The World's Not Waiting (For Two Tired Lovers In A Crummy-Ass Apartment Block)(13a/16)
Title:The World's Not Waiting (For Two Tired Lovers In A Crummy-Ass Apartment Block)
Rating: T+
Summary: A tired Pete Wentz, a scheming girlfriend, and the ultimate complex relationship. Throw in a new neighbor in the form of Patrick and an attraction that everyone sees except the two men in question (and Travis but what does he notice?). Stir in my mind for months and then spill all over livejournal. What do you get? Probably the yummiest fic i've ever written! ^____^
Beta: paper_teenheart
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original character
Previous Chapters:
1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6/ 7/ 8/ 9/ 10/ 11/ 12
Patrick turned over the house looking for his car keys while Pete just laughed at him for being so flustered.
“If you search like a crazy person you won't find anything,” he told Patrick as he was getting dressed, watching his boyfriend run around the house screaming.
“I’m not a crazy person,” Patrick growled, still searching frantically and Pete just smiled at him, shaking his head and muttering something about Patrick reminding him of a guy that used to walk past his old school every afternoon, looking for a 10 foot tall cat called Whiskers. At any other time Patrick would have speared him in the stomach but he was too distracted. He wanted those keys back fucking now, while hiding his obsession and trying to be more flippant with his searching but failing miserably.
“Aw, come on gorgeous,” Pete smiled, “It’s only a little while down the road. Let’s walk to breakfast, huh? Then we can catch a movie and make-out in the back seats and pretend we’re fifteen again.”
“If I was fifteen, oh my God that would make you twenty!! How do you feel, paedophile?” Patrick said. He had this uncanny ability to still be funny while halfway under a bed.
“Oh shit, that’s fucking alliterated with my name too,” Pete laughed.
“Anyway,” Patrick said as he pulled himself out from under the bed to stand up and looked at the ground, slightly unnerved by the fact that Pete was giving him the eye after he’d just popped up covered in dust with his hat at a strange angle. Pete had fucking weird kinks. “What happened to Mr. ‘I need my goddamn coffee brought to me’, oh strangely cheery this morning Pete?”
Pete hummed thoughtfully and slipped his hands into Patrick’s back pockets, leaving a path of kisses from Patrick’s cheek to his shoulder. “Apart from the fact that it’s not the morning anymore, I’m happier in the mornings nowadays. It’s probably because we’re getting up and having breakfast at like noon. Speaking of which, it’s noon-oh-one. You go get your shoes on, wait for me to finish putting on my face and we’ll walk to Starbucks, ‘kay ‘Trick?”
Patrick nodded in defeat, ignoring the fact that noon-oh-one wasn’t a time, and leaned his head back to give Pete a kiss before going to the living room to get his shoes.
Actually, he went to give the kitchen and the living room the once over. He knew they would end up walking but he wanted those keys, just for principal. He liked things like closure. It’s very… closed.
While he was in the kitchen he noticed a pile of mail from last week he hadn’t looked over and cringed. Bills. Pete and his late night calls. Mainly to Panic. They were playing a gig all the way in London and Pete kept calling to check on them. Patrick found this rather sweet. Or as sweet as you could find it when you’re half asleep. He would always kind of listen before he drifted off, hearing Pete talk about how kind-of-sort-of worried he was when really he was constantly worrying about whether they had been eaten or not. Pete was probably his most open with Patrick, or at least Patrick assumed so. They shared so much with each other, apart from one or two secrets but who didn’t have secrets? Patrick investigated the vast pile of letters and found one… addressed to Pete? No one actually knew Pete had permanently moved into Patrick’s house. They had decided on it about a week ago since the realisation that, apart from the fact that Pete was comfortable there, Pete was sort of kind of way too poor to afford a new place right now but he had enough money to split Patrick’s rent so everybody wins.
Patrick wasn’t one to snoop but he was curious, if it looked like it was none of his business he would put it away and pretend he hadn’t seen it, but a little peek wouldn’t hurt.
“I wonder who it’s…--” Patrick started and then caught the name at the end of the letter. Kirsten. “Oh.”
He scanned through the short and poorly scrawled letter and felt his stomach churn with worry and shock. That promise she had made to Pete after their first argument, she kept it. In three weeks her dad would be withdrawing all funding to Decaydance Records and reclaiming the site of the building (‘i.e.: knocking it down’ Kirsten had written in bit angry letters). Patrick looked at the date of the letter, slightly enraged Pete hadn’t mentioned this to him.
It had been written just under three weeks ago.
Slightly enraged? Patrick was livid.
-----------
“Hey, you’ve still not got your shoes on!” Pete noted as he walked into the living room to see Patrick sat on the sofa in the living room.
“Pete, how much do you trust me with?” Patrick asked. “As in, stuff about you.”
“I think I’ve told you everything about me that is relevant, ‘Trick,” Pete said thoughtfully.
“If something bad happened to you, something that involved me too but I didn’t know, you would fill me in wouldn’t you?” Patrick asked.
“Of course, Patrick! Why wouldn’t I?” Pete said so sincerely it made Patrick feel sick. He threw the letter, all scrunched up, at Pete and said coldly,
“What about this?”
Pete picked it up and the look on his face showed that he instantly knew what it was. He looked up at Patrick from the letter and asked quietly,
“Why did you go through my mail?”
“Okay, what the fuck?!”
Patrick stood up sharply and squared up to Pete.
“You leave this without telling me for three fucking weeks! This is happening in what, four days and you weren’t going to tell me?!” he exploded and Pete shrugged.
“Covering it up doesn’t make it go away…” Patrick said, shaking his head at Pete who shrugged.
“It’s close enough,” he muttered, looking at the ground and kicking imaginary dirt. “Besides, I was gonna tell you… tomorrow…”
“Or the next day, or the next day, or the next day or the next-oh, wait, that would be too late wouldn’t it?” Patrick barked.
“Hey, don’t shout at me like that. I had a good reason for not telling you! I didn’t want to spoil everything like it has just now!” Pete shot back and Patrick looked at him with the utmost sympathy.
“It wouldn’t have spoiled a thing, Pete! I’m not mad about this… shitty little letter from some desperate harpy! I’m mad because you didn’t tell me about it!” he assured Pete who shook his head.
“You’re still yelling… You’re still fucking yelling at me like I’m a child!!” he said, ironically, like a child. Patrick smiled comfortingly and put his arms around him.
“Hey, I’ll stop yelling okay,” he said, much quieter now. “I just feel a little betrayed and… look, forget it. All I want is an apology and we’ll move on.”
“I doesn’t sound like you will,” Pete muttered.
“I will, I promise,” Patrick assured him.
“You’re lying!” He exclaimed. “You’re lying and you expect me to tell the truth to you?”
“I just want to forget this ever happened, Pete!” Patrick said desperately, since he hated arguing with Pete. They had only ever argued once before but he didn’t like it because when they argued, they did it big.
“Covering it up doesn’t make it go away…” Pete mimicked Patrick who scowled and retorted,
“Like you covered up that letter.”
Pete looked at him, hurt and angry and spat back,
“Yeah, just like you covered up your little tryst with Gabe!”
Patrick was speechless and couldn’t find the words to remedy that. When Pete pushed past him he found them.
“Where are you going?” he called, not looking at Pete.
“Out.” Pete replied abruptly and slammed the door.
Patrick decided he wasn’t going to go after him. In fact, he was going to wait until Pete came crawling back to him for being such a jackass.
He didn’t come back that night. Or the next morning. Patrick decided it was time to panic a little.
He decided it was Kirsten's fault.
XxX
“Pete? It’s Patrick. I’m sorry. Can we talk? Call me.”
“Pete?! Where are you? Seriously, it’s not funny. Call me.”
“Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third! Yeah, I used it! Call me as soon as you get this!”
“Pete Wentz you little shit! Call me the fuck up now!!!!”
“Okay Pete, look, even if you’re not gonna call; let me know you’re okay at least.”
“…I miss you ‘Tink… get back to me soon.”
Patrick would have contemplated the anger he was feeling about finding his keys in his pocket if he wasn’t too busy panicking over Pete. He had been to Joe’s house, Andy’s house, Travis’ and had called up the rest of Gym Class Heroes from his house. He had been to see or had called all of The Hush Sound and called Panic! at the disco, who were at a signing in Vegas, just to se if they had heard from Pete, while continually phoning Pete all the way and being ignored, and was currently just leaving from HeyChris’ house and he promised to ask Dirty if he’d seen anything too. He was on his way to Pete’s parents’ house now and he felt ill with worry. He wanted Pete there with him. Somewhere he could see him and talk to him… and be talked to.
He was still a little mad at Pete, but it had mostly subsided now. He wished Pete would talk to him about it. About what he wanted to do and about whether he even fucking cared because it didn’t seem like it. Then again, Pete was pretty good at hiding stuff. Just like he wasn’t… he still felt sick from when Pete threw… that… in his face. He didn’t think Pete would ever sink that low, but then it was his fault and it was all so messed up Patrick nearly missed Pete’s old house.
He pressed the buzzer and waited until Pete’s brother Andrew answered the door.
“Um, hi,” Patrick waved shyly.
“Oh, hi Patrick!” Andrew smiled, looking slightly shocked. Yes, he did turn up out of the blue but the shock was probably because a) he wasn’t with Pete and b) he must have looked awful. He was pretty much exhausted physically and emotionally from driving around so much and panicking.
“Pete’s boyfriend is here? Bring him inside Andy!” Pete’s mother called to Andrew from the house. Andrew turned back to Patrick’s startled face, laughing.
“Sorry, my mum likes to presume things…” he apologised.
“Presume nothing!” Pete’s mother interrupted, gesturing from Patrick to come inside. “To be fair, we knew he was a little on the friendly side, but he told me himself! No one believes me! His brother and sister think I imagined it and his father just plain doesn’t believe Pete would admit to it.”
Patrick, still startled, said to Andrew,
“Well, hate to break it to you but your mum is telling the truth.”
“Ha! What did I say Andy? Mothers know all! Why are you still outside Patrick? Come in, come in!”
--------------
“You haven’t seen him since yesterday?” Pete’s mum inquired and Patrick shook his head. Hemmingway was looking up at him curiously, as if to say, “Where’s Pete?” with his eyes.
“You tell me.” Patrick thought back to Hemmingway.
“Well, he hasn’t spoken to any of us. I’ll call him now if you like?” Pete’s sister offered.
“Please,” Patrick accepted and Pete’s sister gave him a sympathetic look before calling up Pete.
“Hey Pete!” Pete’s sister said brightly, then waited for Pete to stop talking.
“I’m fine. Listen, where are you?” she continued, then she knotted her brow in confusion while Pete was talking.
“Who’s Patrick?” she asked, and then signalled at everyone to just play along and stay silent. Patrick frowned at this, not listening as the conversation continued. Did he really not want to be found that much? Did Patrick really handle the situation that badly?
“He said he’s… with Mikey?” Pete’s sister said and Patrick felt himself involuntarily clenching his fist to stop himself punching a wall. Goddamn it why hadn't he thought of that?
“Ah, I see,” Patrick said quietly, getting up to leave. “I’ll go to Bob’s house and see if they are there or something. Thanks for helping me.”
“Call us when you find him!” Pete’s mum called after Patrick.
“Will do.” Patrick called back, an audible stain in his voice. “See you soon.”
XxX
“You’re with Mikey, huh?! Fine. Get everything off your chest regardless of how I might feel. You had better not be where I think you are either.”
“That stupid, selfish, big-headed, childish little fucker!!” Patrick screamed while he drove angrily to Bob’s house. “I’ll bet he’s fucking throwing himself at that kid!! Like my feelings don’t matter for shit!”
Before long he was parked outside of Bob’s house and knocked on the door to see if Bob was in.
He was greeted by a startled blonde man stood in the doorway holding… a duster?
“Oh… hi Patrick,” Bob said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking extremely embarrassed. “I was just tidying up a little...”
“Huh…” Patrick said thoughtfully. “I see... Uh, can I come in?”
Bob eyed him, and then his eyes fixed on Patrick’s battered black and white vans.
“Those. Off. Now,” He said sternly and Patrick lifted his eyebrow.
“Aw, come on. They’re clean! Kind of,” Patrick pleaded. Bob shook his head and told Patrick,
“There is no way I’m letting you into my house after I just vacuumed the fucking floor and oh my God is that gum on the bottom of those shoes? Okay, take those off or we’ll talk outside.”
“Okay, okay,” Patrick admitted defeat and started taking off his shoes. “by the way, is Mikey in?”
Bob looked at Patrick like there was something on his face.
“He left. Two weeks ago. He’s in New Jersey.”
“Oh, okay,” Patrick nodded and stepped into the house, shoeless.
“Wait, He’s WHERE?!”
XxX
“There’s no way Pete’s in Jersey,” Bob reassured Patrick. “He may be a bit of a moron but seriously, he’s not going to waste money on a flight to Jersey even if he really wants to.”
“He told his sister he was with Mikey!” Patrick exclaimed.
“He was lying then, to get you off his tail,” Bob tried and Patrick shook his head.
“I can’t even deny I’m not out of my mind with jealously because I totally am. I know how much Pete used to like Mikey and I get how good he is to talk to but it’s like, does Pete not even take into consideration that I might find him running off to Jersey to find Mikey and pour his heart out to him and not me a little disheartening.”
He felt tears welling up in his eyes and he took off his glasses to clean his face.
“I’m shit at being mad at him,” he laughed. “Asshole…”
“Do you want Mikey’s number?” Bob asked Patrick and handed the strawberry-blonde his phone. Patrick nodded, sniffing and feeling a little bit pitiful, avoiding Bob’s gaze. He really didn’t want any sympathy right now. He just wanted Pete.
Patrick listened to the phone ring, preparing to shout Mikey down but after one calm, ‘hello?’ he kind of understood why you would go to him if you were in the kind of state Pete was in.
“Put me on to Pete, please,” Patrick said a little bit sharply.
“Um, hasn’t Pete gone home yet?” Mikey asked and Patrick’s stomach just fell.
“W-what? Isn’t he over there with you?” Patrick asked worriedly.
“No… He called me and I told him to fuck off and call you but I’m guessing he hasn’t,” Mikey replied.
“No he hasn’t…” Patrick said through gritted teeth and sighed loudly. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning…”
“That idiot!” Mikey cursed. “What, is he still ignoring your calls?”
“Yes and I have no idea where he is,” Patrick sighed. “I’m worried out of my mind, Mikey. Did he say where he was?”
“Um… I remember him saying something about being at the studio…” Mikey tried to remember.
“I checked there,” Patrick said.
“What about his parents’ house?”
“Just been there.”
“Where haven’t you been?”
“…That’s a good question…”
“Wow. Um… Look, I don’t know. He might be moving around a lot but get Bob to call him. See if he picks up.”
Patrick contemplated this for a short while.
“Okay,” he decided. “I’ve tried everything else.”
Mikey made a sympathetic noise at the other end of the phone.
“I warned him not to screw you two up,” he told Patrick, “I told him he’d struck gold.”
“Thanks,” Patrick said sadly,“well, bye.”
“Bye,” Mikey echoed and they hung up. Patrick handed Bob’s phone back to Bob and said,
“Call Pete, but put it on speakerphone.”
Bob nodded and did just that. They sat tensely, waiting for the phone to stop ringing and Pete’s voice to come through. The phone was ringing for so long Patrick nearly gave up hope until a voice that he had not heard in two days, and sounded like they hadn’t slept in that long either, cut through the monotonous ringing with a scratchy, ‘hello?’
“Hey, Pete!” Bob said brightly. “Dude, you sound God-awful, where are you?”
“I, uh, went to New Jersey. I’m over at Mikey’s house and I just got here so I’m feeling kind of travelled-out.” Pete blatantly lied and Patrick couldn’t contain the outrage bubbling within him.
“No you’re not you fucking liar. I just got off the phone with Mikey,” he barked and the line went silent, but not dead.
“P-Patrick?” Pete stammered. “You called Mikey?”
“And everyone else you know, are acquainted with and or have brushed past in a hallway somewhere,” Patrick growled. “I kind of care about your wellbeing.”
“…I’m sorry, ‘Trick,” Pete mumbled and Patrick was confused as to why Pete hadn’t hung up yet, since he’d been dodging Patrick’s calls all day.
“Save it. Where are you and don’t lie,” he said sharply and Pete made a nervous noise in the back of his throat.
“I uh… I’m sat in that park I took you through on the way to my old house,” he confessed.
Patrick cursed himself under his breath for not checking there and sighed, taking his hat off his head to wipe his forehead and putting it back on again.
“Okay, I’ll see you there. Please don’t move,” he sighed finally.
“Okay,” Pete croaked and then there was silence for a short while. “I love you, ‘Trick.”
“…I love you too,” Patrick replied and gestured to Bob to hang up, then got up to leave.
He prayed to God that Pete would keep his promise and not move. He just wanted to see him, even if it was to say goodbye which he prayed it wasn’t, he just wanted to see Pete.
He maintained this was all still Kirsten's fault.
13b
Rating: T+
Summary: A tired Pete Wentz, a scheming girlfriend, and the ultimate complex relationship. Throw in a new neighbor in the form of Patrick and an attraction that everyone sees except the two men in question (and Travis but what does he notice?). Stir in my mind for months and then spill all over livejournal. What do you get? Probably the yummiest fic i've ever written! ^____^
Beta: paper_teenheart
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original character
Previous Chapters:
1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6/ 7/ 8/ 9/ 10/ 11/ 12
Patrick turned over the house looking for his car keys while Pete just laughed at him for being so flustered.
“If you search like a crazy person you won't find anything,” he told Patrick as he was getting dressed, watching his boyfriend run around the house screaming.
“I’m not a crazy person,” Patrick growled, still searching frantically and Pete just smiled at him, shaking his head and muttering something about Patrick reminding him of a guy that used to walk past his old school every afternoon, looking for a 10 foot tall cat called Whiskers. At any other time Patrick would have speared him in the stomach but he was too distracted. He wanted those keys back fucking now, while hiding his obsession and trying to be more flippant with his searching but failing miserably.
“Aw, come on gorgeous,” Pete smiled, “It’s only a little while down the road. Let’s walk to breakfast, huh? Then we can catch a movie and make-out in the back seats and pretend we’re fifteen again.”
“If I was fifteen, oh my God that would make you twenty!! How do you feel, paedophile?” Patrick said. He had this uncanny ability to still be funny while halfway under a bed.
“Oh shit, that’s fucking alliterated with my name too,” Pete laughed.
“Anyway,” Patrick said as he pulled himself out from under the bed to stand up and looked at the ground, slightly unnerved by the fact that Pete was giving him the eye after he’d just popped up covered in dust with his hat at a strange angle. Pete had fucking weird kinks. “What happened to Mr. ‘I need my goddamn coffee brought to me’, oh strangely cheery this morning Pete?”
Pete hummed thoughtfully and slipped his hands into Patrick’s back pockets, leaving a path of kisses from Patrick’s cheek to his shoulder. “Apart from the fact that it’s not the morning anymore, I’m happier in the mornings nowadays. It’s probably because we’re getting up and having breakfast at like noon. Speaking of which, it’s noon-oh-one. You go get your shoes on, wait for me to finish putting on my face and we’ll walk to Starbucks, ‘kay ‘Trick?”
Patrick nodded in defeat, ignoring the fact that noon-oh-one wasn’t a time, and leaned his head back to give Pete a kiss before going to the living room to get his shoes.
Actually, he went to give the kitchen and the living room the once over. He knew they would end up walking but he wanted those keys, just for principal. He liked things like closure. It’s very… closed.
While he was in the kitchen he noticed a pile of mail from last week he hadn’t looked over and cringed. Bills. Pete and his late night calls. Mainly to Panic. They were playing a gig all the way in London and Pete kept calling to check on them. Patrick found this rather sweet. Or as sweet as you could find it when you’re half asleep. He would always kind of listen before he drifted off, hearing Pete talk about how kind-of-sort-of worried he was when really he was constantly worrying about whether they had been eaten or not. Pete was probably his most open with Patrick, or at least Patrick assumed so. They shared so much with each other, apart from one or two secrets but who didn’t have secrets? Patrick investigated the vast pile of letters and found one… addressed to Pete? No one actually knew Pete had permanently moved into Patrick’s house. They had decided on it about a week ago since the realisation that, apart from the fact that Pete was comfortable there, Pete was sort of kind of way too poor to afford a new place right now but he had enough money to split Patrick’s rent so everybody wins.
Patrick wasn’t one to snoop but he was curious, if it looked like it was none of his business he would put it away and pretend he hadn’t seen it, but a little peek wouldn’t hurt.
“I wonder who it’s…--” Patrick started and then caught the name at the end of the letter. Kirsten. “Oh.”
He scanned through the short and poorly scrawled letter and felt his stomach churn with worry and shock. That promise she had made to Pete after their first argument, she kept it. In three weeks her dad would be withdrawing all funding to Decaydance Records and reclaiming the site of the building (‘i.e.: knocking it down’ Kirsten had written in bit angry letters). Patrick looked at the date of the letter, slightly enraged Pete hadn’t mentioned this to him.
It had been written just under three weeks ago.
Slightly enraged? Patrick was livid.
-----------
“Hey, you’ve still not got your shoes on!” Pete noted as he walked into the living room to see Patrick sat on the sofa in the living room.
“Pete, how much do you trust me with?” Patrick asked. “As in, stuff about you.”
“I think I’ve told you everything about me that is relevant, ‘Trick,” Pete said thoughtfully.
“If something bad happened to you, something that involved me too but I didn’t know, you would fill me in wouldn’t you?” Patrick asked.
“Of course, Patrick! Why wouldn’t I?” Pete said so sincerely it made Patrick feel sick. He threw the letter, all scrunched up, at Pete and said coldly,
“What about this?”
Pete picked it up and the look on his face showed that he instantly knew what it was. He looked up at Patrick from the letter and asked quietly,
“Why did you go through my mail?”
“Okay, what the fuck?!”
Patrick stood up sharply and squared up to Pete.
“You leave this without telling me for three fucking weeks! This is happening in what, four days and you weren’t going to tell me?!” he exploded and Pete shrugged.
“Covering it up doesn’t make it go away…” Patrick said, shaking his head at Pete who shrugged.
“It’s close enough,” he muttered, looking at the ground and kicking imaginary dirt. “Besides, I was gonna tell you… tomorrow…”
“Or the next day, or the next day, or the next day or the next-oh, wait, that would be too late wouldn’t it?” Patrick barked.
“Hey, don’t shout at me like that. I had a good reason for not telling you! I didn’t want to spoil everything like it has just now!” Pete shot back and Patrick looked at him with the utmost sympathy.
“It wouldn’t have spoiled a thing, Pete! I’m not mad about this… shitty little letter from some desperate harpy! I’m mad because you didn’t tell me about it!” he assured Pete who shook his head.
“You’re still yelling… You’re still fucking yelling at me like I’m a child!!” he said, ironically, like a child. Patrick smiled comfortingly and put his arms around him.
“Hey, I’ll stop yelling okay,” he said, much quieter now. “I just feel a little betrayed and… look, forget it. All I want is an apology and we’ll move on.”
“I doesn’t sound like you will,” Pete muttered.
“I will, I promise,” Patrick assured him.
“You’re lying!” He exclaimed. “You’re lying and you expect me to tell the truth to you?”
“I just want to forget this ever happened, Pete!” Patrick said desperately, since he hated arguing with Pete. They had only ever argued once before but he didn’t like it because when they argued, they did it big.
“Covering it up doesn’t make it go away…” Pete mimicked Patrick who scowled and retorted,
“Like you covered up that letter.”
Pete looked at him, hurt and angry and spat back,
“Yeah, just like you covered up your little tryst with Gabe!”
Patrick was speechless and couldn’t find the words to remedy that. When Pete pushed past him he found them.
“Where are you going?” he called, not looking at Pete.
“Out.” Pete replied abruptly and slammed the door.
Patrick decided he wasn’t going to go after him. In fact, he was going to wait until Pete came crawling back to him for being such a jackass.
He didn’t come back that night. Or the next morning. Patrick decided it was time to panic a little.
He decided it was Kirsten's fault.
XxX
“Pete? It’s Patrick. I’m sorry. Can we talk? Call me.”
“Pete?! Where are you? Seriously, it’s not funny. Call me.”
“Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third! Yeah, I used it! Call me as soon as you get this!”
“Pete Wentz you little shit! Call me the fuck up now!!!!”
“Okay Pete, look, even if you’re not gonna call; let me know you’re okay at least.”
“…I miss you ‘Tink… get back to me soon.”
Patrick would have contemplated the anger he was feeling about finding his keys in his pocket if he wasn’t too busy panicking over Pete. He had been to Joe’s house, Andy’s house, Travis’ and had called up the rest of Gym Class Heroes from his house. He had been to see or had called all of The Hush Sound and called Panic! at the disco, who were at a signing in Vegas, just to se if they had heard from Pete, while continually phoning Pete all the way and being ignored, and was currently just leaving from HeyChris’ house and he promised to ask Dirty if he’d seen anything too. He was on his way to Pete’s parents’ house now and he felt ill with worry. He wanted Pete there with him. Somewhere he could see him and talk to him… and be talked to.
He was still a little mad at Pete, but it had mostly subsided now. He wished Pete would talk to him about it. About what he wanted to do and about whether he even fucking cared because it didn’t seem like it. Then again, Pete was pretty good at hiding stuff. Just like he wasn’t… he still felt sick from when Pete threw… that… in his face. He didn’t think Pete would ever sink that low, but then it was his fault and it was all so messed up Patrick nearly missed Pete’s old house.
He pressed the buzzer and waited until Pete’s brother Andrew answered the door.
“Um, hi,” Patrick waved shyly.
“Oh, hi Patrick!” Andrew smiled, looking slightly shocked. Yes, he did turn up out of the blue but the shock was probably because a) he wasn’t with Pete and b) he must have looked awful. He was pretty much exhausted physically and emotionally from driving around so much and panicking.
“Pete’s boyfriend is here? Bring him inside Andy!” Pete’s mother called to Andrew from the house. Andrew turned back to Patrick’s startled face, laughing.
“Sorry, my mum likes to presume things…” he apologised.
“Presume nothing!” Pete’s mother interrupted, gesturing from Patrick to come inside. “To be fair, we knew he was a little on the friendly side, but he told me himself! No one believes me! His brother and sister think I imagined it and his father just plain doesn’t believe Pete would admit to it.”
Patrick, still startled, said to Andrew,
“Well, hate to break it to you but your mum is telling the truth.”
“Ha! What did I say Andy? Mothers know all! Why are you still outside Patrick? Come in, come in!”
--------------
“You haven’t seen him since yesterday?” Pete’s mum inquired and Patrick shook his head. Hemmingway was looking up at him curiously, as if to say, “Where’s Pete?” with his eyes.
“You tell me.” Patrick thought back to Hemmingway.
“Well, he hasn’t spoken to any of us. I’ll call him now if you like?” Pete’s sister offered.
“Please,” Patrick accepted and Pete’s sister gave him a sympathetic look before calling up Pete.
“Hey Pete!” Pete’s sister said brightly, then waited for Pete to stop talking.
“I’m fine. Listen, where are you?” she continued, then she knotted her brow in confusion while Pete was talking.
“Who’s Patrick?” she asked, and then signalled at everyone to just play along and stay silent. Patrick frowned at this, not listening as the conversation continued. Did he really not want to be found that much? Did Patrick really handle the situation that badly?
“He said he’s… with Mikey?” Pete’s sister said and Patrick felt himself involuntarily clenching his fist to stop himself punching a wall. Goddamn it why hadn't he thought of that?
“Ah, I see,” Patrick said quietly, getting up to leave. “I’ll go to Bob’s house and see if they are there or something. Thanks for helping me.”
“Call us when you find him!” Pete’s mum called after Patrick.
“Will do.” Patrick called back, an audible stain in his voice. “See you soon.”
XxX
“You’re with Mikey, huh?! Fine. Get everything off your chest regardless of how I might feel. You had better not be where I think you are either.”
“That stupid, selfish, big-headed, childish little fucker!!” Patrick screamed while he drove angrily to Bob’s house. “I’ll bet he’s fucking throwing himself at that kid!! Like my feelings don’t matter for shit!”
Before long he was parked outside of Bob’s house and knocked on the door to see if Bob was in.
He was greeted by a startled blonde man stood in the doorway holding… a duster?
“Oh… hi Patrick,” Bob said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking extremely embarrassed. “I was just tidying up a little...”
“Huh…” Patrick said thoughtfully. “I see... Uh, can I come in?”
Bob eyed him, and then his eyes fixed on Patrick’s battered black and white vans.
“Those. Off. Now,” He said sternly and Patrick lifted his eyebrow.
“Aw, come on. They’re clean! Kind of,” Patrick pleaded. Bob shook his head and told Patrick,
“There is no way I’m letting you into my house after I just vacuumed the fucking floor and oh my God is that gum on the bottom of those shoes? Okay, take those off or we’ll talk outside.”
“Okay, okay,” Patrick admitted defeat and started taking off his shoes. “by the way, is Mikey in?”
Bob looked at Patrick like there was something on his face.
“He left. Two weeks ago. He’s in New Jersey.”
“Oh, okay,” Patrick nodded and stepped into the house, shoeless.
“Wait, He’s WHERE?!”
XxX
“There’s no way Pete’s in Jersey,” Bob reassured Patrick. “He may be a bit of a moron but seriously, he’s not going to waste money on a flight to Jersey even if he really wants to.”
“He told his sister he was with Mikey!” Patrick exclaimed.
“He was lying then, to get you off his tail,” Bob tried and Patrick shook his head.
“I can’t even deny I’m not out of my mind with jealously because I totally am. I know how much Pete used to like Mikey and I get how good he is to talk to but it’s like, does Pete not even take into consideration that I might find him running off to Jersey to find Mikey and pour his heart out to him and not me a little disheartening.”
He felt tears welling up in his eyes and he took off his glasses to clean his face.
“I’m shit at being mad at him,” he laughed. “Asshole…”
“Do you want Mikey’s number?” Bob asked Patrick and handed the strawberry-blonde his phone. Patrick nodded, sniffing and feeling a little bit pitiful, avoiding Bob’s gaze. He really didn’t want any sympathy right now. He just wanted Pete.
Patrick listened to the phone ring, preparing to shout Mikey down but after one calm, ‘hello?’ he kind of understood why you would go to him if you were in the kind of state Pete was in.
“Put me on to Pete, please,” Patrick said a little bit sharply.
“Um, hasn’t Pete gone home yet?” Mikey asked and Patrick’s stomach just fell.
“W-what? Isn’t he over there with you?” Patrick asked worriedly.
“No… He called me and I told him to fuck off and call you but I’m guessing he hasn’t,” Mikey replied.
“No he hasn’t…” Patrick said through gritted teeth and sighed loudly. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning…”
“That idiot!” Mikey cursed. “What, is he still ignoring your calls?”
“Yes and I have no idea where he is,” Patrick sighed. “I’m worried out of my mind, Mikey. Did he say where he was?”
“Um… I remember him saying something about being at the studio…” Mikey tried to remember.
“I checked there,” Patrick said.
“What about his parents’ house?”
“Just been there.”
“Where haven’t you been?”
“…That’s a good question…”
“Wow. Um… Look, I don’t know. He might be moving around a lot but get Bob to call him. See if he picks up.”
Patrick contemplated this for a short while.
“Okay,” he decided. “I’ve tried everything else.”
Mikey made a sympathetic noise at the other end of the phone.
“I warned him not to screw you two up,” he told Patrick, “I told him he’d struck gold.”
“Thanks,” Patrick said sadly,“well, bye.”
“Bye,” Mikey echoed and they hung up. Patrick handed Bob’s phone back to Bob and said,
“Call Pete, but put it on speakerphone.”
Bob nodded and did just that. They sat tensely, waiting for the phone to stop ringing and Pete’s voice to come through. The phone was ringing for so long Patrick nearly gave up hope until a voice that he had not heard in two days, and sounded like they hadn’t slept in that long either, cut through the monotonous ringing with a scratchy, ‘hello?’
“Hey, Pete!” Bob said brightly. “Dude, you sound God-awful, where are you?”
“I, uh, went to New Jersey. I’m over at Mikey’s house and I just got here so I’m feeling kind of travelled-out.” Pete blatantly lied and Patrick couldn’t contain the outrage bubbling within him.
“No you’re not you fucking liar. I just got off the phone with Mikey,” he barked and the line went silent, but not dead.
“P-Patrick?” Pete stammered. “You called Mikey?”
“And everyone else you know, are acquainted with and or have brushed past in a hallway somewhere,” Patrick growled. “I kind of care about your wellbeing.”
“…I’m sorry, ‘Trick,” Pete mumbled and Patrick was confused as to why Pete hadn’t hung up yet, since he’d been dodging Patrick’s calls all day.
“Save it. Where are you and don’t lie,” he said sharply and Pete made a nervous noise in the back of his throat.
“I uh… I’m sat in that park I took you through on the way to my old house,” he confessed.
Patrick cursed himself under his breath for not checking there and sighed, taking his hat off his head to wipe his forehead and putting it back on again.
“Okay, I’ll see you there. Please don’t move,” he sighed finally.
“Okay,” Pete croaked and then there was silence for a short while. “I love you, ‘Trick.”
“…I love you too,” Patrick replied and gestured to Bob to hang up, then got up to leave.
He prayed to God that Pete would keep his promise and not move. He just wanted to see him, even if it was to say goodbye which he prayed it wasn’t, he just wanted to see Pete.
He maintained this was all still Kirsten's fault.
13b