Mikey:
Pete's sat on the couch, taking off their makeup after our night out together. I'm already changed - I hate being in formal wear for longer than I need to be. Pete's still sat on the couch, looking pretty in their skirt. The way they can look so effortlessly gorgeous but still punk baffles me. It's probably because they're so short. It works in their favour in instances like this, and it also helps me take the piss out of them, which is a benefit no matter what.
"How's Frank doing?" Pete asks me. I think they've always thought that Frank and I have some sort of emotional connection. I mean, we kind of do. When you've known someone for as long as I've known Frank, you build up a bond.
"I think he's okay. We're getting Starbucks tomorrow as a bro date so we can talk about what's happened." I answer. Pete looks up at me, their facial expression a mix of surprise and hurt.
"That's great for you guys. But weren't we supposed to be spending tomorrow together?" Pete says. I feel insanely guilty.
"We can still spend tomorrow together, baby." I say, sitting down and taking their hand in mine. "But I need to make sure that my best friend is okay. Darling, you come first in everything I do, but Frank is really hurting, and I need to help him." I explain softly. They're looking at me, but with a very different expression. Love.
"You're a good person, Mikeyway. You're selfless and kind and I love you for it. Yes, I would love to spend my day with you tomorrow, but I understand Frank has to take priority. I have a gig tomorrow anyway so me and the guys will be rehearsing a lot. It actually works in my favour." Pete says, with a lopsided lazy smile. I had no idea they had a gig tomorrow.
"You should have told me about your gig sooner, love. Where is it?" I ask. I'm slightly hurt they didn't tell me about it.
"It's in the city. Andy's dad knows someone who has a venue, and they want to hear us play. Chances are, it's going to be quite small, around 70 people. Knowing the Jersey punk scene the number of ANR's and scots for record companies will outweigh the actual crowd for us." They explain. I've been to a couple of shows for shitty local bands recently: Frank's massive in the scene here. I love the atmosphere there. It's loud and you don't get ID'd for buying alcohol, even if you look 14. I remember back when Pete was in Chicago last summer and Frank and I went to a show pretty much every night. It was one of the best weeks. The guys there were super chill. It kind of made me want to be in a band even more than I did before. It was a shame Gerard would neve come with us though. He didn't even know Frank at that point.
"What time, baby? I'll be there, I promise. I haven't been to a show in months, and I miss it." I say. Pete nods, understanding. I'd never tell them that they're the reason I haven't been to a gig in a while. Not because they don't want me going out. I know they wouldn't stop me. I just want to spend as much time with them as possible.
"If you get to the venue for 7:30 tommorow night, then that would work perfectly." They say, pulling me over to them. They gently kiss my neck. Not in a sexual way, though. They missed my cheek.
"I can't wait to see you guys perform. I love your demo's. It was the only thing I could listen to last summer when you were away last summer." I admit, looking at my feet.
"You're adorable, Mikey. I can't believe you missed me that much last summer." Pete says, stroking my hair.
"It was like I lost my left arm, babe. Just ask Gerard. I was, and I quote, 'a horny, moping mess.'." I say, laughing. They crack a smile, and they're laughing with me.
"Trust me, I was no better. To be honest, I was probably a lot worse. My little sister wanted me to play with her all the time, my friends back home wanted to hang out and get high. All I could do was think about you. What you were doing. How you were doing." Pete says. They're so cute. Sometimes. 90% sass, 10% cute.
I lean in for a kiss. They reach up and peck my lips softly. Their lips are so soft. It's only short, but it gets both of us smiling widely. I feel like how I felt when I saw them after they landed back from Chicago.
-flashback to then-
They're coming back today. My best friend in all the world. This week has been hard to get through without them. Especially with Gerard and his jerk of a boyfriend at home constantly. It hasn't been all that bad, though. I managed to see Frank lots, which has been really great for the both of us. He's staying with his Dad for the time being, he was kicked out of Catholic school. He introduced me into the Jersey punk scene, which was incredible, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't hate the hangovers the next morning.
I keep the sign I made for Pete close. Gerard offered to drive me and stay with me whilst I was waiting for them, but I declined. If anything happened between us, Gerard would never let me live it down. I'm playing with the lights I put around the outside of the sign. They're hot pink and flashing. I get the feeling people are staring at me.
An elderly woman stands next to me. "Aren't you the sweetest boyfriend, coming to get your girlfriend from the airport." She says, nodding at my sign.
"Yeah, she's something special." I reply through gritted teeth. I wish I'd bought my headphones so I could block out the world. Their plane couldn't come soon enough.
I talk to the woman for a bit longer, just to seem polite. She seems nice enough. Her granddaughter - also from Chicago - is travelling to spend the weekend in New York to see her boyfriend. Ten minutes later and Pete's flight is announced over the airport intercom. Five minutes until I see my best friend again. I pick up my sign, and wait for the doors to open.
I hope they'll like the sign. It's very extra, but then again, so are they. It's white with hot pink lights around the outside. In the centre of the sign, I bribed Gerard to write nerd. Because they're a nerd, and a loser, but an exceptionally pretty nerd at that. I'm so far gone. I thought that this was just me still really wanting to be their friend, but it's gone past that now. You have to lose something to realise how much you actually love it.
It feels like the doors separating us are opening in slow motion. They used to carry luggage, they should be one of the first ones out. I see them, and my face breaks out into a massive grin. They're beaming, and they run towards me. In the heat of the moment, I dropped the sign that Gerard and I worked on all last night. Pete tackles me into a massive hug.
"Hey Mikey," They say, their infectious smile not leaving their face. "Nice sign. I love the lights."
"I missed you so much. Next time you're planning on going back home, I'm coming with you." I say, lightly punching the upper bit of their arm as we walk out of the airport together. I managed to find a taxi for us back to my place.
We spend the rest of the day hanging out at my place. They're telling me all about their family, and they're so excited about it. I have the urge to grab their dumb face and kiss it.
It's like I've lost control of myself. My hand reaches over to the side of their face, landing on their cheek. They've let their hair grow out a bit, and it looks amazing on them. They look at me, clearly confused. But somehow, it's working. They're mirroring what I'm doing, and we lean in for a kiss. It's all I've ever dreamed of. They taste amazing. Like Colgate toothpaste and Apple Tango. I pull away, and I can't make eye contact with them. They take my chin in their hands and we look at each other for what feels like an eternity.
"What was that for, Mikey?" They ask me. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, I've wanted to do that for years."
"I think I want to be a bit more than friends, Pete." I sa, embarrassed. They look at me, their face splitting in an ear to ear grin. They're nodding frantically, and they tackle me again.
"There is nothing I'd want more than to be with you." They reply.
-end of flashback-
"What are you thinking about babe? You're oddly quiet." Pete says, running his hands through my hair, like they're about to give me a head massage.
"You, mainly. Our conversation earlier had me thinking about why we didn't get together sooner." I say, pushing my head back into their hands and letting them play with my hair more. They limp over to the coach and sit on my lap.
"Because, my darling, I thought that you were an oblivious straight dudebro for all the years I knew you before we started dating." They say. I'm confused, I don't think I was that bad.
"I wasn't that bad, was I?" I say, cringing at my past self.
"Mikey, Mikeyway, sweetheart, darling, the prospective father of my twelve future dogs. How do I tell you this nicely? Do you remember when we went to homecoming together last year?
Because we both didn't have dates? That was my very subtle way of seeing if you actually liked me." They explain. I probably caused them so much heartache over the years.
I hug them closer to my chest. "I did like you back then, love. I always have, I always will. I'm ready for our future, I will most definitely father your twelve dogs. And what about all that end homophobia stuff we did? Or that sleepover the night we graduated eight grade?" I say. They turn to me, and look me dead in the eye.
"To be totally honest, babe, I thought you were using me as something to experiment with. To see if you liked it. I worry about that a lot still. It's one of my biggest insecurities." They admit. They're doing that thing when they mumble into my face. They only do that when they're embarrassed. I take their face in my hands and hold it for a while.
"Pete, sweetheart. I would never use you as something to experiment with. I knew I liked you when you kicked that guy in the balls for me back in Junior High for picking on me about my glasses. I'm sorry if I was an asshole." I say, feeling guilty.
"I know that now, love. I was just so insecure about everything back then." They say. They have a point. When I first met Pete, they were a totally different person. They hated music with a passion, only wore baggy thrifted clothes and wouldn't talk to anyone but me and Frank. I like to think that we helped them.
They try to wriggle off my lap, but I pick them up bridal style. I want them to stay with me, even though all I'm doing is walking to the kitchen. They're kicking their legs and squealing like a little kid. I laugh, and I put them down on the floor safely. They're pouting now.
"What's up, Pete?" I ask them, smirking. This is going to be fun for one of us. And it won't be my moody partner who acts like a 13 year old girl with daddy issues.
"Why did you put me down? They say, pouting more.
"I needed to use my hands to get food from the fridge. Normal people need hands to open a fridge. I'm not a Jedi, babe." I say sarcastically, ignoring the fact that their tongue is sticking out at me. Once again, a 13 year old girl.
"That doesn't stop you from holding me in some way." They say, whinging. I'm taken aback by their next move. They grab my shoulders and jump, pulling me backwards. I grab their legs and they cling to me for dear life.
"What the hell are you doing?" I yell, staggering backwards in surprise.
"Holding you, babe. I want to cuddle." they say. I put the Coke Zero bottle on the countertop and pull out some ice cream from the fridge-freezer. I'm guessing Gerard and Frank must have heard all the noise, as they're walking up from the basement.
"Mikes, why is Pete on your back like that?" Gerard asks, raising an eyebrow at us.
"It's not what it looks like, Gee. I promise. My stupid pissbaby partner wanted me to hold them so they jumped onto my back." I explain. Frank laughs at us both, his hand in Gerard's back pocket. They've obviously just fucked. Messy hair and puffy lips. They can't keep their hands to themselves. I side eye my brother, and he flips me off.
"He's too tall for me and I needed to reach the cookies, so I was making the best out of a bad situation." Pete says innocently. That little fucker, I swear.
"If that was all they wanted, then I have no choice but to let it happen." Gerard says, smirking. He takes Frank down the stairs to the basement. Pete and I make eye contact, and I sudder, making them cling onto me.
I pick up the Coke Zero bottle and get two spoons for the ice cream. Shoot me, I'm hungry again. I'll probably eat next to nothing tomorrow though, so it won't matter. I somehow manage to carry everything, including Pete, back to the couch where I set them down. I pick up a spoon and open the ice cream tub. Mint chocolate, by far the best flavour going.
I pick up the bottle of Coke and start drinking, ignoring the disgusted look Pete gives me. There's something about drinking soda straight out of the bottle that doesn't compare to drinking it from a glass. It almost tastes better.
"Babe, do you want me to get you a glass?" Pete asks me. I look at him and wipe my mouth on the back of my hand like a small child.
"I'm good thank you. Sometimes you just have to chug soda. It's one of those things." I say, smiling. Pete stares at me for a solid 15 seconds before they burst out laughing.
"You're so weird, Mikey. It's one of my favourite things about you." They say, shaking their head fondly.
"Want some?" I ask, passing them the bottle. They push it away, giving it back to me.
"You know I love you, but not enough to share a week old Coke Zero, especially as you probably have a head cold coming on." Pete says. They're not wrong. I don't think going into NYC without a jacket in early November did me any good.
"Says the person who had their tongue down my throat no less than fifteen minutes ago." I reply, putting my head on Pete's chest.
"Touché, babe." Pete replies, running their fingers through my hair. "But rest up before tomorrow night. I need you there."
"I will, love. It's not like I'm doing much tomorrow anyway." I reply, yawning and stretching. My head hurts.
"You need to get some sleep and take some anti-flu medication. That's the best thing for you at the minute. How's your throat feeling?" Pete says to me, their voice soft.
"My throat's fine. It's just that my head really hurts, and I feel like I'm 15 ft underwater with the pressure on my sinuses." I reply. I didn't feel this bad at the start of the evening back when we were out, and I like Pete taking care of me.
"Aw, poor baby. Look, I'm here to help you. All that through sickness and in health bullshit people go on about." They say. It makes me smile a bit.
"Even though I doubt this bullshit country will let me say anything like that to you legally for a while." I say through gritted teeth. It's hard to sound pissed off at the government when the front of your head is 90% snot.
"One day, Mikey. Hopefully soon when we're still pretty." Pete says. They're walking into the kitchen. "Where do you keep the medical supplies?"
"In the bathroom upstairs. Look in the glass cabinet above the sink." I reply. Though I'm not totally sure they should be walking this much, especially on their ankle. They only hurt it a week ago, even if they isist they're fine. "Pete, wait. Sit down. It's still early days with your ankle recovery. Aren't you worried about it healing weirdly?"
"Babe, my ankle's fine. You're clearly not. So, lie down on the sofa and let me look after you. I might be a while in the bathroom though, I need to take a shower. Is that okay?" They ask me.
"Are yuo totally sure about that? Because yesterday you were unable to walk properly. You know you don't need to ask to have a shower. This is your house as much as it's mine." I say, smiling softly. They walk over to me and kiss my forehead, even though I'm burning up.
"Holy shit love, you're really hot," They say, wiping their lips. It probably didn't help their case that my forehead is really sweaty.
"Not as hot as you are baby. Go and have your shower. I love you." I say. They flip me off in response.
"If you're ure that you're okay for me to leave you, then I will. But you need to tel me if you need me. I will run out of the shower ass naked if you need me to." Pete replies, a twinkle in their eye.
Pete hobbles up the stairs, dragging their foot. It's obviously not okay, and it looks like they're in pain. I should have asked them to fetch me my blanket, I'm really fucking cold. But I can't ask them now. They're probably already in the bathroom. I have to ask the next best person.
I walk to the door that leads down to Gee's room, and it's safe to say that I have no idea what I'll be walking down to. I try to shout, but it hurts my head too much. Why did I have to get ill? I could pretend that I'm not, and just get on with it, but that'd be stupid. I walk back to the couch and flop down onto it, reaching for my phone.
Mikey: hey frank, can you get me my blanket? pete's in the shower, and i'm sick so i can't move from here.
Frank: dude, that's fine!! is it in your room? i'll get it for you asap :)
Frank jogs up the stairs. Luckily, he doesn't look like I've interrupted anything. "Dude, you look like death warmed up, is everything okay?" He asks me.
"Head cold. I'm sorry bro, I'm going to have to cancel our bro date tomorrow." I say through a sniffle.
"We can do it another time. Where's Pete? Are they looking after you?" He asks.
"Shower. I was going to ask them for my blanket and Rodger, but they were already half way up the stairs before it even crossed my mind." I tell Frank. Luckily he knows exactly who I mean when I say Rodger. He's the stuffed bear that Gran bought me when she visted London, and I've slept with it most nights since I was around three. I don't really sleep with him anymore though. Only when I need a little bit of extra comfort. The one bad thing about stuffed animals is that they can't cuddle you back. It's definitely a design flaw.
"Okay dude. Are both of them on your bed?" Frank asks. I'm grateful that he didn't judge me for wanting Rodger with me.
"Yeah. Thanks Frank." I reply, mid-yawn.
"Anytime. Do you need anythingg else?" He asks.
"Not that I can think of." I reply. Frank walks up the stairs and enters my bedroom, getting my bear and blanket. He comes back down the stairs, his arms full.
"Do you need me to tuck you in?" He asks me.
"I'm fine, get back to your boyfriend." I say, grinning. He smiles at me and goes back down to Gerard.
I wish Pete wou;d hurry up with their shower. They seem to be taking ages. I know they won't want to cuddle, they're a hypochondriac and scared of getting sick. That's part of why I wanted Rodger. I think I'm delirious.
"Looks like it's just you and me buddy." I say to Rodger. This sounds ridiculous, but when i was younger I always used to talk to him. I used to take comfort in the idea that maybe he had some connection to Grampa. I still believe that to an extent. I tuck him under my arm and snuggle into his fur, trying to fall asleep. I kind of wish I would have let Frank tuck me in. The blanket's pretty close. I sit up slowly and pull it over myself, trying to roll myself up in it, like a burrito. I let my eyes close, and try to fall asleep.