy and tense, and a date shouldn't be like that, ever.

But my worst nightmare came to life when a boy about the age of our fan base came up to us with an awestruck look. "Dude! You're Pete Wentz! And You!" He beamed at Patrick, his face screaming damn. "Patrick Vaugn Stump. Man, I worship you."

"Thanks."

The boy chuckled, taking our hands and shaking it. "I heard about a new album. Is it really in the works?"

"Everyday." I smiled. This kid's not so bad. He's in it for the music. "We're working really hard on it. Something for everyone."

"Right, of course." He nodded vigorously, staring from me to Patrick with glee. "I also heard some rumors…"

"What rumors?" Patrick said, a little sad. "Is it bad?"

The boy shook his head, smiling bigger. "No, no. It's good. I heard you two are seeing someone, that you two are off the market again. Correct?"

Patrick nodded feebly but I froze. I thought he was in it for the music! "It's not really worth mentioning, you know?"

"What? But people said that you guys have been happy. I mean, I've never seen Patrick perform like that during your last tour." He frowned, and I see the doubt filling his mind.

"Yeah, he's been happy. That doesn't mean anything much. We're just getting better is all."

It took a lot of convincing him he was wrong. It felt like forever of him babbling about how my looks lingered on Patrick a bit longer than before, how Patrick sang better, how Joe and Andy kept grinning whenever I pretend to go and give them Peterick moments or some shit.

In the end, the guy shrugged and said he never mentioned me and Patrick going out with each other. He waved goodbye and bid us luck on the album.

"Can we go home now? I'm tired." Is all Patrick said.


*


I started to grovel when Trick set down his jacket, closing the door quietly behind him. I walked over to him, reaching, "Locket, I-"

"Don't fucking touch me right now!" He yelled, taking a step back from me. He glared and looked away, heading for our bedroom door.

I stared after him. He never screamed at me. He never… It's nothing. Things will go back to the way they were after a few hours. It has to be. It'll pass over. Still.

"Patrick, look, I'm sorry, okay?" I knocked on the door, but there was no reply. "I said I was sorry! There! You know how things are."

I can hear some movement behind the door, but still no voice. Maybe he doesn't know how things are. Maybe it's just...

When I knocked on the door a few more times, it opened, but Patrick went right through it, heading for our front door with a bag on his shoulders. He grabbed his jacket and a set of keys, wiping his cheeks furiously without looking at me.

Fuck, I made him cry.

"Where are you going?" I went after him, panicking. "You can't leave. You said you weren't feeling well."

"Out. And I said I was tired," he spat hotly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anybody." He slammed the door with a bang, not even looking back, and I stopped. His voice is almost gone. I never want to cause that ever again.

Hemy looked after where Patrick was just a blink ago. He's not used to this either.


*


It's been a few days now. He's left his phone, and I don't know where to find him. It wasn't a big deal… I just freaked out. I've never had someone blatantly tell me how in love I am with Patrick right in front of my face.

But I've said some things I never meant. I wish I could take them back, but it never works that way.