You're a Snarky Little Shit (Frerard, Petekey)

loOk oVER tHeRE...iTS SOME P L O T

Gerard sat alone in his room, his door locked, his blinds drawn. He hadn't come out in three days, minus the three a.m. trips to the kitchen for snacks and water, and the bathroom trips, of course. His only source to the world outside was his cellphone, his laptop, and Mikey's phone, which he could hardly look at. For the past three days, he'd been sitting under the covers, scrolling through Tumblr or watching a bad sitcom on Netflix. His parents had become oddly silent, only talking slightly when they thought Gerard was sleeping.

It was quite strange; for years, Gerard was constantly on Mikey's case for always coming into his room and talking his ear off. Now, he'd give anything to hear him knock just one more time.

What made Gerard fall off of his bed was him actually hearing a knock at his door. He crashed to the floor, landing on a pile of dirty clothes, worn who-knows-when. 

"Um, Gerard? It's...it's me, Pete. I, uh, can I come in?"

Gerard shuffled over to the door and unlocked it, turning the knob to see an obviously disheveled Pete standing before him. There were dark bags under his bloodshot eyes, and his hair stuck up in odd angles. The two exchanged looks, and Pete rushed forward and gave Gerard a tight hug. The kind of hug you clung onto for dear life. Once the two broke free, Pete wiped a tear away from his cheek. Gerard did the same.

"Listen, this is probably the worst time ever to talk about Mikey, but I came over because he told me he'd left me something and wanted me to come and get it," Pete said, looking down at his shoes.

"Oh, right. Well, you know where his room is."

~

Pete was alone.

In Mikey's room.

It looked the same; everything seemed untouched. The room looked as if Mikey was going to stroll in here any second.

Pete went about, slowly collecting the things Mikey left for him. In the closet sat Mikey's record collection. What was left of it, anyway. The only thing sitting there was, as promised, an Anthrax record for him. He grabbed it and set it on the bed. He then walked over to the desk drawer, the top right, and pulled out a box similar to the one that the letters were in, only smaller and it had his name written across in blue Sharpie. Pete placed that next to the record and turned to the other drawer. Inside was a little box with "Patrick" written in red Sharpie.

He didn't know why, but when he saw Mikey's gray hoodie hanging on the desk chair, he felt the extreme urge to take it. It wasn't fancy--just plain gray--and it didn't have any significant meaning or anything like that.

"No. It's not in the letter. Peter, don't take that goddamn sweatshirt," he said aloud to himself. 

Pete left promptly afterwards, with all of his things in his arms, and that goddamn hoodie tied around his waist.

~

"Hey, Tree Stump."

Pete stood on Patrick's doorstep, with the hoodie fully on by now. Since Mikey is (Pete didn't have the heart to say was) about 53423 feet taller than him, Pete had sweater paws longer than he'd ever had before. 

"Uh, I stopped by Mikey's house," Pete continued, as Patrick decided to stay silent, "to pick up a few things. And he told me to grab this for you."

Pete held out the box. Patrick hesitated, his hand hovering in midair. Pete leaned forward and placed it in his friend's palm.

"Are you alright?" Pete asked, his expression softening. 

"C-can we take this to the backyard?" Patrick asked, his voice filled with panic.

"Of course. What's up?" 

"I just...so many things about this make me feel like shit! I don't even remember my last words to him. My last words were something about me hating him. Oh god, he must have died thinking I was an ass. And in his letter, he was so sweet, he wasn't even being a bitch or anything!" Patrick said, once the two were sitting in his backyard. He was leaning on Pete's shoulder, and Pete had his arm wrapped around him. In a completely platonic way, of course.

"Maybe this box will explain it?" Pete asked. Although he wanted Patrick to feel better, he'd become anxious, wanting to open his box almost immediately. He thought he could drop off Patrick's stuff and go, but Patrick seemed to have other plans.

"I dunno...should we open them at the same time and at the same place?"

"Hmm...actually, no. That doesn't sound like the best idea. What if he hid a mini dildo in your box or something?"

"True," Patrick said, smiling for the first time since Pete called him.

"I hate to be rude, but I think I'm gonna leave. You know, so we can both open our boxes. Text me if you need anything, alright?"

~

A  schedule,

a piece of popcorn,

a ticket stub and a box of Junior Mints,

a Ziploc bag,

and coconut shampoo.

-M.W.

Pete read the tiny note that was haphazardly folded inside his box. He looked underneath it, and sure enough, everything listed on that small slip of paper was included.

Pete picked up the schedule, looking through all of Mikey's classes. All of their classes. He noticed that--very faintly--"Pete" was written in pencil next to each class listed. The coconut shampoo was from when the school broke out in lice, and Mikey smelled like he just walked out of a gift shop in Hawaii. The ticket stub and candy box; how could he forget the day Mikey got those. 

It was their first time hanging out as friends outside of school, and they decided going to the movies would be fun. What movie, you might ask?

"Let's see the Minions Movie," Mikey had said as they approached the theater.

"Listen, you'd better be fucking joking, because if not, this friendship is over," Pete said, a look of disgust on his face.

"I'm serious, but not because I want to delve into the rich backstory of everyone's favorite Twinkies with legs. We can make it a game: who can last longer? Whoever leaves the theater first has to buy the winner overpriced movie theater candy."

"Deal," Pete said.

Pete lost within 2 minutes. 

He assumed the Ziploc represented the countless times they'd eaten lunch together. But what was up with the popcorn?

Suddenly, the memory came flooding back.

The sleepover.

would ya look at that

i actually updated

lmao alright im thinking of starting one of those fics where its like theyre talking through kik or some shit because i really love those

it might be just a petekey one though

bc although i love rainy day i feel like ill forget about it

anyway thank u for 3k i love u

vote/comment if ya feel like it

~tato