trees

19.

The few things he did know, though, happened to be which window belonged to Pete (second story, last one on the right), and how to throw rocks hard enough at said window in order to wake someone up. It was just like the good old days.

After hurling a few muddy rocks at Pete's window, it finally slid open and Pete poked his head out. "Hey, you actually got my window this time. You're learning, my dearest Romeo."

"I am dying out here, Pete, and I fucking hate your neighborhood," Mikey called, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes. "Let me in. Please."

"It's Juliet to you," Pete responded, his tone mocking disappointment despite the massive grin on his face. "Front door. I'll be there in a few."

The window slid shut once more and Mikey stuck his hands into the soaking wet pockets of the sweatshirt he'd thrown on as he stood by the door and waited. Sure enough, Pete was downstairs within the minute, and he bowed as he opened the door.

"You are so weird," Mikey said, but he smiled when Pete kissed him. "Are you gonna drag me out to a convenience store a thousand miles away again?"

"I was considering it,  but you already look drenched as it is and I don't want you to get sick." Pete closed the door and grabbed Mikey's hand, pulling the other upstairs and to his room. "Maybe a train ride to New York would be better suited."

After Mikey changed into some less wet clothes from his backpack, he found himself sitting on Pete's bed with his back against the headboard and with Pete curled up in his lap. Usually at this time in the morning, Mikey would be lying face-up in his bed, staring at his ceiling and counting his mistakes, but Pete's house didn't carry the same burdens in its atmosphere and if Mikey closed his eyes, he could probably forget his situations. It almost felt like being at peace again. It almost felt like being free.

"What are you thinking about?" Pete asked, and he sounded tired even though he'd insisted that Mikey hadn't woken him up with the rocks. "Earth to Mikeyway."

Mikey looked down at Pete, snapping out of his hazy trance, and Pete smiled up at him. "Would it be okay with your parents if I stayed here for a while? I don't exactly have anywhere else to go."

Pete's smile faded a little bit. "Shit, did you get kicked out?"

"Sort of. I kicked myself out." Mikey picked at the bandages on his hand. "It just kept getting worse. I wasn't just gonna sit there until I got killed. You know."

"Does it have anything to do with whatever the fuck happened to your hand?" Pete looked worried as hell. Mikey cursed himself for not having hid his hand until it was fully healed - he could've avoided both this conversation and spared Pete's concern. "What even happened to it?"

"I got burned," Mikey said, as nonchalantly as he could, and he pretended it didn't still hurt like hell when Pete traced over the bandages with a cautious finger. "It's really not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? You're getting hurt, it obviously is a big deal," Pete responded, dropping Mikey's hand and running his own two through his hair. "You fucking terrify me, Mikey. Jesus."

"Well, as long as I'm here, I won't be getting hurt," Mikey commented, "which will be for the foreseeable future. Or until your parents get sick of me and throw me out, in which case I don't know what I'll do."

Pete sighed, reaching up and cupping Mikey's cheek in his palm. "A train ride to New York actually sounds really fucking good right about now, like, I was kidding earlier, but now I'm thinking I wanna run away with you and start over in the city."

"Right. Two teenagers without jobs trying to make a living in one of the most expensive places in this country." Mikey leaned into the other's touch, and Pete tucked some damp hair behind the former's ear. "That sounds like a solid plan."

"I know, I know, but Jersey fucking blows, and I wouldn't mind burning some goddamn bridges if it meant that you could finally get out of this place."

When Mikey woke up the following morning, the sun would rise and Pete would be curled up by his side, and when the sun set, all of his cuts and bruises would be able to heal. The buzzing in his head would quiet down, the world would run empty except for them, and maybe things would turn out alright, after all.

--

holy shit i did it i wrote all of this today lmao my writer's block has been absolutely KILLINg me but i did it!!! happy fucking 4th of july y'all!!!!!

i made some references to last year's fourth of july chapter if anyone remembers that at all lmao and i'm sorry this wasn't as gay™ as it could've been but at least there's actually petekey & it's not totally fuckin depressing like the last few chapters lmao

happy petekey day y'all thanks 4 reading i'll be back soon