trees

5.

Pete threw a rock at what he hoped was Mikey's window.

He couldn't tell exactly, but he could kind of see a wall cluttered with posters of shitty punk bands and a light in the corner; he crossed his fingers and hoped that he had the right house and the right window. After all, this was the address that Mikey had provided, and Mikey wouldn't lie to him.

Pete sighed, relieved, when the window slid open and Mikey stuck his head out.

"What do you want?" he called, indifferent to the fact that a short emo was standing in the middle of his backyard.

"Come down," Pete yelled back. Mikey shook his head, though there was a discernible smile on his face.

"Why don't you come up instead?"

"That's, uh, romantic and all, but if you didn't notice, I'm not a squirrel and I can't just scale the side of your house."

"No, you rusty shovel, I was about to go down and unlock the door."

"Oh. Didn't think about that."

The window slid closed and in about a minute's time, Mikey appeared behind the glass sliding door to the backyard and stepped outside; Pete threw himself into the taller boy's arms and kissed him on the cheek. "I've missed you, mon amour."

"Pete, it's been six hours."

"That's too long! I can't possibly live without you!"

Mikey rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Just get inside the house."

They curled up together on Mikey's bed after sneaking past a sleeping Gerard, cuddling in the dark and watching some crappy movie on Netflix. It wasn't like Pete was paying any attention; he was too busy watching Mikey's eyes light up as he watched the screen, and listening to his muffled laughter when something vaguely amusing played.

As beautiful as admiring Mikey from a distance was, Pete wanted the champagne warmth of skin on skin again, for the taste of peppermint chapstick and summer air and the fireworks in his stomach.

So Pete pulled Mikey closer, pressing his lips onto his jaw. He heard Mikey's breath hitch, the steady rise and fall of his chest quickening ever-so-slightly. Satisfied with the reaction, Pete kept peppering Mikey's neck and face with little butterfly kisses that filled his body with warmth equal to the summer night outside, except less humid and more beautiful.

"Just kiss me on the goddamn mouth, Pete, you tease."

He didn't need telling twice.

The experience wasn't nearly as delicate and elegant as up in the tree earlier that day; this time around, it seemed like they both poured their entire hearts into kissing the other.
Pete never wanted to let go, not even to breathe; all he needed was Mikey Way, because he was that infatuated and attached that he could breathe in Mikey's skin and stay alive forever. He felt immortal when their hearts met, beating in sync; everything was beautifully poetic and romantic and he damn well loved it all. Pete could write an entire novel about Mikey Way with all the things he learned through kisses and movement.
But then he remembered that there was one thing he didn't know.

"Earlier today, after school ended," he mumbled, pulling away just a little bit so that he could speak, "why were you crying?"

And it was then that Mikey sat up completely, rubbing his eyes and leaving Pete's side cold. "It was nothing. Honestly."

"Baby, it hurt you, and it hurt me," Pete reached up to grab Mikey's hand. "I don't want you to be sad. I don't want anyone to make you sad. You deserve to be happy forever."

Mikey laughed bitterly. "It's hard to be happy when you're surrounded by close-minded assholes every day."

"Mikes, what's wrong?" Pete sat up as well, looking at the other boy, concerned. "You can tell me anything."

The taller boy shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not? I swear I'll keep all of your secrets-"

"I want to tell you, I really do." Mikey sniffed and Pete realized he was crying. "I just don't know how you'll react, and it scares me, Pete, it really scares me."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll never leave your side."

"D'you promise?"

Pete nodded. "Cross my heart and hope to die, splinter from a headboard in my eye, Mikeyway, I will never ever leave you."

Mikey nodded back, swallowing and wiping his tears away. Pete desperately wanted to kiss them away.

"Right. I-I... God, I don't know how to say this..."

Pete squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Just go for it, babe."

"I'm a boy."

"Yeah? I know. You're the most beautiful boy in the world."

Mikey smiled through his tears, which were still falling rapidly. "The only problem is... that's not the situation downstairs, if you know what I mean? Pete, I'm biologically female and that's a problem."

"Not to me."

And Pete enveloped Mikey in a bone-crushing hug, because that's what he really needed, and Mikey was still crying because this was only more proof that Pete Wentz was the best person ever.

"Oh my God," Mikey sobbed, digging his nails into Pete's back. "I think I love you. I fucking love you, Pete Wentz, you goddamn angel."
And now Pete was crying too, because Mikey swearing was his new aesthetic, and they were both laughing, and they pulled apart and kissed again. They were both so vulnerable, so desperate and young and so filled to the brim with raw emotion, and there they were at three in the morning, laughing and crying like the world was ending the very next day.

"Jesus Christ, Mikey, I'm never leaving your side, no matter what," Pete said, and he meant it as much as a stupid, infatuated, fifteen-year-old could. "I'd take a bullet for you."

"No, you wouldn't," Mikey said, cupping Pete's cheek with a hand. "That's too extreme."

"Okay, yeah, maybe it is, but you still get the message."

Mikey rolled his eyes and pulled Pete into another hug. They almost forgot that they couldn't stay there forever.

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long chapter!! with actual content!! yay!! also,, i'm gonna be that one obnoxious asshole and tell you that you should check out the most recent chapter of my other book lifeboat if you haven't already. thanks lmao