hockey jerseys ; m.p ✔

05

pete's skates slide along the ice, cutting clear lines into the thin surface.

he's relaxed, as he always is on the ice, just warming up and spinning in circles. none of his teammates have arrived yet, and that's okay with him. he's half an hour early, anyway, and he's the team captain.

he picks up his speed, soft scraping sound of the skates grazing the ice, and he smiles to himself, spinning in a circle.

"you should be a figure skater," a voice calls, and pete falters, skidding to a stop.
mikey grins at him, tilting his head like a puppy. in his arms is a basket full of what seems to be freshly washed hockey jerseys, and pete has the desire to skate out the door.

jesus, this was going to be hard.

"u-uh, not really my thing," pete says, his voice slightly more high-pitched than usual, and he blushes softly.

"o-kay?.. are you alright?" mikey asks him, and pete nods, making mikey shrug. "okay," the tall boy says, before wombling off towards the changing rooms.

pete skates over to the gate and hobbles out, balancing as best he can over to the benches, where he unlaces them, before following mikey into the room.

"uh, what're you doing?" he asks the taller boy, who's putting the jerseys on hangers, and hanging them on the lockers of the boys.

"my job?" he replies, rolling his eyes playfully.

pete clears his throat awkwardly, nodding.

"uh, yeah," pete mumbles, watching mikey for a moment, until the taller finishes.

"so, what's up?" mikey asks, smiling at pete, who shrugs.

"nothing, just training will be in about.. twenty minutes? so i was warming up," pete replies, and mikey nods, giggling.

"so early before? won't you be warming up with the boys when they come?" he asks, and pete shrugs.

"i dunno, i'm just the captain, so-"

"so you're gonna work yourself until you're all poofed out?" mikey asks, tossing the basket into the usual spot it's in.

"poofed?" pete grins, and mikey shrugs back, blushing a pretty pink.

"yeah, you know? c'mere, i've got games on my phone - even neko atsume!" mikey giggles, sitting onto a bench, and beckoning mikey over.

mikey furrows his eyes at mikey - the fuck is a neko atsume?? - but he still plonks himself down next to the taller boy as he opens the game.

mikey beams at the small, cartoon animals, and rambles to pete about the different kinds of cats, and their names, and their personalities, and it was all too much. mikey was just so adorable, a slight red his cheeks, his eyes wide and sparkling with enthusiasm, and the light seemed to make his pals skin glow.

pretty.

"what was that?" mikey asks, his face turning a horrendous red.

"what?"

"you just said 'pretty'," mikey says, and pete blushes, too.

"uh, yeah, about the, um, the game graphics, i didn't"

"hey, losers," gerard skips into the locker room happily, brendon, josh, and a few other members of the team coming in behind him.

mikey swipes off the game and shoves his phone back into his pocket, still blushing. "b-bye," he mumbles to pete, before skidding out the door, embarrassed.

how could he have thought that pete was saying that about him? he's fucking straight, mikey. straight, mikey reminds himself, shaking his head. shouldn't have gotten so attached.

mikey stomps over to the bleachers and sits down next to frank, who asks him to help with calculus politely. mikey nods, smiling at the tiny boy, but the amount of embarrassed he was was so overwhelming it was hard to speak without stuttering.

when the boys had finished practicing, mikey and frank waited for gerard near the entrance to the changing room, and heard a scuffle inside.

gerard sprints at top speed out of the room, holding a backpack full of... clothes?

"fuck you man, c'mon!"

someone runs dead into mikey, and they fall together, the small one landing on top of mikey.

"f-fuck," pete mumbles, pushing himself up instantly as self-consciousness and anxiety overwhelms him, as he's only in his boxers. "gerard, gimme my shit back," pete says, almost pleading, and gerard giggles from the other side of the rink, having run all the way around it.

"you'll have to catch me first," gerard calls back, giggling like an idiot. frank giggles along, and mikey can't help but be dumbstruck at the flawless body in front of him - that was just on top of him!

he inhales sharply, watching pete's muscles ripple subtly, and he scrambles up off the floor.

"y-yeah, gee. give pete his clothes, please," mikey says, and gerard's grin falls.

"you're no fun, mikes," he sighs, walking back over and tossing the backpack into pete's hands.

"thanks, mikey," pete says, and mikey blushes, his eyes almost trailing down again.

"n-no biggie," mikey says, smiling awkwardly, watching as pete walked away, back into the room to put his clothes on.

"stop ogling your boyfriend," gerard scowls at mikey, who lights up red again.

"what the fuck? we're not dating, gee," mikey frowns. "pete's straight, and has a girlfriend who he makes out with excessively and it kinda makes me sick to my stomach and i'm pretty sure thats because heterosexual relationships make me uncomfor-"

"well, at least we know you've got a crush on him. really, though? my best friend?" gerard asks, and mikey rolls his eyes.

"and how on earth would you know that?"

"uhhhh, how you look at him, how you smile at him, the amount of blushing you do when he's around, the amount you talk about-"

"okay, i get it, just shut up," mikey grumbles, stomping out of the sports centre gym, (thing??,) and to gerards car, where he leans on the door impatiently waiting for frank and gerard, scowling to himself because so what if he has a crush on pete? a lot of people do, probably. not his fault.