Fic: So Why Don't You Slide 1/1 (My Chemical Romance/Fall Out Boy, R, Mikey/Pete)
Title: So Why Don't You Slide
Status: Complete
Fandom: My Chemical Romance/Fall Out Boy
Series: Slideverse
Word Count: roughly 1,300
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in or related to My Chemical Romance or Fall Out Boy. Real people are real and not mine.
Pairing: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Rating: R
Beta and helper thanks: allyndra for the quick beta .
Authors Notes: People are making wishlists this time of year and #1 on onneonlights' list was "pete/mikey fic! ALL THE PETE/MIKEY FIC. ALL OF IT." This isn't all of it, bb, but its the best I could do! I hope you like
Summary: Pete and Mikey a day at one of the many water parks they visited during the Summer of Like.
If he's honest, and Pete always is (at least with himself, if not with everyone else), half the point of going to the water parks is, really, to get Mikey out of his shirt. Fucking guy, all the My Chem guys for that matter, are stubbornly attached to their clothes, which is incredibly stupid to Pete's mind. It's 110 on those hateful parking lots, but no - Mikey and his brother and all the rest of them are layered up like they're expecting a sudden frost or something with those crazy uniforms.
But not at the water parks. It usually only takes one or two slides for Mikey to surrender to common sense and shed whatever slightly-less trendy T he's got on over his swim trunks. And then Pete gets to look at all that skin, in sunlight, all fucking day. It's like wandering around with the first half of a good porn, only you get to go on water slides at the same time.
Half a summer of this, and Mikey's actually starting to get a little tan. That shouldn’t be a big deal, but it makes Pete feel triumphant the same way that the finger-shaped bruises on Mikey's narrow hips and mouth-shaped blotches on his neck and chest do.
It's another way Pete's leaving his mark on Mikey. Only with this, no one knows what they're looking at. They just see him glowing a little brighter than usual. The why is just Pete's and he's a greedy fuck, so he likes having that to himself.
This time, though, they spend half the day running around, drenched and ridiculous, before Mikey finally pulls his shirt off. They're on the lazy river, dragged forward by the artificial current, and Mikey just pulls it off over his head before ducking under. They've abandoned the idea of inner tubes and are being dragged bodily forward, so when Pete forces himself to stop so he can watch, the current pulls Mikey into him, almost knocking them both over.
They cling to each other and only go under for a second. But they come up tangled together, sputtering over chlorinated water and laughing until it's not really funny anymore. Then they're just looking at each other. Mikey's holding him around the neck, and Pete's arms are wrapped around Mikey's waist and back.
It's the heat of the day on a weekday, so the lazy river is fairly empty for the season - most people are at concessions getting lunch or ridiculously large ices, but there are still moms and dads on their day off with their kids, and day camps field trips lingering under the umbrellas on the dry land that the current flows around. So Pete gets why Mikey tries to pull away. He's just not going to let him, is all. Pete wraps his arms tighter around Mikey's waist when he tries. "Stay. We're going to the same place, anyway."
"We're not going anywhere," Mikey feels compelled to point out as they cut through the clear water. "We've been around six times already."
"So we'll keep going nowhere together. I wouldn’t want to go there with anyone else."
"You gonna write that one down?" Mikey asks, squinting at him. His glasses are in their locker back by the entrance, and Pete has to admit that he likes being able to see Mikey's whole face, unobstructed. Little rivers of water slide down the sharp angles of his face from his hair, and Pete wants to lick them away.
He settles for letting go of Mikey’s waist with one arm to trace the flow of rivulet with his fingertip, instead. He follows the path down the side of Mikey’s nose and over his gorgeous fucking mouth. "No. No, that one's just for you."
Mikey gives him that almost smile thing that he does sometimes, when he means something and isn’t trying to force it. "Yeah?"
“Yeah. Some parts of me are just yours, Mikey Way,” Pete blurts out, because his mouth doesn’t ever check with him first before spitting out whatever he’s thinking.
They drift forward in silence for long moments. They slide past a fake shipwreck and the choppy exit to one of the bigger tube slides. There’s a mock waterfall in a little mock-harbor that’s somewhat out of the pull of the tide coming up, and Pete’s a little surprised when Mikey plants his feet on the bottom and pushes them both through it.
The water beats down on his head so hard it hurts for a second, then they’re through, in the relative privacy of the manmade fall. That’s good, too, because Mikey’s kissing the fuck out of him, and he wouldn’t want to scar the kiddies.
No, that’s not true. He doesn’t give a fuck about scarring anyone. He just doesn’t want to get thrown out when Mikey’s kissing him like this, water up to their waists, his back pressed against that weird polyurethane shit that all water park walls seem to be made of. It’s cool and wet in contrast to Mikey’s mouth, which is hot and wet and all fucking over him.
Mikey’s fingers slide slickly over his skin, stopping to trace tattoos from memory, because they’ve been doing this long enough that Mikey’s hands remember where they are. The thought makes Pete’s insides flip over and he pulls Mikey closer.
Their hips grind together, and through the fabric of the trunks, Pete can feel Mikey hard and good and he is more than up for this. Fucking in a water park is one he hasn’t checked off his list yet. But Mikey groans and pulls back, separating their plastered together bodies for a breath before he’s kissing Pete again. Which is better.
“We should go,” Mikey says directly into Pete’s mouth. He can feel and taste the words as much as he can hear them. “Sound check isn’t until eight. We could find a hotel.”
That is a good plan. Fuck that, it’s a great plan. Pete fully endorses that plan. But that plan involves moving, and he’s not ready for that yet. He slides his hands up Mikey’s bare back and pulls him close again. “Stay with me just a little longer, Mikey Way.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Mikey promises, dragging his teeth over Pete’s lip just like Mikey fucking knows he likes it. He bites briefly, then sucks on it soothingly before merging back into a kiss. When they break away to catch their breath, his hands come up to hold Pete’s face. “Not without you.”
Mikey’s looking at him with eyes that are almost too dark in the shade behind the waterfall and for a second, Pete really can’t breathe. The air’s caught in his lungs, and the chlorine’s making his eyes sting. “Me, either,” he says, and fuck if it doesn’t come out sounding more like I love you than he meant it to.
That would matter a lot less if he wasn’t, you know, pretty much in love with him. But he is and now it’s out there. But Mikey is Mikey, and he’s amazing, so he just smiles and says, “I know.”
And maybe, okay, definitely Pete’s a freak, but Jesus Fuck, really, hearing that actually does feel as awesome as it looked in Empire Strikes Back. And then Mikey’s thumbs are stroking rhythmically over his cheekbones and Pete needs to be kissing him again. So he does, spinning them so that he’s got Mikey pressed into the wall this time.
Mikey chuckles into his mouth, and Pete thinks that the shirtless thing? That’s way less than half the reason why he keeps dragging Mikey to water parks. Mostly, it’s just ‘cause it’s a chance to be alone like this with Mikey fucking Way, even if they are surrounded by people.
The slides and the tan are just a really fucking amazing bonus.
Status: Complete
Fandom: My Chemical Romance/Fall Out Boy
Series: Slideverse
Word Count: roughly 1,300
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in or related to My Chemical Romance or Fall Out Boy. Real people are real and not mine.
Pairing: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Rating: R
Beta and helper thanks: allyndra for the quick beta .
Authors Notes: People are making wishlists this time of year and #1 on onneonlights' list was "pete/mikey fic! ALL THE PETE/MIKEY FIC. ALL OF IT." This isn't all of it, bb, but its the best I could do! I hope you like
Summary: Pete and Mikey a day at one of the many water parks they visited during the Summer of Like.
If he's honest, and Pete always is (at least with himself, if not with everyone else), half the point of going to the water parks is, really, to get Mikey out of his shirt. Fucking guy, all the My Chem guys for that matter, are stubbornly attached to their clothes, which is incredibly stupid to Pete's mind. It's 110 on those hateful parking lots, but no - Mikey and his brother and all the rest of them are layered up like they're expecting a sudden frost or something with those crazy uniforms.
But not at the water parks. It usually only takes one or two slides for Mikey to surrender to common sense and shed whatever slightly-less trendy T he's got on over his swim trunks. And then Pete gets to look at all that skin, in sunlight, all fucking day. It's like wandering around with the first half of a good porn, only you get to go on water slides at the same time.
Half a summer of this, and Mikey's actually starting to get a little tan. That shouldn’t be a big deal, but it makes Pete feel triumphant the same way that the finger-shaped bruises on Mikey's narrow hips and mouth-shaped blotches on his neck and chest do.
It's another way Pete's leaving his mark on Mikey. Only with this, no one knows what they're looking at. They just see him glowing a little brighter than usual. The why is just Pete's and he's a greedy fuck, so he likes having that to himself.
This time, though, they spend half the day running around, drenched and ridiculous, before Mikey finally pulls his shirt off. They're on the lazy river, dragged forward by the artificial current, and Mikey just pulls it off over his head before ducking under. They've abandoned the idea of inner tubes and are being dragged bodily forward, so when Pete forces himself to stop so he can watch, the current pulls Mikey into him, almost knocking them both over.
They cling to each other and only go under for a second. But they come up tangled together, sputtering over chlorinated water and laughing until it's not really funny anymore. Then they're just looking at each other. Mikey's holding him around the neck, and Pete's arms are wrapped around Mikey's waist and back.
It's the heat of the day on a weekday, so the lazy river is fairly empty for the season - most people are at concessions getting lunch or ridiculously large ices, but there are still moms and dads on their day off with their kids, and day camps field trips lingering under the umbrellas on the dry land that the current flows around. So Pete gets why Mikey tries to pull away. He's just not going to let him, is all. Pete wraps his arms tighter around Mikey's waist when he tries. "Stay. We're going to the same place, anyway."
"We're not going anywhere," Mikey feels compelled to point out as they cut through the clear water. "We've been around six times already."
"So we'll keep going nowhere together. I wouldn’t want to go there with anyone else."
"You gonna write that one down?" Mikey asks, squinting at him. His glasses are in their locker back by the entrance, and Pete has to admit that he likes being able to see Mikey's whole face, unobstructed. Little rivers of water slide down the sharp angles of his face from his hair, and Pete wants to lick them away.
He settles for letting go of Mikey’s waist with one arm to trace the flow of rivulet with his fingertip, instead. He follows the path down the side of Mikey’s nose and over his gorgeous fucking mouth. "No. No, that one's just for you."
Mikey gives him that almost smile thing that he does sometimes, when he means something and isn’t trying to force it. "Yeah?"
“Yeah. Some parts of me are just yours, Mikey Way,” Pete blurts out, because his mouth doesn’t ever check with him first before spitting out whatever he’s thinking.
They drift forward in silence for long moments. They slide past a fake shipwreck and the choppy exit to one of the bigger tube slides. There’s a mock waterfall in a little mock-harbor that’s somewhat out of the pull of the tide coming up, and Pete’s a little surprised when Mikey plants his feet on the bottom and pushes them both through it.
The water beats down on his head so hard it hurts for a second, then they’re through, in the relative privacy of the manmade fall. That’s good, too, because Mikey’s kissing the fuck out of him, and he wouldn’t want to scar the kiddies.
No, that’s not true. He doesn’t give a fuck about scarring anyone. He just doesn’t want to get thrown out when Mikey’s kissing him like this, water up to their waists, his back pressed against that weird polyurethane shit that all water park walls seem to be made of. It’s cool and wet in contrast to Mikey’s mouth, which is hot and wet and all fucking over him.
Mikey’s fingers slide slickly over his skin, stopping to trace tattoos from memory, because they’ve been doing this long enough that Mikey’s hands remember where they are. The thought makes Pete’s insides flip over and he pulls Mikey closer.
Their hips grind together, and through the fabric of the trunks, Pete can feel Mikey hard and good and he is more than up for this. Fucking in a water park is one he hasn’t checked off his list yet. But Mikey groans and pulls back, separating their plastered together bodies for a breath before he’s kissing Pete again. Which is better.
“We should go,” Mikey says directly into Pete’s mouth. He can feel and taste the words as much as he can hear them. “Sound check isn’t until eight. We could find a hotel.”
That is a good plan. Fuck that, it’s a great plan. Pete fully endorses that plan. But that plan involves moving, and he’s not ready for that yet. He slides his hands up Mikey’s bare back and pulls him close again. “Stay with me just a little longer, Mikey Way.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Mikey promises, dragging his teeth over Pete’s lip just like Mikey fucking knows he likes it. He bites briefly, then sucks on it soothingly before merging back into a kiss. When they break away to catch their breath, his hands come up to hold Pete’s face. “Not without you.”
Mikey’s looking at him with eyes that are almost too dark in the shade behind the waterfall and for a second, Pete really can’t breathe. The air’s caught in his lungs, and the chlorine’s making his eyes sting. “Me, either,” he says, and fuck if it doesn’t come out sounding more like I love you than he meant it to.
That would matter a lot less if he wasn’t, you know, pretty much in love with him. But he is and now it’s out there. But Mikey is Mikey, and he’s amazing, so he just smiles and says, “I know.”
And maybe, okay, definitely Pete’s a freak, but Jesus Fuck, really, hearing that actually does feel as awesome as it looked in Empire Strikes Back. And then Mikey’s thumbs are stroking rhythmically over his cheekbones and Pete needs to be kissing him again. So he does, spinning them so that he’s got Mikey pressed into the wall this time.
Mikey chuckles into his mouth, and Pete thinks that the shirtless thing? That’s way less than half the reason why he keeps dragging Mikey to water parks. Mostly, it’s just ‘cause it’s a chance to be alone like this with Mikey fucking Way, even if they are surrounded by people.
The slides and the tan are just a really fucking amazing bonus.