In Secret Places (Part II)
Part I
VI.
Things between Pete and Patrick are strained for the next few days, and just as they seem to be falling back into their groove of easy friendship, Pete does something stupid.
Patrick remembers Samantha every once in a while, and thinks triumphantly that Pete got rid of her. He hasn’t seen her since last week, as far as Patrick knows, and he hasn’t even been on the phone with anyone lately. But on the following Friday night, when Patrick’s parents are out to dinner, Patrick ventures into the basement to ask Pete if he wants to go get some pizza. It’s around eight o’clock, but Patrick heard Pete coming in through the downstairs entrance about a half hour ago, so he figures he’d be down there.
When Patrick opens the door and starts down the stairs, he hears a breathy gasp, and before his brain can process what might be the cause of it, he’s halfway down and oh God, there’s a naked girl and Pete’s between her legs and oh, oh.
Patrick’s frozen on the spot, even when he sees the expression on Samantha’s face turn from pleasure to confusion to shock to embarrassment. Apparently, Pete can feel the sudden tenseness in the air, because he lifts his head up and turns around, and oh God, this is so humiliating. Before Pete can say anything, Patrick unfreezes and bolts back up the stairs, slamming the door behind him.
By the time he gets back to his room, Patrick has about a dozen different emotions bubbling up in his stomach. He recognizes one of them as embarrassment because yeah, he just walked in on his best friend going down on a girl. And he can’t deny the anger either, because Pete just took it upon himself to invite his girlfriend over to Patrick’s house and have sex with her in his basement, in his mom’s basement. But perhaps most disturbing to Patrick is the jealousy, practically eating away at his insides. Patrick isn’t willing to consider the fact that he might have feelings for Pete; that’s just out of the question. Pete is an asshole, and Patrick may make friends with assholes, but he definitely doesn’t fall in love with them.
Barely a minute later, before Patrick can finish sorting out his thoughts, Pete bursts through his bedroom door, looking terribly guilty. “I’m-”
“Don’t say it!” Patrick snaps, glaring at him.
“But I am!” Pete cries. “I’m so, so sorry, Patrick. I shouldn’tve brought her-”
“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. So just save it, Pete, and get out of here.”
Pete’s eyes are wide and apologetic. “But-”
Patrick takes two steps forward and punches him in the face.
He doesn’t even think about what he’s doing; he doesn’t remember that Pete apparently can’t feel any pain. It’s just what his gut tells him to do, so he does it.
And Pete instantly springs a nosebleed.
He opens his mouth and cries out in pain, bending over and grabbing at his nose with both hands. “Ow! Fuck!”
Patrick stares down at his fist in shock and disbelief, wondering why he was able to hurt Pete and guys twice his size weren’t, when Pete himself wasn’t. He feels a pang of remorse, but it’s greatly lessened by his anger.
After watching Pete curse and bleed for a few seconds, Patrick comes to his senses and sighs. “Come here, Pete.” He grabs Pete’s arm and drags him downstairs to the kitchen, where he hands him a wad of paper towels to clean himself up.
“Ow, ow, ow,” Pete says as he tentatively blots at his nose.
“Um, I’m sorry?” Patrick says, unsure if he’s morally obligated to apologize.
Pete winces. “Don’t be, man. I kind of deserved it. But what the fuck, why did that hurt?”
Patrick shrugs one shoulder. “I dunno, maybe I cured you.”
Pete’s washing his hands now; apparently his nose stopped bleeding, although by looking at his face, Patrick thinks it hasn’t stopped hurting. Pete turns off the tap and wipes his hands on his jeans. “One way to find out, eh?” He walks over to where he knows Patrick’s mom keeps the silverware, and opens the drawer.
“Oh no, I won’t let you commit suicide with my mom’s cutlery,” Patrick says, trying to swipe the knife Pete’s holding.
“Chill, dude. I’m only gonna make a little cut.” Pete presses the blade to his arm, and then lets go when he sees blood. He groans when he sees the blood disappear, and his skin mend itself.
“I guess not,” Patrick says, taking the knife and putting it in the sink even though the blood’s gone from it already. Pete touches his nose and winces again, looking perplexed.
They’re quiet for a while, and Pete looks at Patrick out of the corner of his eye. “You still mad at me?”
Patrick looks back. “Yes. But less, now that I’ve given you a nosebleed.”
Pete smiles crookedly, his lips pressed together. “I really am sorry, you know. I was gonna break up with her, but then…”
“I don’t want to know,” Patrick says curtly.
“Fair enough,” Pete says, holding his hands up in surrender.
They go into the living room and sit on the couch together, and Patrick turns on the TV. They sit there for a while, and Pete leans his head on Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick wants to push him off, but he thinks that doing so would be making too big of a deal out of everything, so he lets him stay there, even though the contact is making something in Patrick’s belly ache. But when Pete sits up and leans in to kiss Patrick, Patrick ducks out of the way, because that’s just pushing it.
Pete looks hurt for a moment, but he gets over it and lets his head fall back to Patrick’s shoulder. Pete starts to doze at around ten, and Patrick soon follows; when Patrick’s mom and dad come home at eleven, his mom shuts the TV off and his dad drapes a blanket over them. Patrick wakes up at two AM with Pete’s head still on his shoulder, and a heavy bittersweet feeling in his heart.
VII.
Things pick up again quickly once they’re back on the road; they hit a lot of the same venues, and Pete point-blank refuses to cool it with the showing off. Patrick knows he dumped Samantha the day after Patrick caught them having sex, but there are plenty of other Samanthas at other shows around the country, and Pete makes a point of finding (and sleeping with) several of them. Pete disappears for long stretches of time, and normally, Patrick wouldn’t mind too much. This is who Pete is, and what he does, and Patrick entered into their friendship already knowing this. But Patrick knows that it wasn’t Pete who changed; it was Patrick himself. He’s finding it hard to ignore his newfound feelings for Pete, and remembers the kiss they shared far too often, and with far too much fondness.
On top of all this, more and more people are picking fights with Pete. It seems to have become a challenge of sorts; everybody wants to be the one who makes Pete Wentz stay down. So far, Patrick has been the only one to administer a successful punch, but the public is determined. Pete doesn’t mind; it just gives him more opportunities to show off in front of the girls he wants to impress.
Patrick is used to Pete going off with girls, so he doesn’t expect anything else; he isn’t prepared for it, either. They’re in New York, and all through their set, Patrick can’t help but notice this attractive guy lingering right by the front of the stage, making eyes at Pete the entire time. He has straight black hair, and he’s wearing too much eyeliner, and tight pants, and a lip ring, and Patrick thinks he’s a typical scene kid. During “Calm Before the Storm,” Patrick turns to Pete to see if he’s noticed the guy; quite clearly, he has. Pete’s looking right at him, his eyes half-lidded, and wow, Patrick’s never seen Pete look at anybody like that before. Patrick manages to convince himself that Pete’s just leading the guy on, because he’s never seen Pete do anything serious with a guy before. But after their set, Pete dodges punches and ignores jeers, and makes his way straight towards the guy, the suave smile firmly in place on his face. Patrick can’t help but watch from across the room; he knows all of Pete’s moves, so he recognizes them even from a great distance. He leans in, he whispers in the guy’s ear, and the guy laughs and mutters something in response. Patrick’s jealousy returns tenfold, and it increases even further when he sees Pete take the guy’s hand and lead him towards the bathrooms. Patrick slams his glass of water back on the bar and mutters something about going outside to Joe, who’s caught up in a conversation with a pretty blonde girl.
Patrick’s first breath of fresh air after leaving the bar feels like the best he’s ever taken; his lungs were straining from the combination of the smoke and the anxiety, and he really needed some alone time. The van is parked next to a chain-link fence, and he sits down on one side of it so his back is facing the bar, feeling the twists and turns of the metal digging into his shirt. He tucks his knees up to his chest and rests his hand on the concrete on either side of him, and just breathes. He doesn’t know how much more of Pete Wentz he can stand, because when he saw him lead that random boy towards the bathroom, he could almost feel his heart break. Patrick never knew that Pete was into guys, and the fact that they’re an actual possibility makes the fact that it’ll never happen that much more painful. Patrick sighs to himself and laments the fact that he doesn’t smoke, because this would be an excellent time for a cigarette.
He sits there for almost an hour; from his spot on the ground, he can hear the distant music coming from the bar, and he lets his mind drift to the people inside, and the fact that they’re most likely having a lot more fun than he is. Patrick won’t admit to being good at many things, but he knows that self-pity is one thing he can beat the masses at.
But after a while, he hears the scrape of shoes on concrete approaching him, then the pressure of someone else’s back leaning against his own on the other side of the fence. Patrick doesn’t have to turn around; he knows who it is.
“What’re you doing out here?” he asks.
“Looking for you,” says Pete.
“What about that guy?”
“He had somewhere to be. And so did I.”
Patrick presses his lips together tightly. He really hates Pete sometimes, even if he means well.
“Listen,” Pete says quietly, “I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I hope you’d tell me if it was me.”
Patrick’s quiet for a while. “It’s not you, Pete.” It’s a lie, but Patrick doesn’t know what else to say.
“Well that’s good,” Pete says, but he doesn’t sound as if he completely believes Patrick.
Patrick can feel Pete shifting behind him, and he knows that Pete wants him to turn around, so he does. Patrick hooks his fingers through the gaps in the fence, and sees Pete, only partially obstructed by the metal. “I just wanted to say,” Pete starts, threading his fingers with Patrick’s, the fence separating their palms, “that you always come first. And I never want anything to fuck us up, ever.” Pete squeezes Patrick’s fingers slightly, and Patrick knows that if Pete were to lean in for a kiss right then, he would not duck out of the way.
Patrick smiles.
VIII.
The next day, things go really, undeniably, painfully wrong.
They’re in Jersey for a show, and the venue is among the filthiest Patrick has ever seen. The backstage area is waterlogged and dirt-caked, and Patrick gets a generally foreboding feeling just being there. He’s been noticing more and more people showing up who didn’t appear to be there for the music over the past few days, and when he gets his first glimpse of the audience, he knows that a lot of these people are waiting for their opportunity to attempt to beat the crap out of Pete.
Ironically, Pete doesn’t do anything too showy on stage. Perhaps it’s because he senses Patrick’s unease about the whole ordeal, or perhaps the novelty is just wearing off (finally, Patrick thinks). Either way, he sticks to the plan, performing but not exactly showing off.
It’s a good show; the crowd gets into it, and Patrick feels a satisfying sense of unity with the band and the audience. Pete even goes up to him and kisses his neck while they’re playing, something he hasn’t done in a while, and Patrick has to fight against a blush.
But when they leave the stage, all hell breaks loose. Apparently, the people have been misinformed; instead of going for Pete when the band walks into the crowd, a good number of them go for Patrick. Patrick knows that a lot of times, people get him and Pete confused, since Pete’s the one who is really the face of the band, and usually that position is filled by the singer. However, this mix-up has never proved to be dangerous.
Patrick first notices something is off when a large bearded man takes a swing at him. Patrick yelps and ducks, but not before another guy punches his stomach swiftly. Patrick feels pain and fear erupt all at once, and he doubles over, clutching his stomach. Then another guy punches his face, and before he blacks out, he can see Pete over the guy’s shoulder, looking utterly horrified.
[//]
Patrick’s really only out for a minute or so, but it feels like a lot longer. When he opens his eyes, he sees a whole circle of people crowded around him. His attackers aren’t there (apparently they fled when they realized what happened), but he sees Andy and Joe and Pete, and some of the kids who were watching their set. Everyone is frowning at him, and they all jump in surprise when he moves.
“Are you okay?” Pete is the first one to speak. He also looks the most worried, and Patrick gets a small amount of satisfaction from this.
“I was just punched in the face by a guy twice my size,” Patrick mumbles, reaching up to touch his cheek, which would surely be bruised. “I don’t think I can honestly say I’m okay.”
Joe and Andy wince.
“This is your fault, you know,” Patrick says bitterly, looking right at Pete. Pete looks horribly guilty, and Patrick thinks it just serves him right.
“Yeah. Well, it’s not entirely-”
Patrick punches him in the face.
Pete yelps.
The crowd gasps.
“Hey! That hurt!”
“It so was entirely your fault, Peter,” Patrick says, his teeth clenched.
“You just-“
“And I’ll do it again,” Patrick promises him. “If you don’t shut the fuck up.”
[//]
Patrick won’t even look at Pete until the swelling in his cheek goes down. It does help, however, that Pete’s face is looking equally abused, and the knowledge that Patrick was the reason behind this makes it even better. But Patrick can feel the guilt radiating off Pete in waves, and Patrick knows that whatever joy he was still getting out of being a quasi-superhero was gone. Pete starts stopping at comic book shops, picking up volume after volume of that one series with the girl who had the same problem, presumably trying to figure out an answer to his predicament. But as he reads on, Patrick notices that Pete just gets more depressed.
After Patrick punched Pete in the face the second time, Pete made a call to his mother. She still didn’t remember him, and Pete had hung up the phone very dejectedly, and Patrick had smirked to himself, thinking that Pete was definitely getting what he deserved.
But after Patrick heals and he decides to forgive Pete, neither of them knows what to do. They sit in the back of the van when Joe’s driving and Andy’s sleeping, and they brainstorm.
“Maybe you should punch me again,” Pete says, exasperation coloring his tone. “They say the third time’s the charm.”
Patrick shakes his head. “I don’t think that’d work, Pete.”
Pete groans and throws an arm over his face. “I guess we just have to wait then. Hopefully I’ll get to talk to my mom again before she dies.”
“Stop being so dramatic,” Patrick chides.
Over the next couple weeks, Pete becomes very quiet. He stops being obnoxious and he stops showing off on stage, and really, his friends are finding it disconcerting. But that’s not the end of his odd behavior, either; he’s spending a lot more time just following Patrick around, and Patrick becomes accustomed to having Pete stare at him. Not to say he doesn’t find it unnerving-he definitely does, but he knows that Pete’s a strange person, and comes to accept this new behavior.
One day, Patrick asks him about it. Pete looks startled for a moment, as if he didn’t realize Patrick had noticed, but quickly shakes it off. “Well, you’re the only one who I’m still normal to,” Pete explains quietly. “If you get mad at me, you can actually hurt me. Nobody else can do that.”
“Wouldn’t that be a reason to stay away from me?” Patrick says, frowning.
“I could never want to stay away from you, ‘Trick. You know that.” Pete touches Patrick’s cheek, and Patrick flinches. Patrick’s finding it harder to forget about Pete and the unspoken possibilities. Pete kisses him again, and Patrick wants to scream a dozen different questions right in his face, but instead he kisses back, and cries about it later when it’s dark in the van and everyone else is asleep. He’s silent, and he only moves his hands from the steering wheel to wipe the tears off his cheeks, and he only moves his eyes from the road to glance at himself in the rear view mirror. He feels a jolt in his chest when he sits back in his seat and sees Pete’s eyes gleaming at him in the dark. But Pete doesn’t say anything, and neither does Patrick, and everything seems fine.
IX.
They’re playing two shows in a row at the same venue, so they decide to stay at a hotel. There’s no question of who’s rooming with whom, because everyone knows Pete won’t let Patrick out of his sight, and really, Patrick wishes he would for once. The stolen kisses are quickly becoming too much for him, and Patrick can’t even find it within himself to talk to Pete about them, or ask him if they mean anything. Patrick is inclined to think that they don’t, since Pete never says anything about them. Like most other things he does, they’re just impulses, and he always follows through because that’s who he is.
But that night, when Patrick’s in one of the double beds trying to fall asleep, he feels the mattress dip behind him and he knows that Pete’s climbing into bed with him. Pete knows he isn’t asleep or he wouldn’t be doing what he’s doing, and Patrick clenches his eyes shut tightly, thinking that perhaps if he wishes hard enough, Pete will go away. But he doesn’t; instead he squirms under the covers and gets himself against Patrick’s back, pressing his face to Patrick’s neck and breathing softly. Pete’s arms are strong, and his chest is rigid, and his body is warm, and Patrick is an eighteen-year-old boy, so he isn’t very surprised when he feels himself getting hard. He’s glad Pete isn’t in front of him, because at least where he is now, there’s a chance he won’t notice.
“Why won’t it stop?” Pete whispers in Patrick’s ear, and Patrick shivers.
“I don’t know, Pete.” He swallows. “Didn’t you used to like the idea of living forever?”
Pete shifts, holding Patrick more tightly. “Forever won’t be any fun if you’re not there, ‘Trick.”
Patrick’s heart starts thumping, and there’s no way Pete can’t feel that. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” Patrick doesn’t even know what he’s saying, because Pete’s turning him over, and leaning close, and then they’re kissing, and Pete’s hands are wandering, and Patrick wants to laugh and cry and scream all at the same time. But he doesn’t stop Pete, because he does want this, but the entire time he’s thinking that Pete doesn’t mean any of this, and that he’s just playing, and Patrick’s going to be ditched like that guy from the bar in New York.
And Pete only makes the tiniest sound when he comes, but Patrick thinks it’s the loveliest thing he’s heard in a while, and when they lie there to catch their breath, Pete draws circles across Patrick’s chest with his fingers and presses soft kisses to his jaw.
“However long forever is for me,” Pete whispers, his mouth less than an inch away from Patrick’s ear, “I want to spend it with you, okay?”
Patrick knows that tone of voice, and he wants to fall for what Pete’s saying, and he wants to fall for Pete, but he just can’t believe him. And Patrick knows that he could easily sit up and punch Pete right in the jaw, or kick him in the balls, and it would hurt and Pete would yell and curse, but Patrick doesn’t use this power against him. Instead, he lets Pete whisper his candy-coated lies, and falls asleep to the duet of their hearts beating.
[//]
Patrick wakes up in the middle of the night to the feeling of something sharp poking him in the ribs, and when he opens his eyes, he sees that it’s Pete’s elbow. Pete is sleeping violently, twisting and turning and moving his limbs recklessly, and Patrick furrows his brow. He remembers what happened that night, before they fell asleep, and wonders if Pete’s having nightmares about him.
But Pete looks more troubled than that; his face is scrunched up and his eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth is open, and he’s taking great, heaving gasps. Patrick touches his arm gently, and Pete jerks awake.
“What happened?” he gasps, flipping over and turning towards Patrick, his dark eyes wild in the lightless room.
“Shh, go back to sleep,” Patrick whispers. Pete’s face relaxes when he sees Patrick, and he crawls closer so he can kiss his jaw gently. Patrick sighs to himself and lets Pete pull him close so they fall asleep with their limbs entwined.
[//]
The sex doesn’t stop there. It continues, in the back of the van when Andy and Joe are sleeping, in bathroom stalls at rest stops, behind the bars they play in before or after their set, sometimes both. Patrick tries not to feel hopeful when he realizes that Pete’s stopped having one night stands with random kids, because he’s sure it doesn’t really mean anything. He’s also sure that Pete’s using him as a distraction from his predicament, because Patrick remains the only person against whom Pete has no miraculous defense. Pete spends a lot of his time with his head resting on Patrick’s shoulder, sitting at bars and staring at candles, occasionally holding his hand in the fire and watching as nothing happens. Patrick always swats his hand out of the way whenever he notices, because regardless of superhuman powers of defense, Patrick doesn’t want to watch Pete roast his hand.
“Cool it, Superman,” Patrick says, holding Pete’s hand after he takes it out of the fire. It’s hotter than usual, but other than that, it looks and feels fine.
Pete smiles and nuzzles Patrick’s neck. “If I’m Superman, you’re my kryptonite.”
Patrick blushes, but doesn’t let on. “Such a charmer. If you’re Superman, I’d suggest you catch the next spaceship back to planet Krypton.”
“Wouldn’t leave you behind, ‘Trick.” Something in Patrick’s chest aches and he recognizes it as longing. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly and lets Pete kiss him.
[//]
Patrick is surprised when Pete asks him to go exclusive a month later.
“I just figured, I don’t want anybody else right now, and I don’t think you do either, so why not?” he says hopefully, and Patrick stares at him like he grew a second head.
“You want me to be your boyfriend?” Patrick says incredulously. Pete nods. “No, Pete. No. This is ridiculous. There are so many reasons why this won’t work. Can’t work.”
Pete looks angry. “Yeah? Name a few.”
Patrick sighs. “I don’t know. The band. The fact that you’re my best friend. Plus, you have relationship ADD, and I don’t want to be a victim of your boredom.”
Pete’s face crumples. “Is that what you think?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Patrick crosses his arms, and really, when Pete looks at him like that, he has some trouble remembering what the reasons were.
Pete sighs. “Fine. But… think about it okay? And like, let me know if you change your mind or whatever.”
Pete kisses him and walks away, and Joe appears out of nowhere and shakes his head at Patrick. “Real smooth, Stumpy,” he says, impervious to Patrick’s death glare.
“Would you date Pete?” Patrick snaps.
Joe frowns, and for a minute Patrick thinks he might say yes. “No. But I wouldn’t screw him either, and you obviously feel different there.”
Patrick’s jaw drops, because he was under the delusion that Andy and Joe hadn’t noticed. Sure, they saw Pete kissing him, but Pete kisses everyone.
“You…?”
“Oh, please,” Joe snorts. “You’re so obvious about it.” He walks away, and Patrick sits down to obsess over what just happened. He still thinks Pete’s just in it for the sex (and Patrick can’t blame him, because he knows that he gives fantastic blowjobs), but he can’t help but wonder if that’s really such a bad thing. They’re pretty much exclusive already, seeing as neither of them is seeing anybody else, but Patrick just never expected them to last for very long. When he realizes it had been a month since the first time in the hotel, he feels lightheaded, especially because nothing disastrous has happened, and Patrick hasn’t had to vacuum his heart off the floor yet. But Pete is Pete, and anything involving him can’t possibly end well, and as irritating and asshole-ish he is, Patrick likes having him in his life. Even if it’s as “just friends,” or friends with benefits.
X.
The thing is, Pete hasn’t been looking so great lately.
Patrick realizes this somewhere between Utah and New Mexico (he’s not really sure), when they’re making out in a bathroom stall and the florescent lights hit Pete at this weird angle, and all of a sudden, Patrick notices that his eyes are sagging behind the makeup, and his skin looks kind of pasty, and hey, his hands are a little cold on Patrick’s skin.
Pete breaks away for a moment and rests his chin on Patrick’s shoulder, and begins fitting their hips together, and Patrick’s really hard but he can’t concentrate fully on the sex because of the unwelcome thoughts slowly filtering into his head, so he gently pushes Pete away and takes his face in his hands.
“What is it?” Pete mutters, brushing Patrick’s hands off and moving in for another kiss. Patrick stops him and peers at him with concern.
“Are you feeling alright?”
Pete looks bemused. “Your timing is unbelievable, ‘Trick,” he says irritably, but the fact that he’s still playing with Patrick’s hair takes the edge off.
“No, really, you’re not looking too good.”
Pete snorts. “Love you too.” He steps away and crosses his arms, which proves to be an awkward maneuver, considering that they’re in a bathroom stall.
Patrick rolls his eyes. “Pete. It’s a simple question. Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine, I promise.”
Patrick pauses for a moment, waiting for Pete to say something else. When he doesn’t, Patrick moves forward and tugs him closer, and they pick up where they left off.
[//]
That night, Andy drives while Patrick dozes in the passenger seat. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that Pete is all the way in the back of the van, mostly because if he were any closer, he’d probably be doing something annoying to the back of Patrick’s head. But Patrick sleeps pretty solidly, letting the night air press itself into his eyelids.
He’s jolted from his sleep suddenly when his cell phone starts vibrating in his right pocket. He makes a noise (probably extremely unattractive, he thinks) and jumps, noticing that it’s 3:04 AM before he reaches into his pocket and withdraws his cell phone.
The screen informs him that he has a new text message, so he presses the “read” button.
hey trick r u awake
From: Pete
3:03 AM
Patrick sighs and texts back.
I am now.
Patrick closes his eyes while another minute goes by, then looks at his phone when it buzzes again.
oh ok. i was asleep 2 but i had a bad dream
From: Pete
3:05 AM
Patrick shakes his head and yawns, resigning himself to being exhausted all day.
This is stupid. Youre like 3 feet away.
Patrick hits send and not thirty seconds later, his phone buzzes again, this time with an incoming call.
“Pete,” Patrick hisses into the receiver, “what is it for God’s sake?” Andy gives him a weird look from the driver’s seat, but Patrick just mouths “crazy” and waves him off.
“I already told you,” Pete whispers back, and it’s the weirdest thing, because Patrick can hear his voice coming from behind him, but he can only make out the words once they’ve come out of the receiver.
“You had a bad dream?” Patrick whispers, pressing his phone close to his ear.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Um. No.”
Patrick heaves a longsuffering sigh. “What do you want, then?”
“’Trick, I’m afraid.”
“Why?”
Patrick can hear Pete shift the phone from one ear to the other. “You call me Superman.”
“So what? It’s a joke, Pete.”
“No,” Pete says forcefully. “I mean, I know. But. It got me thinking.”
“About what?”
“About… me? I’m a superhero ‘Trick.”
“Sure you are,” Patrick says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and irritation in equal parts.
“No, really. I’m like a superhero.”
“This worries you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because for every hero, there’s a villain.” Pete pauses, and Patrick thinks for a moment that he’s completely lost it. And okay, this thought isn’t entirely new.
“I don’t see where you’re going with this,” Patrick says when Pete doesn’t continue.
“Well. I think. What if… what if I’m the villain, too?”
Patrick snorts. “What makes you think that?”
Pete is silent for a long time, and Patrick thinks he might have fallen asleep. “I can’t,” Pete says finally, and for inexplicable reasons, Patrick is suddenly brought back to his basement a few months ago, when Pete muttered the same words in his sleep. “I just. Talk to me, ‘Trick? Just, talk.”
So Patrick does. He tells Pete that he’s an idiot, but that he doesn’t care too much because it’s worth it, and after a while, Patrick doesn’t even know what he’s talking about because his eyelids are drooping and soon enough, he can hear Pete breathing in the back of the bus and in his ear, and only then does Patrick whisper, “I love you, you jackass.”
[//]
Patrick quickly realizes that Pete’s nightmares are the cause of his ill appearance. Pete will sit up in the back of the bus a lot of nights, not even attempting to sleep. Other times, he’ll call Patrick (regardless of how physically close they are), and make him talk him to sleep. This goes on for months, and it takes a toll on Patrick both physically and mentally-he starts snapping at anyone who asks him anything, especially if it’s Pete.
But one night, at a show, Patrick starts to see just how badly Pete is taking all of this. It’s halfway through the set, and Patrick’s just finished belting out the last note to Grand Theft Autumn, and just as he strums the last chord on his guitar, the crowd surges and Pete steps up to the mic for the first time all night.
The spotlight goes on him, and suddenly his whole right side is bathed in white, and Patrick can see the deep rings around his eyes, almost like bruises. Pete lets his bass hang off him like something useless and grips the mic with both hands, cupping it and pressing his mouth right up to it. He has a deep sadness in his eyes, the kind of sadness Patrick usually only catches when Pete thinks nobody’s watching.
“Hey Iowa,” he croaks, taking one hand away from the mic to brush hair out of his eyes. “Do you want to live forever?”
[//]
Then they’re back in Chicago, and Pete’s parents still have no idea who he is, so Pete stays with Patrick again. This time, Patrick sleeps in the basement with him, and Patrick’s mom gives him a knowing look as he carries some of his stuff downstairs. It’s kind of disconcerting, but Patrick doesn’t think about it too much, because his mom doesn’t seem to care either way.
The first night they’re in Patrick’s basement, Pete looks at Patrick warily as he climbs into bed next to him.
“What’s wrong? We can fuck, but you don’t want to sleep in the same bed with me?” Patrick says as he folds the covers over the both of them.
Pete lies down and turns his head towards Patrick. “No, it’s nothing,” he says, and he drapes an arm over Patrick and pulls him closer, pressing his nose into Patrick’s neck. He’s really warm, and it makes Patrick so sleepy that he almost forgets to care.
[//]
Two hours later, Patrick finds out why Pete was so reluctant.
Patrick is asleep, and then all of a sudden, he feels a sharp blow to his side and he’s wide-awake and wondering what the fuck is going on. Another blow to his stomach, and it winds him but it doesn’t hurt, and his eyes adjust to the dark and he sees Pete, thrashing like he’s never seen him thrash before. His face is screwed up and his eyes are open, but despite the dark, his pupils are pinpricks, and holy shit, this is scary.
He’s throwing blind punches at Patrick, and it takes Patrick’s sleep-addled mind a little longer than it should to figure out that he should probably get out of the way. Pete does manage to make contact a couple times, but to Patrick’s confusion, it doesn’t hurt. At all. It’s really the strangest thing; he can feel the pressure of Pete’s various limbs connecting with him, but there’s no shooting pain, and he’s not at all deterred by it.
Pete (if that’s who is in bed with him, Patrick thinks) is getting frustrated. He starts thrashing even more violently, and it takes all Patrick has to call out to him.
“Pete, stop it.”
Pete stills for a moment, but only for a moment. So Patrick tries again. “Pete, stop.” He approaches cautiously and touches Pete’s arm, and then he’s actually stops. He blinks a couple times, and to Patrick’s relief, his eyes look normal again.
“Oh. Oh shit.”
“Yeah, what the fuck was that?” Patrick asks, more shaken up than anything.
So Pete explains. He explains that for the past several months, he’s been having these really violent dreams, every night, and he can’t stop them. In all of these dreams, he sees himself hurting people he cares about, hurting Patrick.
Suddenly, the three AM phone calls make sense.
“I’m dangerous when I’m sleeping, ‘Trick. I’ve known that for a few months now.”
Patrick considers this. “What are we supposed to do?”
Pete shrugs. “If I knew, I would have done it already.”
[//]
So there’s a slight problem: in The Comic Book, the main character dies.
Patrick thinks he’s being a little ridiculous by getting worried. Hell, he thinks he’s being a little ridiculous by reading The Comic Book at all. But Pete seems to have learned a thing or two from it, so Patrick decides to give it a look. He digs through Pete’s duffel bags and eventually comes across the whole stack, worn around the corners and occasionally warped from moisture.
And hey, the thing is pretty accurate. Throughout the course of the ten volumes, which Patrick reads over the next two days, the main character, a woman named Idony, discovers her strange ability, becomes painfully confused, is forgotten by her family, tries to kill herself, tries to hurt others against her will, and finally, dies.
According to the story, every hero has a weakness. Idony’s is anger. If she gets angry, she will go into a trance and start kicking the ass of whoever happens to be near her. The more she cares about them, the harder she will try to hurt them. Especially if they were the ones to get her angry. The trick is, in this state, she can also be hurt. This makes Patrick think.
Pete is an insomniac. It’s only logical that his weakness is sleep. Well, sleep and Patrick.
But Idony, at the end of the story, she gets angry with herself and winds up dying.
Patrick glances up from the book, which he is reading by flashlight. He’s sitting on the floor of his basement on a sleeping bag, next to the bed, which Pete is sleeping on. He hasn’t shown any signs of acting up quite yet, but Patrick knows it will start soon. Especially if Patrick gets anywhere near him. They made this arrangement after the initial night, because even though Patrick insisted that it didn’t hurt when Pete kicked and punched him, Pete just felt too guilty. So after they finished making out (Patrick didn’t want to have sex in the basement of his house, with his parents only two floors up), Patrick would climb out of bed and into a sleeping bag on the floor. Pete had wanted to sleep on the floor, but Patrick insisted.
Patrick slides the stack of comic books back under the bed, where he’s been hiding them from Pete. He clicks off the flashlight and lays down in the sleeping bag.
Pete whimpers in his sleep and Patrick can hear the sound of the mattress creaking as he moves. Patrick just clenches his eyes shut tighter. He’s used to it by now.
[//]
After that, Patrick can’t look at Pete for a while, especially when he sleeps. He keeps seeing him vulnerable and bleeding, sometimes in his head and sometimes in his dreams. It usually starts out nice; Pete is smiling at him and sometimes their hands are touching, and then Pete is crumpled like a rag doll and bleeding from wide gashes. Sometimes there is no blood, but it’s understood that Pete is dead.
Only one thing is consistent: it is always Patrick’s fault
[//]
Three days later, Patrick is done with waiting. He doesn’t necessarily know what he’s doing (and he might be somewhat afraid for Pete’s safety), but he does know that the problem isn’t going to fix itself. Pete tries to talk Patrick out of sleeping in the same bed with him, but Patrick insists that this has to be dealt with, goddamnit, because if it isn’t, they are going to be dealing with it for the rest of their lives (and it’s only after he says it that Patrick realizes that hey, he is actually considering sharing a bed with Pete for the duration of that time). Pete smirks smugly at this and doesn’t argue further.
When the thrashing starts, Patrick is ready. He doesn’t know if he knows what to do, or if it’s some otherworldly force acting through him, but the second Pete starts acting up, Patrick wakes up and delivers a purposeful punch right to the middle of his face.
And hey, maybe the third time is the charm, or maybe it is some sort of combination of circumstances, or maybe whatever higher power in charge of this unfortunate chain of events finally decides that enough is enough. Either way, Patrick doesn’t care, because when Pete curses and his nose starts bleeding (just his nose, he’s not dying, thank god) and they both fumble around for the light on the night table, Patrick is never happier to see a belly button.
Patrick smiles and hands Pete a wad of tissues.
XI.
That morning, before Pete even wakes up, his cell phone starts buzzing, vibrating the entire night table, and calling Patrick’s attention. Instead of waking Pete up, he picks up the phone and answers it.
“Hello?” he croaks into the receiver, clearing his throat afterwards.
“Patrick?” It’s Mrs. Wentz. Patrick feels a flood of relief spilling into his stomach, all at once. This really is over.
“Yeah, hi. Um, Pete’s asleep, but I can wake-”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Wentz says, chuckling slightly. “I just, well. I feel like I haven’t spoken to him in ages, but I can wait. Just. Tell him to call me when he wakes up?”
“Sure thing,” Patrick says, smiling. “Have a good one.”
“Likewise. See you soon, Patrick.”
He hangs up the phone, then picks up his own to call Andy and Joe.
[//]
Over the course of the next three weeks, Pete is punched, kicked, pinched, slapped, and noogied more than he ever was in his life. Andy and Joe are so happy to have him back that they take every opportunity imaginable to cause him pain. Pete complains a lot, but Patrick secretly knows that he finds it endearing.
Things are back to normal, for the most part. Every once in a while, Pete will get some asshole trying to pick a fight with him, but Pete uses as much self-control he possesses and just walks away (most of the time).
“How much longer?” Pete asks Andy. It’s a month later, and things are back on track. They’re on their way to Sacramento and Pete’s getting restless.
“Go fuck yourself,” Andy says conversationally, and Joe snorts from the passenger’s seat. Patrick chuckles quietly and pulls Pete closer, so he’s settled comfortably between Patrick’s legs.
Joe turns around in his seat and looks at them. “Cozy back there, lovebirds?” He makes face, and Pete chucks Patrick’s hat in his general direction, laughing in that goofy, high-pitched way that makes Patrick’s chest feel warm.
On days like today, when they’re zooming between highway lines and Patrick can feel Pete’s warm weight on his chest and stomach, he laments the loss of forever. But as Pete presses his lips to Patrick’s neck-when he unknowingly tightens his hold on Patrick’s heart-Patrick thinks that he just might have found forever, all over again.
End.
A couple notes:
*The comic book they read is completely made up, so don't go looking for it. ;D musictoyourlips actually had the idea to have Pete look at a comic book to try and figure out what was going on with him. I made up the story (vague as it was), as well as Idony. Hopefully it sounded at least semi-convincing. XP
*In Patrick’s dream, Pete and Patrick were quoting from the comic The Sandman, written by Neil Gaiman. I actually only read the first volume, but I was looking for a good quote for the yearbook a few weeks ago and when I came across this one after doing a google search it stuck with me (plus, the same line is roughly quoted in an MCR song, and how cool is that?). I have no idea if Pete and Patrick are Neil Gaiman fans, or if they even read comic books, but I felt the line was appropriate considering the subject matter of the story.
VI.
Things between Pete and Patrick are strained for the next few days, and just as they seem to be falling back into their groove of easy friendship, Pete does something stupid.
Patrick remembers Samantha every once in a while, and thinks triumphantly that Pete got rid of her. He hasn’t seen her since last week, as far as Patrick knows, and he hasn’t even been on the phone with anyone lately. But on the following Friday night, when Patrick’s parents are out to dinner, Patrick ventures into the basement to ask Pete if he wants to go get some pizza. It’s around eight o’clock, but Patrick heard Pete coming in through the downstairs entrance about a half hour ago, so he figures he’d be down there.
When Patrick opens the door and starts down the stairs, he hears a breathy gasp, and before his brain can process what might be the cause of it, he’s halfway down and oh God, there’s a naked girl and Pete’s between her legs and oh, oh.
Patrick’s frozen on the spot, even when he sees the expression on Samantha’s face turn from pleasure to confusion to shock to embarrassment. Apparently, Pete can feel the sudden tenseness in the air, because he lifts his head up and turns around, and oh God, this is so humiliating. Before Pete can say anything, Patrick unfreezes and bolts back up the stairs, slamming the door behind him.
By the time he gets back to his room, Patrick has about a dozen different emotions bubbling up in his stomach. He recognizes one of them as embarrassment because yeah, he just walked in on his best friend going down on a girl. And he can’t deny the anger either, because Pete just took it upon himself to invite his girlfriend over to Patrick’s house and have sex with her in his basement, in his mom’s basement. But perhaps most disturbing to Patrick is the jealousy, practically eating away at his insides. Patrick isn’t willing to consider the fact that he might have feelings for Pete; that’s just out of the question. Pete is an asshole, and Patrick may make friends with assholes, but he definitely doesn’t fall in love with them.
Barely a minute later, before Patrick can finish sorting out his thoughts, Pete bursts through his bedroom door, looking terribly guilty. “I’m-”
“Don’t say it!” Patrick snaps, glaring at him.
“But I am!” Pete cries. “I’m so, so sorry, Patrick. I shouldn’tve brought her-”
“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. So just save it, Pete, and get out of here.”
Pete’s eyes are wide and apologetic. “But-”
Patrick takes two steps forward and punches him in the face.
He doesn’t even think about what he’s doing; he doesn’t remember that Pete apparently can’t feel any pain. It’s just what his gut tells him to do, so he does it.
And Pete instantly springs a nosebleed.
He opens his mouth and cries out in pain, bending over and grabbing at his nose with both hands. “Ow! Fuck!”
Patrick stares down at his fist in shock and disbelief, wondering why he was able to hurt Pete and guys twice his size weren’t, when Pete himself wasn’t. He feels a pang of remorse, but it’s greatly lessened by his anger.
After watching Pete curse and bleed for a few seconds, Patrick comes to his senses and sighs. “Come here, Pete.” He grabs Pete’s arm and drags him downstairs to the kitchen, where he hands him a wad of paper towels to clean himself up.
“Ow, ow, ow,” Pete says as he tentatively blots at his nose.
“Um, I’m sorry?” Patrick says, unsure if he’s morally obligated to apologize.
Pete winces. “Don’t be, man. I kind of deserved it. But what the fuck, why did that hurt?”
Patrick shrugs one shoulder. “I dunno, maybe I cured you.”
Pete’s washing his hands now; apparently his nose stopped bleeding, although by looking at his face, Patrick thinks it hasn’t stopped hurting. Pete turns off the tap and wipes his hands on his jeans. “One way to find out, eh?” He walks over to where he knows Patrick’s mom keeps the silverware, and opens the drawer.
“Oh no, I won’t let you commit suicide with my mom’s cutlery,” Patrick says, trying to swipe the knife Pete’s holding.
“Chill, dude. I’m only gonna make a little cut.” Pete presses the blade to his arm, and then lets go when he sees blood. He groans when he sees the blood disappear, and his skin mend itself.
“I guess not,” Patrick says, taking the knife and putting it in the sink even though the blood’s gone from it already. Pete touches his nose and winces again, looking perplexed.
They’re quiet for a while, and Pete looks at Patrick out of the corner of his eye. “You still mad at me?”
Patrick looks back. “Yes. But less, now that I’ve given you a nosebleed.”
Pete smiles crookedly, his lips pressed together. “I really am sorry, you know. I was gonna break up with her, but then…”
“I don’t want to know,” Patrick says curtly.
“Fair enough,” Pete says, holding his hands up in surrender.
They go into the living room and sit on the couch together, and Patrick turns on the TV. They sit there for a while, and Pete leans his head on Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick wants to push him off, but he thinks that doing so would be making too big of a deal out of everything, so he lets him stay there, even though the contact is making something in Patrick’s belly ache. But when Pete sits up and leans in to kiss Patrick, Patrick ducks out of the way, because that’s just pushing it.
Pete looks hurt for a moment, but he gets over it and lets his head fall back to Patrick’s shoulder. Pete starts to doze at around ten, and Patrick soon follows; when Patrick’s mom and dad come home at eleven, his mom shuts the TV off and his dad drapes a blanket over them. Patrick wakes up at two AM with Pete’s head still on his shoulder, and a heavy bittersweet feeling in his heart.
VII.
Things pick up again quickly once they’re back on the road; they hit a lot of the same venues, and Pete point-blank refuses to cool it with the showing off. Patrick knows he dumped Samantha the day after Patrick caught them having sex, but there are plenty of other Samanthas at other shows around the country, and Pete makes a point of finding (and sleeping with) several of them. Pete disappears for long stretches of time, and normally, Patrick wouldn’t mind too much. This is who Pete is, and what he does, and Patrick entered into their friendship already knowing this. But Patrick knows that it wasn’t Pete who changed; it was Patrick himself. He’s finding it hard to ignore his newfound feelings for Pete, and remembers the kiss they shared far too often, and with far too much fondness.
On top of all this, more and more people are picking fights with Pete. It seems to have become a challenge of sorts; everybody wants to be the one who makes Pete Wentz stay down. So far, Patrick has been the only one to administer a successful punch, but the public is determined. Pete doesn’t mind; it just gives him more opportunities to show off in front of the girls he wants to impress.
Patrick is used to Pete going off with girls, so he doesn’t expect anything else; he isn’t prepared for it, either. They’re in New York, and all through their set, Patrick can’t help but notice this attractive guy lingering right by the front of the stage, making eyes at Pete the entire time. He has straight black hair, and he’s wearing too much eyeliner, and tight pants, and a lip ring, and Patrick thinks he’s a typical scene kid. During “Calm Before the Storm,” Patrick turns to Pete to see if he’s noticed the guy; quite clearly, he has. Pete’s looking right at him, his eyes half-lidded, and wow, Patrick’s never seen Pete look at anybody like that before. Patrick manages to convince himself that Pete’s just leading the guy on, because he’s never seen Pete do anything serious with a guy before. But after their set, Pete dodges punches and ignores jeers, and makes his way straight towards the guy, the suave smile firmly in place on his face. Patrick can’t help but watch from across the room; he knows all of Pete’s moves, so he recognizes them even from a great distance. He leans in, he whispers in the guy’s ear, and the guy laughs and mutters something in response. Patrick’s jealousy returns tenfold, and it increases even further when he sees Pete take the guy’s hand and lead him towards the bathrooms. Patrick slams his glass of water back on the bar and mutters something about going outside to Joe, who’s caught up in a conversation with a pretty blonde girl.
Patrick’s first breath of fresh air after leaving the bar feels like the best he’s ever taken; his lungs were straining from the combination of the smoke and the anxiety, and he really needed some alone time. The van is parked next to a chain-link fence, and he sits down on one side of it so his back is facing the bar, feeling the twists and turns of the metal digging into his shirt. He tucks his knees up to his chest and rests his hand on the concrete on either side of him, and just breathes. He doesn’t know how much more of Pete Wentz he can stand, because when he saw him lead that random boy towards the bathroom, he could almost feel his heart break. Patrick never knew that Pete was into guys, and the fact that they’re an actual possibility makes the fact that it’ll never happen that much more painful. Patrick sighs to himself and laments the fact that he doesn’t smoke, because this would be an excellent time for a cigarette.
He sits there for almost an hour; from his spot on the ground, he can hear the distant music coming from the bar, and he lets his mind drift to the people inside, and the fact that they’re most likely having a lot more fun than he is. Patrick won’t admit to being good at many things, but he knows that self-pity is one thing he can beat the masses at.
But after a while, he hears the scrape of shoes on concrete approaching him, then the pressure of someone else’s back leaning against his own on the other side of the fence. Patrick doesn’t have to turn around; he knows who it is.
“What’re you doing out here?” he asks.
“Looking for you,” says Pete.
“What about that guy?”
“He had somewhere to be. And so did I.”
Patrick presses his lips together tightly. He really hates Pete sometimes, even if he means well.
“Listen,” Pete says quietly, “I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I hope you’d tell me if it was me.”
Patrick’s quiet for a while. “It’s not you, Pete.” It’s a lie, but Patrick doesn’t know what else to say.
“Well that’s good,” Pete says, but he doesn’t sound as if he completely believes Patrick.
Patrick can feel Pete shifting behind him, and he knows that Pete wants him to turn around, so he does. Patrick hooks his fingers through the gaps in the fence, and sees Pete, only partially obstructed by the metal. “I just wanted to say,” Pete starts, threading his fingers with Patrick’s, the fence separating their palms, “that you always come first. And I never want anything to fuck us up, ever.” Pete squeezes Patrick’s fingers slightly, and Patrick knows that if Pete were to lean in for a kiss right then, he would not duck out of the way.
Patrick smiles.
VIII.
The next day, things go really, undeniably, painfully wrong.
They’re in Jersey for a show, and the venue is among the filthiest Patrick has ever seen. The backstage area is waterlogged and dirt-caked, and Patrick gets a generally foreboding feeling just being there. He’s been noticing more and more people showing up who didn’t appear to be there for the music over the past few days, and when he gets his first glimpse of the audience, he knows that a lot of these people are waiting for their opportunity to attempt to beat the crap out of Pete.
Ironically, Pete doesn’t do anything too showy on stage. Perhaps it’s because he senses Patrick’s unease about the whole ordeal, or perhaps the novelty is just wearing off (finally, Patrick thinks). Either way, he sticks to the plan, performing but not exactly showing off.
It’s a good show; the crowd gets into it, and Patrick feels a satisfying sense of unity with the band and the audience. Pete even goes up to him and kisses his neck while they’re playing, something he hasn’t done in a while, and Patrick has to fight against a blush.
But when they leave the stage, all hell breaks loose. Apparently, the people have been misinformed; instead of going for Pete when the band walks into the crowd, a good number of them go for Patrick. Patrick knows that a lot of times, people get him and Pete confused, since Pete’s the one who is really the face of the band, and usually that position is filled by the singer. However, this mix-up has never proved to be dangerous.
Patrick first notices something is off when a large bearded man takes a swing at him. Patrick yelps and ducks, but not before another guy punches his stomach swiftly. Patrick feels pain and fear erupt all at once, and he doubles over, clutching his stomach. Then another guy punches his face, and before he blacks out, he can see Pete over the guy’s shoulder, looking utterly horrified.
[//]
Patrick’s really only out for a minute or so, but it feels like a lot longer. When he opens his eyes, he sees a whole circle of people crowded around him. His attackers aren’t there (apparently they fled when they realized what happened), but he sees Andy and Joe and Pete, and some of the kids who were watching their set. Everyone is frowning at him, and they all jump in surprise when he moves.
“Are you okay?” Pete is the first one to speak. He also looks the most worried, and Patrick gets a small amount of satisfaction from this.
“I was just punched in the face by a guy twice my size,” Patrick mumbles, reaching up to touch his cheek, which would surely be bruised. “I don’t think I can honestly say I’m okay.”
Joe and Andy wince.
“This is your fault, you know,” Patrick says bitterly, looking right at Pete. Pete looks horribly guilty, and Patrick thinks it just serves him right.
“Yeah. Well, it’s not entirely-”
Patrick punches him in the face.
Pete yelps.
The crowd gasps.
“Hey! That hurt!”
“It so was entirely your fault, Peter,” Patrick says, his teeth clenched.
“You just-“
“And I’ll do it again,” Patrick promises him. “If you don’t shut the fuck up.”
[//]
Patrick won’t even look at Pete until the swelling in his cheek goes down. It does help, however, that Pete’s face is looking equally abused, and the knowledge that Patrick was the reason behind this makes it even better. But Patrick can feel the guilt radiating off Pete in waves, and Patrick knows that whatever joy he was still getting out of being a quasi-superhero was gone. Pete starts stopping at comic book shops, picking up volume after volume of that one series with the girl who had the same problem, presumably trying to figure out an answer to his predicament. But as he reads on, Patrick notices that Pete just gets more depressed.
After Patrick punched Pete in the face the second time, Pete made a call to his mother. She still didn’t remember him, and Pete had hung up the phone very dejectedly, and Patrick had smirked to himself, thinking that Pete was definitely getting what he deserved.
But after Patrick heals and he decides to forgive Pete, neither of them knows what to do. They sit in the back of the van when Joe’s driving and Andy’s sleeping, and they brainstorm.
“Maybe you should punch me again,” Pete says, exasperation coloring his tone. “They say the third time’s the charm.”
Patrick shakes his head. “I don’t think that’d work, Pete.”
Pete groans and throws an arm over his face. “I guess we just have to wait then. Hopefully I’ll get to talk to my mom again before she dies.”
“Stop being so dramatic,” Patrick chides.
Over the next couple weeks, Pete becomes very quiet. He stops being obnoxious and he stops showing off on stage, and really, his friends are finding it disconcerting. But that’s not the end of his odd behavior, either; he’s spending a lot more time just following Patrick around, and Patrick becomes accustomed to having Pete stare at him. Not to say he doesn’t find it unnerving-he definitely does, but he knows that Pete’s a strange person, and comes to accept this new behavior.
One day, Patrick asks him about it. Pete looks startled for a moment, as if he didn’t realize Patrick had noticed, but quickly shakes it off. “Well, you’re the only one who I’m still normal to,” Pete explains quietly. “If you get mad at me, you can actually hurt me. Nobody else can do that.”
“Wouldn’t that be a reason to stay away from me?” Patrick says, frowning.
“I could never want to stay away from you, ‘Trick. You know that.” Pete touches Patrick’s cheek, and Patrick flinches. Patrick’s finding it harder to forget about Pete and the unspoken possibilities. Pete kisses him again, and Patrick wants to scream a dozen different questions right in his face, but instead he kisses back, and cries about it later when it’s dark in the van and everyone else is asleep. He’s silent, and he only moves his hands from the steering wheel to wipe the tears off his cheeks, and he only moves his eyes from the road to glance at himself in the rear view mirror. He feels a jolt in his chest when he sits back in his seat and sees Pete’s eyes gleaming at him in the dark. But Pete doesn’t say anything, and neither does Patrick, and everything seems fine.
IX.
They’re playing two shows in a row at the same venue, so they decide to stay at a hotel. There’s no question of who’s rooming with whom, because everyone knows Pete won’t let Patrick out of his sight, and really, Patrick wishes he would for once. The stolen kisses are quickly becoming too much for him, and Patrick can’t even find it within himself to talk to Pete about them, or ask him if they mean anything. Patrick is inclined to think that they don’t, since Pete never says anything about them. Like most other things he does, they’re just impulses, and he always follows through because that’s who he is.
But that night, when Patrick’s in one of the double beds trying to fall asleep, he feels the mattress dip behind him and he knows that Pete’s climbing into bed with him. Pete knows he isn’t asleep or he wouldn’t be doing what he’s doing, and Patrick clenches his eyes shut tightly, thinking that perhaps if he wishes hard enough, Pete will go away. But he doesn’t; instead he squirms under the covers and gets himself against Patrick’s back, pressing his face to Patrick’s neck and breathing softly. Pete’s arms are strong, and his chest is rigid, and his body is warm, and Patrick is an eighteen-year-old boy, so he isn’t very surprised when he feels himself getting hard. He’s glad Pete isn’t in front of him, because at least where he is now, there’s a chance he won’t notice.
“Why won’t it stop?” Pete whispers in Patrick’s ear, and Patrick shivers.
“I don’t know, Pete.” He swallows. “Didn’t you used to like the idea of living forever?”
Pete shifts, holding Patrick more tightly. “Forever won’t be any fun if you’re not there, ‘Trick.”
Patrick’s heart starts thumping, and there’s no way Pete can’t feel that. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” Patrick doesn’t even know what he’s saying, because Pete’s turning him over, and leaning close, and then they’re kissing, and Pete’s hands are wandering, and Patrick wants to laugh and cry and scream all at the same time. But he doesn’t stop Pete, because he does want this, but the entire time he’s thinking that Pete doesn’t mean any of this, and that he’s just playing, and Patrick’s going to be ditched like that guy from the bar in New York.
And Pete only makes the tiniest sound when he comes, but Patrick thinks it’s the loveliest thing he’s heard in a while, and when they lie there to catch their breath, Pete draws circles across Patrick’s chest with his fingers and presses soft kisses to his jaw.
“However long forever is for me,” Pete whispers, his mouth less than an inch away from Patrick’s ear, “I want to spend it with you, okay?”
Patrick knows that tone of voice, and he wants to fall for what Pete’s saying, and he wants to fall for Pete, but he just can’t believe him. And Patrick knows that he could easily sit up and punch Pete right in the jaw, or kick him in the balls, and it would hurt and Pete would yell and curse, but Patrick doesn’t use this power against him. Instead, he lets Pete whisper his candy-coated lies, and falls asleep to the duet of their hearts beating.
[//]
Patrick wakes up in the middle of the night to the feeling of something sharp poking him in the ribs, and when he opens his eyes, he sees that it’s Pete’s elbow. Pete is sleeping violently, twisting and turning and moving his limbs recklessly, and Patrick furrows his brow. He remembers what happened that night, before they fell asleep, and wonders if Pete’s having nightmares about him.
But Pete looks more troubled than that; his face is scrunched up and his eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth is open, and he’s taking great, heaving gasps. Patrick touches his arm gently, and Pete jerks awake.
“What happened?” he gasps, flipping over and turning towards Patrick, his dark eyes wild in the lightless room.
“Shh, go back to sleep,” Patrick whispers. Pete’s face relaxes when he sees Patrick, and he crawls closer so he can kiss his jaw gently. Patrick sighs to himself and lets Pete pull him close so they fall asleep with their limbs entwined.
[//]
The sex doesn’t stop there. It continues, in the back of the van when Andy and Joe are sleeping, in bathroom stalls at rest stops, behind the bars they play in before or after their set, sometimes both. Patrick tries not to feel hopeful when he realizes that Pete’s stopped having one night stands with random kids, because he’s sure it doesn’t really mean anything. He’s also sure that Pete’s using him as a distraction from his predicament, because Patrick remains the only person against whom Pete has no miraculous defense. Pete spends a lot of his time with his head resting on Patrick’s shoulder, sitting at bars and staring at candles, occasionally holding his hand in the fire and watching as nothing happens. Patrick always swats his hand out of the way whenever he notices, because regardless of superhuman powers of defense, Patrick doesn’t want to watch Pete roast his hand.
“Cool it, Superman,” Patrick says, holding Pete’s hand after he takes it out of the fire. It’s hotter than usual, but other than that, it looks and feels fine.
Pete smiles and nuzzles Patrick’s neck. “If I’m Superman, you’re my kryptonite.”
Patrick blushes, but doesn’t let on. “Such a charmer. If you’re Superman, I’d suggest you catch the next spaceship back to planet Krypton.”
“Wouldn’t leave you behind, ‘Trick.” Something in Patrick’s chest aches and he recognizes it as longing. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly and lets Pete kiss him.
[//]
Patrick is surprised when Pete asks him to go exclusive a month later.
“I just figured, I don’t want anybody else right now, and I don’t think you do either, so why not?” he says hopefully, and Patrick stares at him like he grew a second head.
“You want me to be your boyfriend?” Patrick says incredulously. Pete nods. “No, Pete. No. This is ridiculous. There are so many reasons why this won’t work. Can’t work.”
Pete looks angry. “Yeah? Name a few.”
Patrick sighs. “I don’t know. The band. The fact that you’re my best friend. Plus, you have relationship ADD, and I don’t want to be a victim of your boredom.”
Pete’s face crumples. “Is that what you think?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Patrick crosses his arms, and really, when Pete looks at him like that, he has some trouble remembering what the reasons were.
Pete sighs. “Fine. But… think about it okay? And like, let me know if you change your mind or whatever.”
Pete kisses him and walks away, and Joe appears out of nowhere and shakes his head at Patrick. “Real smooth, Stumpy,” he says, impervious to Patrick’s death glare.
“Would you date Pete?” Patrick snaps.
Joe frowns, and for a minute Patrick thinks he might say yes. “No. But I wouldn’t screw him either, and you obviously feel different there.”
Patrick’s jaw drops, because he was under the delusion that Andy and Joe hadn’t noticed. Sure, they saw Pete kissing him, but Pete kisses everyone.
“You…?”
“Oh, please,” Joe snorts. “You’re so obvious about it.” He walks away, and Patrick sits down to obsess over what just happened. He still thinks Pete’s just in it for the sex (and Patrick can’t blame him, because he knows that he gives fantastic blowjobs), but he can’t help but wonder if that’s really such a bad thing. They’re pretty much exclusive already, seeing as neither of them is seeing anybody else, but Patrick just never expected them to last for very long. When he realizes it had been a month since the first time in the hotel, he feels lightheaded, especially because nothing disastrous has happened, and Patrick hasn’t had to vacuum his heart off the floor yet. But Pete is Pete, and anything involving him can’t possibly end well, and as irritating and asshole-ish he is, Patrick likes having him in his life. Even if it’s as “just friends,” or friends with benefits.
X.
The thing is, Pete hasn’t been looking so great lately.
Patrick realizes this somewhere between Utah and New Mexico (he’s not really sure), when they’re making out in a bathroom stall and the florescent lights hit Pete at this weird angle, and all of a sudden, Patrick notices that his eyes are sagging behind the makeup, and his skin looks kind of pasty, and hey, his hands are a little cold on Patrick’s skin.
Pete breaks away for a moment and rests his chin on Patrick’s shoulder, and begins fitting their hips together, and Patrick’s really hard but he can’t concentrate fully on the sex because of the unwelcome thoughts slowly filtering into his head, so he gently pushes Pete away and takes his face in his hands.
“What is it?” Pete mutters, brushing Patrick’s hands off and moving in for another kiss. Patrick stops him and peers at him with concern.
“Are you feeling alright?”
Pete looks bemused. “Your timing is unbelievable, ‘Trick,” he says irritably, but the fact that he’s still playing with Patrick’s hair takes the edge off.
“No, really, you’re not looking too good.”
Pete snorts. “Love you too.” He steps away and crosses his arms, which proves to be an awkward maneuver, considering that they’re in a bathroom stall.
Patrick rolls his eyes. “Pete. It’s a simple question. Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine, I promise.”
Patrick pauses for a moment, waiting for Pete to say something else. When he doesn’t, Patrick moves forward and tugs him closer, and they pick up where they left off.
[//]
That night, Andy drives while Patrick dozes in the passenger seat. He’s vaguely aware of the fact that Pete is all the way in the back of the van, mostly because if he were any closer, he’d probably be doing something annoying to the back of Patrick’s head. But Patrick sleeps pretty solidly, letting the night air press itself into his eyelids.
He’s jolted from his sleep suddenly when his cell phone starts vibrating in his right pocket. He makes a noise (probably extremely unattractive, he thinks) and jumps, noticing that it’s 3:04 AM before he reaches into his pocket and withdraws his cell phone.
The screen informs him that he has a new text message, so he presses the “read” button.
hey trick r u awake
From: Pete
3:03 AM
Patrick sighs and texts back.
I am now.
Patrick closes his eyes while another minute goes by, then looks at his phone when it buzzes again.
oh ok. i was asleep 2 but i had a bad dream
From: Pete
3:05 AM
Patrick shakes his head and yawns, resigning himself to being exhausted all day.
This is stupid. Youre like 3 feet away.
Patrick hits send and not thirty seconds later, his phone buzzes again, this time with an incoming call.
“Pete,” Patrick hisses into the receiver, “what is it for God’s sake?” Andy gives him a weird look from the driver’s seat, but Patrick just mouths “crazy” and waves him off.
“I already told you,” Pete whispers back, and it’s the weirdest thing, because Patrick can hear his voice coming from behind him, but he can only make out the words once they’ve come out of the receiver.
“You had a bad dream?” Patrick whispers, pressing his phone close to his ear.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Um. No.”
Patrick heaves a longsuffering sigh. “What do you want, then?”
“’Trick, I’m afraid.”
“Why?”
Patrick can hear Pete shift the phone from one ear to the other. “You call me Superman.”
“So what? It’s a joke, Pete.”
“No,” Pete says forcefully. “I mean, I know. But. It got me thinking.”
“About what?”
“About… me? I’m a superhero ‘Trick.”
“Sure you are,” Patrick says, his voice dripping with sarcasm and irritation in equal parts.
“No, really. I’m like a superhero.”
“This worries you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because for every hero, there’s a villain.” Pete pauses, and Patrick thinks for a moment that he’s completely lost it. And okay, this thought isn’t entirely new.
“I don’t see where you’re going with this,” Patrick says when Pete doesn’t continue.
“Well. I think. What if… what if I’m the villain, too?”
Patrick snorts. “What makes you think that?”
Pete is silent for a long time, and Patrick thinks he might have fallen asleep. “I can’t,” Pete says finally, and for inexplicable reasons, Patrick is suddenly brought back to his basement a few months ago, when Pete muttered the same words in his sleep. “I just. Talk to me, ‘Trick? Just, talk.”
So Patrick does. He tells Pete that he’s an idiot, but that he doesn’t care too much because it’s worth it, and after a while, Patrick doesn’t even know what he’s talking about because his eyelids are drooping and soon enough, he can hear Pete breathing in the back of the bus and in his ear, and only then does Patrick whisper, “I love you, you jackass.”
[//]
Patrick quickly realizes that Pete’s nightmares are the cause of his ill appearance. Pete will sit up in the back of the bus a lot of nights, not even attempting to sleep. Other times, he’ll call Patrick (regardless of how physically close they are), and make him talk him to sleep. This goes on for months, and it takes a toll on Patrick both physically and mentally-he starts snapping at anyone who asks him anything, especially if it’s Pete.
But one night, at a show, Patrick starts to see just how badly Pete is taking all of this. It’s halfway through the set, and Patrick’s just finished belting out the last note to Grand Theft Autumn, and just as he strums the last chord on his guitar, the crowd surges and Pete steps up to the mic for the first time all night.
The spotlight goes on him, and suddenly his whole right side is bathed in white, and Patrick can see the deep rings around his eyes, almost like bruises. Pete lets his bass hang off him like something useless and grips the mic with both hands, cupping it and pressing his mouth right up to it. He has a deep sadness in his eyes, the kind of sadness Patrick usually only catches when Pete thinks nobody’s watching.
“Hey Iowa,” he croaks, taking one hand away from the mic to brush hair out of his eyes. “Do you want to live forever?”
[//]
Then they’re back in Chicago, and Pete’s parents still have no idea who he is, so Pete stays with Patrick again. This time, Patrick sleeps in the basement with him, and Patrick’s mom gives him a knowing look as he carries some of his stuff downstairs. It’s kind of disconcerting, but Patrick doesn’t think about it too much, because his mom doesn’t seem to care either way.
The first night they’re in Patrick’s basement, Pete looks at Patrick warily as he climbs into bed next to him.
“What’s wrong? We can fuck, but you don’t want to sleep in the same bed with me?” Patrick says as he folds the covers over the both of them.
Pete lies down and turns his head towards Patrick. “No, it’s nothing,” he says, and he drapes an arm over Patrick and pulls him closer, pressing his nose into Patrick’s neck. He’s really warm, and it makes Patrick so sleepy that he almost forgets to care.
[//]
Two hours later, Patrick finds out why Pete was so reluctant.
Patrick is asleep, and then all of a sudden, he feels a sharp blow to his side and he’s wide-awake and wondering what the fuck is going on. Another blow to his stomach, and it winds him but it doesn’t hurt, and his eyes adjust to the dark and he sees Pete, thrashing like he’s never seen him thrash before. His face is screwed up and his eyes are open, but despite the dark, his pupils are pinpricks, and holy shit, this is scary.
He’s throwing blind punches at Patrick, and it takes Patrick’s sleep-addled mind a little longer than it should to figure out that he should probably get out of the way. Pete does manage to make contact a couple times, but to Patrick’s confusion, it doesn’t hurt. At all. It’s really the strangest thing; he can feel the pressure of Pete’s various limbs connecting with him, but there’s no shooting pain, and he’s not at all deterred by it.
Pete (if that’s who is in bed with him, Patrick thinks) is getting frustrated. He starts thrashing even more violently, and it takes all Patrick has to call out to him.
“Pete, stop it.”
Pete stills for a moment, but only for a moment. So Patrick tries again. “Pete, stop.” He approaches cautiously and touches Pete’s arm, and then he’s actually stops. He blinks a couple times, and to Patrick’s relief, his eyes look normal again.
“Oh. Oh shit.”
“Yeah, what the fuck was that?” Patrick asks, more shaken up than anything.
So Pete explains. He explains that for the past several months, he’s been having these really violent dreams, every night, and he can’t stop them. In all of these dreams, he sees himself hurting people he cares about, hurting Patrick.
Suddenly, the three AM phone calls make sense.
“I’m dangerous when I’m sleeping, ‘Trick. I’ve known that for a few months now.”
Patrick considers this. “What are we supposed to do?”
Pete shrugs. “If I knew, I would have done it already.”
[//]
So there’s a slight problem: in The Comic Book, the main character dies.
Patrick thinks he’s being a little ridiculous by getting worried. Hell, he thinks he’s being a little ridiculous by reading The Comic Book at all. But Pete seems to have learned a thing or two from it, so Patrick decides to give it a look. He digs through Pete’s duffel bags and eventually comes across the whole stack, worn around the corners and occasionally warped from moisture.
And hey, the thing is pretty accurate. Throughout the course of the ten volumes, which Patrick reads over the next two days, the main character, a woman named Idony, discovers her strange ability, becomes painfully confused, is forgotten by her family, tries to kill herself, tries to hurt others against her will, and finally, dies.
According to the story, every hero has a weakness. Idony’s is anger. If she gets angry, she will go into a trance and start kicking the ass of whoever happens to be near her. The more she cares about them, the harder she will try to hurt them. Especially if they were the ones to get her angry. The trick is, in this state, she can also be hurt. This makes Patrick think.
Pete is an insomniac. It’s only logical that his weakness is sleep. Well, sleep and Patrick.
But Idony, at the end of the story, she gets angry with herself and winds up dying.
Patrick glances up from the book, which he is reading by flashlight. He’s sitting on the floor of his basement on a sleeping bag, next to the bed, which Pete is sleeping on. He hasn’t shown any signs of acting up quite yet, but Patrick knows it will start soon. Especially if Patrick gets anywhere near him. They made this arrangement after the initial night, because even though Patrick insisted that it didn’t hurt when Pete kicked and punched him, Pete just felt too guilty. So after they finished making out (Patrick didn’t want to have sex in the basement of his house, with his parents only two floors up), Patrick would climb out of bed and into a sleeping bag on the floor. Pete had wanted to sleep on the floor, but Patrick insisted.
Patrick slides the stack of comic books back under the bed, where he’s been hiding them from Pete. He clicks off the flashlight and lays down in the sleeping bag.
Pete whimpers in his sleep and Patrick can hear the sound of the mattress creaking as he moves. Patrick just clenches his eyes shut tighter. He’s used to it by now.
[//]
After that, Patrick can’t look at Pete for a while, especially when he sleeps. He keeps seeing him vulnerable and bleeding, sometimes in his head and sometimes in his dreams. It usually starts out nice; Pete is smiling at him and sometimes their hands are touching, and then Pete is crumpled like a rag doll and bleeding from wide gashes. Sometimes there is no blood, but it’s understood that Pete is dead.
Only one thing is consistent: it is always Patrick’s fault
[//]
Three days later, Patrick is done with waiting. He doesn’t necessarily know what he’s doing (and he might be somewhat afraid for Pete’s safety), but he does know that the problem isn’t going to fix itself. Pete tries to talk Patrick out of sleeping in the same bed with him, but Patrick insists that this has to be dealt with, goddamnit, because if it isn’t, they are going to be dealing with it for the rest of their lives (and it’s only after he says it that Patrick realizes that hey, he is actually considering sharing a bed with Pete for the duration of that time). Pete smirks smugly at this and doesn’t argue further.
When the thrashing starts, Patrick is ready. He doesn’t know if he knows what to do, or if it’s some otherworldly force acting through him, but the second Pete starts acting up, Patrick wakes up and delivers a purposeful punch right to the middle of his face.
And hey, maybe the third time is the charm, or maybe it is some sort of combination of circumstances, or maybe whatever higher power in charge of this unfortunate chain of events finally decides that enough is enough. Either way, Patrick doesn’t care, because when Pete curses and his nose starts bleeding (just his nose, he’s not dying, thank god) and they both fumble around for the light on the night table, Patrick is never happier to see a belly button.
Patrick smiles and hands Pete a wad of tissues.
XI.
That morning, before Pete even wakes up, his cell phone starts buzzing, vibrating the entire night table, and calling Patrick’s attention. Instead of waking Pete up, he picks up the phone and answers it.
“Hello?” he croaks into the receiver, clearing his throat afterwards.
“Patrick?” It’s Mrs. Wentz. Patrick feels a flood of relief spilling into his stomach, all at once. This really is over.
“Yeah, hi. Um, Pete’s asleep, but I can wake-”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Wentz says, chuckling slightly. “I just, well. I feel like I haven’t spoken to him in ages, but I can wait. Just. Tell him to call me when he wakes up?”
“Sure thing,” Patrick says, smiling. “Have a good one.”
“Likewise. See you soon, Patrick.”
He hangs up the phone, then picks up his own to call Andy and Joe.
[//]
Over the course of the next three weeks, Pete is punched, kicked, pinched, slapped, and noogied more than he ever was in his life. Andy and Joe are so happy to have him back that they take every opportunity imaginable to cause him pain. Pete complains a lot, but Patrick secretly knows that he finds it endearing.
Things are back to normal, for the most part. Every once in a while, Pete will get some asshole trying to pick a fight with him, but Pete uses as much self-control he possesses and just walks away (most of the time).
“How much longer?” Pete asks Andy. It’s a month later, and things are back on track. They’re on their way to Sacramento and Pete’s getting restless.
“Go fuck yourself,” Andy says conversationally, and Joe snorts from the passenger’s seat. Patrick chuckles quietly and pulls Pete closer, so he’s settled comfortably between Patrick’s legs.
Joe turns around in his seat and looks at them. “Cozy back there, lovebirds?” He makes face, and Pete chucks Patrick’s hat in his general direction, laughing in that goofy, high-pitched way that makes Patrick’s chest feel warm.
On days like today, when they’re zooming between highway lines and Patrick can feel Pete’s warm weight on his chest and stomach, he laments the loss of forever. But as Pete presses his lips to Patrick’s neck-when he unknowingly tightens his hold on Patrick’s heart-Patrick thinks that he just might have found forever, all over again.
End.
A couple notes:
*The comic book they read is completely made up, so don't go looking for it. ;D musictoyourlips actually had the idea to have Pete look at a comic book to try and figure out what was going on with him. I made up the story (vague as it was), as well as Idony. Hopefully it sounded at least semi-convincing. XP
*In Patrick’s dream, Pete and Patrick were quoting from the comic The Sandman, written by Neil Gaiman. I actually only read the first volume, but I was looking for a good quote for the yearbook a few weeks ago and when I came across this one after doing a google search it stuck with me (plus, the same line is roughly quoted in an MCR song, and how cool is that?). I have no idea if Pete and Patrick are Neil Gaiman fans, or if they even read comic books, but I felt the line was appropriate considering the subject matter of the story.