The World’s Not Waiting (For Two Tired Lovers In A Crummy-Ass Apartment Block) (3/?)
Title: The World’s Not Waiting (For Two Tired Lovers In A Crummy-Ass Apartment Block) (3/?)
Rating: T
Beta:
xdearlin
Disclaimer: I do not own Fall Out Boy, The Hush Sound or any other bands or people mentioned in this story apart from my own fictional character(s). It is purely fiction.
Previous chapters: 1
2
Patrick awoke to something vibrating on his nose. He opened his eyes and saw his phone before him with the screen flashing “1 received message.”
It was from Pete. It read:
Hey Trickster!
Found a new band (thanks to Ry)
Called “The Hush Sound”
They’re awesome! Come
To the studio and we shall make
(Or listen to *shrugs*) sweet
Music together.
P. Pan! X
P.s.: Shorthand is for people
With no time on their hands
Patrick laughed at the last part of the text, and smiled to himself at the thought of his new job. Patrick Martin Stump, Producer. It had a nice ring to it. Things were looking up now. He had a new house, a new job and new friends. Especially Pete, the man who gave him the job and had introduced him to so many new people, like Brendon and his boyfriend Ryan, although they weren’t usually around very long. They tended to disappear for long periods of time…
Patrick preferred not to speculate.
But he and Pete had become very close very quickly and were more or less like brothers after 2 weeks of hanging out and one or two little arguments.
Well, Patrick, although it didn't seem like it, knew how to defend himself. And how to show Pete that, although he may not agree, Patrick knew best.
"Pete, what the hell?" Patrick quizzed, looking at the man in front of him, sat on the floor in his pitch black bedroom.
"Get out for a sec 'Trick." Pete said simply and rather darkly.
"You're scaring me dude,." Patrick said, sounding rather confused and stepped closer. "I kinda want to know what you're doing."
"I'm just thinking okay? Now be so kind as to fuck off." Pete spat.
"Don't tell me to fuck off Pete."
"I'll tell you what the hell I like, this is my house now fuck the hell off."
"No. And I'm gonna turn the light on as well."
No!!! 'Trick don't you dare-"
It was too late; Patrick flicked the light on and saw Pete holding a lighter and a cigarette. Patrick was almost speechless.
"What? You? I... You gave up!" He just managed to say.
"To this day I don't know how." Pete laughed half-heartedly. "I need one 'Trick. Fuck my lungs, you've gotta die sometime."
"Why?" Patrick asked.
"She's getting to me. Right under my skin. I can't take another minute..." Pete growled. He looked tired and utterly drained. He and Kirsten must've had another fight.
"Why the hell are you still here?" Patrick asked. "If this, whatever it is, you have with Kirsten isn't what you want, why are you here?!"
"For Trav, Disashi, Mark..." Pete listed quietly.
"What?" Patrick exclaimed. "What have they got to-"
"You wouldn't understand. I'll explain it to you the next time I'm thinking straight..." Pete replied.
"So, never?" Patrick asked. Pete half-laughed and looked at the cigarette in his hand.
"Where did you get that anyway?" Patrick asked.
"Stole it off Trav..." Pete muttered, slightly embarrassed. Patrick laughed.
"Give it." he said with a smile. Pete looked into Patrick's earnest eyes, then back to the cigarette in his hand, then back to Patrick. He sighed and handed over the cigarette. Patrick snapped it and threw it out of the window.
"You," Patrick decided. "Need an anti-drug."
"I," Pete replied then looked up at Patrick. "Have one."
He had come to terms with Pete’s irrational behaviour, dark moods and strange outbursts, just as Pete found out about Patrick’s love of singing show tunes randomly and his inability to see things from Pete’s point of view. Although, Patrick thought, Pete had probably come to terms with that in pretty much everyone he knew.
Remembering he’s just received a text and the sender was awaiting a reply, he sent back:
Hey Tink! :D
I’m on my way. Must
Find hat and I’ll be off!
See you soon!
Trick XxX
~PXxXP~
“Tink huh?” Pete asked Patrick as he walked through the door. Patrick shrugged.
“You’re both bitches..." he smirked. “Ad you look pretty in green.”
“Since when do I look pretty?” Pete scoffed.
“Aw sugah,” Patrick cooed in a fake southern accent. “You is beautiful just like the rest of us darlin’!” Pete cocked an eyebrow at his friend and shook his head.
“You worry me.” He said. “I think the constant hat wearing is cutting off the blood circulation to your head…”
Patrick laughed and absentmindedly started humming, “In My Head” by No Doubt.
“I feel sorry for gay guys sometimes,” Pete commented. “They miss out on stuff like Gwen Stefani…”
“Yeah, but straight guys miss out on stuff like William Beckett.” Patrick replied.
“True.” Pete agreed. “I wouldn’t say no.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Patrick asked. An awkward silence and passing thoughts of William Beckett floated through both men’s heads. Pete looked at Patrick and Patrick looked at his shoes.
“You look nervous.” Pete commented. “Let’s go meet the guys huh?”
----------
“Trickster,” Pete began. “Meet Greta, Bob, Chris and Darren.”
Patrick shook all of their hands nervously and got so carried away he shook Pete’s hand.
“I know I’m like, your boss or whatever,” Pete laughed. “But chill.”
“You know you’ve had an interesting life when your boss is a guy that wears eyeliner and girls’ jeans.”
“This,” Pete said, pointing to his eyes. “And these jeans are prime fucking fashion dude. Believe the hype.”
“More like believe the height short-ass.” Patrick grinned. “You’re shorter than your girlfriend….”
“Psssshh… my hair is taller than you.” Pete shrugged.
“Uh, feeling neglected here.” Bob interjected.
“Sorry guys!” Patrick apologised. “So, let’s hear your stuff then!”
--------
They were pretty good. Damn, they were better than good, they sounded awesome. But Pete was concentrating more on the strange magnetic aura his friend Patrick seemed to emanate. Before he really knew what he was doing, his arms were around Patrick’s back and his chin was resting on Patrick’s shoulder. The fantastic music in the background along with the warmth of Patrick’s body made him feel so… contented. So beyond happy it was serene. He hadn't been this happy in ages. All because of one guy. Though, Patrick was quite a guy. If it wasn't for him, Pete didn't know how he would have gotten through last Friday...
"What's wrong with you?" Kirsten asked Pete.
"Nothing..." Pete lied and lay on the sofa, flicking through channels too fast to know what came on.
"If this is about us not staying in Chicago this Christmas..." Kirsten said in a warning tone.
"But why the hell not?! Where are we going?" Pete asked.
"The Bahamas..." Kirsten replied. Pete nearly exploded.
"What?! It doesn't snow in The Bahamas!" he fumed.
"Precisely." Kirsten nodded.
"You're insane." Pete concluded. "There is no such thing as a hot Christmas."
"There is if you're in The Bahamas."
"Fuck The Bahamas."
Kirsten's blood was boiling at this point.
"Why are you so stubborn?!" she asked.
"If we were like, going because you have family there or something, I’m down with that," Pete replied. "But I'm not gonna have no snow at Christmas for no reason."
"What about me?" Kirsten demanded.
"You're insane," Pete reiterated. "You go."
"And leave you in Chicago by yourself?" Kirsten exclaimed. "To do God knows what..."
"It scares me how your mind works..." Pete sighed. "So, you want me to come so you can keep tabs on me?"
Kirsten said nothing.
"Why don't you trust me?" Pete roared. "What have I done?"
Still she said nothing.
"Jesus Christ!" Pete sighed. "You piss me off so much it's unreal!"
"So get the fuck out!" Kirsten dared Pete. "Pack up and leave! Now!"
Pete stared at Kirsten, hard-faced and ready as ever to walk. But if he took one step out of that door, his dream was gone. Decaydance records, gone. He looked down at his feet, and without a word, walked into their bedroom and slammed the door. He rummaged under the bed and found a pair of his jeans. He dived into the pockets and pulled out a lighter and one cigarette.
2 years. Could he break that?
What seemed like days passed by. All of them with Pete encased in a sea of thoughts. His mind and his heart screaming “don’t”, his body screaming “do”.
"Hey, you in here man?" a familiar voice said through the door.
Shit.
"Pete, what the hell?"
"Goddamned anti-drug..." Pete thought with a smile. "That would've been the best hit I’d ever had..."
Everything seemed so simple with Patrick. Then he woke up and remembered Patrick was a guy and it would all become complicated again. Being in love with a guy was just…
No. He wasn’t in love with Patrick! They were just friends! He wasn’t in love with a guy at all! He had a girlfriend and a pretty damn hot one too!! He was straight.
Right?
Well the whole fashion loving, appearance obsession thing and the dream in 10th grade about Mikey and his boyfriend Frank would make a whole lot of sense…
But he wasn’t gay. He was sure of it.
Kind of.
Patrick’s pretty strawberry blonde hair looked like it was glowing gold where the sun hit it. It made his eyes look even greener.
-----------
“So you guys come up next week and we’ll start recording!” Patrick said brightly and showed the band the door.
“Thanks.” Darren nodded. “Really appreciate this.”
“Don’t thank me,” Patrick laughed. “It was our buddy Ryan who heard about you. You’ll see him next week, provided he doesn’t disappear…”
“Still, thanks for listening and everything.” Bob said gratefully.
“And you and Pete make a really cute couple.” Greta added. Patrick blinked unsurely, then laughed nervously.
“Us? No way. Pete’s straight.” He corrected her.
“Dude,” Chris said. “With that hair and those jeans? There’s no way.”
“Well whatever you guys are to each other.” Greta interjected, giving Chris a “be-quiet-and-sit-in-the-corner” look. “You looked really happy together. Really happy.”
~PXxXP~
“Are you gonna be alright going back to your house today?" Patrick asked Pete as the got into Pete's car.
"I've survived a while without you 'Trick," Pete laughed. "I think I’ll be fine."
Patrick's face fell and he said a small, "Oh, ok..." he wanted Pete to stay at his again. It was sweet the way he slept. He looked so innocent and almost vulnerable, like he needed to be taken care of.
Was it weird he'd watched Pete sleeping for a little while the last time he stayed over? Most likely yes.
"Hey," Pete said suddenly. "Eat with me and Kirsten tonight!" Patrick shook his head and held up his hands.
"No offence, but I’m afraid she'll like, devour my soul through her mind or something if I interfere on your quality time." he shrugged.
"Aw, she's not that bad." Pete grinned. "At least, not all the time."
"I'll give it a miss anyway." Patrick insisted.
"I refuse to let you eat frozen lasagne or Domino's Pizza again." Pete insisted also. Patrick thought about it, and agreed.
"Fine. Just because I can't say no to you." Patrick grinned.
"Coz I’m so irresistible to you." Pete purred playfully.
"Are you coming on to me?" Patrick asked innocently.
"What gave you that impression?" Pete asked just an innocently, batting his eyelashes at the man sat beside him. Patrick shook his head.
"Listen Tink," he began. "You're a pretty little girl but I just don't swing that way."
"Why am I suddenly a girl?" Pete asked.
"The make-up, the jeans..." Patrick listed.
"They're not even that tight!" Pete exclaimed. "Look!" and he latched one of Patrick's hands onto his right leg. Patrick stiffened and all the blood in his body flew to his head.
"Why, may I ask," Patrick asked, trying to draw attention away from his beetroot red face. "Are you forcing my hand onto your leg?"
Pete merely grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.
"This is rape!!" Patrick insisted.
"You can't rape the willing." Pete replied with a devious smirk.
"Of all the times for him to be right..." Patrick thought with a defeated sigh.
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