Chapter Text
1
Night time, red lights, a disco ball spinning like a record; casting specs of light across the walls and ceiling, loud music, the clink of glasses, lots of people dancing, illuminated only by the dance floor lights.
In the middle of the floor a tall teen flailing his arms in an attempt to throw some shapes, a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand, swaying his head from side to side causing strands of his brown curly hair to swish. He ran delicate fingers through his hair flashing a wolfish grin, before placing his lips around the top of the bottle and taking a sip of his drink, then he giggled raising the bottle in the air and singing along to Pump Up The Jam by Technotronic .
"Get your booty on the floor toniiiight make my daaay."
Stitch was having a good time, even though he was slurring his speech, he sang most of the lyrics wrong and some random girl kept stumbling into him which made him flinch, he was having a blast.
Stitch thought to himself "If this girl stumbles into me one more time, I'll have to say something." He felt someone bump into him - this was the last straw for Stitch, but when he turned around he noticed that it wasn't a girl this time, it was a teenage boy, he looked about his age.
A sort of squeaky cockney voice escaped from his mouth, "OH, SORRY MATE!" He shouted over the music. Stitch was going to confront him but noticed a slight sadness in this boy's sparkly, blue eyes.
"Oh, no it's...it's fine don't worry about it um are you...you alright? Cos you uh ran into me with some force." He took a gulp of his drink.
The boy rubbed his hands on the back of his jeans and answered, "M running away! From me parents!"
Stitch stopped dancing, "Oh God...I'm sorry mate."
"S'ok they 'ate me!"
Stitch looked confused, "Oh, why?" He asked tentatively.
"Um, they're 'omophobes!" He shrugged his shoulders and looked at the floor, revealing his blonde quiff.
"Oh. I'm sorry. That's out of order."
"At's why I came 'ere."
"To the gay club?" He chuckled slightly.
"S'one big 'fuck you' innit?" He cackled, before his expression settled back into melancholy.
Stitch felt sorry for him, dragging his bottom lip through his top teeth, "Can I buy you a uh….drink or anything?"
The blonde boy looked up into the taller man's eyes and smiled."Yeah, alright. 'm Pete by the way."
* * *
Pete and Stitch had their drinks on the table, whilst sitting in a booth together. Pete had one hand wrapped around his glass, while the other drummed on the table bobbing his head to I Ran (So Far Away) by A Flock Of Seagulls. He looked around the bar awkwardly before briefly catching Stitch's eye and smiling without showing any teeth. When Stitch had his attention he asked what had happened, as clearly as he could considering he was drunk.
Pete explained, "Well I came out to 'em and they didn't take it well a' all." As he had more alcohol he started to loosen up a bit, "You know? 'Ow can I live in an 'ouse where me parents dun't love me, where I can't even express me crushes?"
Stitch swished the last few drops of his drink around in the bottle, shaking his head lightly. "No one. Should have to live like that. You should be free! Free to expressyaself!" He raised his bottle, knocking his already finished glass in the middle of the table. "Oh. Shit."
"I know!" Pete took a deep breath, waving his arms around, spilling his drink. "'M gonna have ta move out. I told 'em 'm gonna find a place a me own where they can't 'urt me…" He started to break. "But I got no fuckin clue where 'm even goin'. S'rry. I." Pete sniffed getting up from the table, shuffled his way out from the booth and ran to the men's toilets. Stitch followed straight after him with concern across his face.
Stitch had run after Pete, all the way across the dancefloor to the toilets and saw Pete standing against the wall of a cubicle with his head in his hands, shaking violently.
"Hey. What's up?" He asked softly.
"I shouldn't even be bovring you wiv me personal problems." Pete said into his hands.
"Don't mind. Honesly." Stitch grabbed the nearest toilet roll and broke some off before handing it to Pete. "Here."
Pete lifted his head slowly and then gave a watery smile, "fanks." He sniffed, wiping his nose with his shirt sleeve and drying his eyes. As he was doing so, Stitch noticed something that he hadn't in the club lights - a purplish coloured bruise on his right cheek.
"S'that them?" He asked quietly, careful not to upset him further.
Pete covered his cheek with his tissue and said "Oh. Um."
"Right where'd they live, I'll fuck em up. I'll show em my moves." Stitch mimed boxing in a ring, very light on his feet like a shrew.
Pete chuckled at this, considering they had not known each other long at all and he was already offering to fight his battles to help. "Hehe. Easy tiger."
Stitch leaned against the sink to hold himself upright, then cleared his throat. "You...stayin with anyone?"
Pete shook his head and croaked, "Just a mate."
"Well, I've got a spare room in my flat." He ruffled his brown hair.
"Right?" The blonde boy replied, raising an eyebrow.
"So y'know you could...I'd be happy to let you stay." Stitch's gaze flickered from the floor, back up to Pete.
"Really?"
"It's no problem."
"Oh! Fank you Stitch!" Pete ran into his arms for a hug.
"Don't touch me." He flinched.
"Wha?" Pete stepped back slightly upset.
"No it's not you...I just..don't like to be touched."
"Oh, alright sorry. Fair enuff fanks for the offer." He scratched his head. "Anyway. I wanna dance!"
"Yeah, dance those troubles away!"
"Bloody will!" He stormed out the toilets with Stitch behind him.
2
After a conversation with his best mate, Pete had decided to search for an affordable flat. He was lifting boxes out of a white moving van filled with his belongings and then he was sure he saw the man from last night. "Oy!"
Stitch winced, he had a hangover and was wearing dark shades and a blue hoodie."Christ." He nearly dropped his keys, so bent over to pick them up, waving absentmindedly at Pete. "Hiya."
"You alrigh? You look like def."
"Hangover." He held up his shopping bag and pointed to it. "Berocca."
"Oh, right then. Anyway what you doin 'ere?"
"I live here."
"Ah! No way! I'm movin in!"
"Oh yeah?" Stitch put the keys in the lock.
"Yeah, s'why I got 'ese boxes!" Pete gestured with his head, arms wrapped tightly around one of the brown boxes.
"D'you need any help?"
"That'll be nice."
"Ok. Lemme just take care of the marching band in my head and I'll be right out."
"Fanks, preciate it!"
Once inside the flat, Stitch popped the shopping bag on the table, got himself a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with tap water. Then he popped 2 tablets out of their packet and let them fizz until the water turned orange, before gulping it down.
Pete was sat on the wall outside of his new place chewing on his shirt sleeve waiting for Stitch to come outside and help him, he was looking at the sky and following some ants crawling on the ground with his eyes, whistling to the birds in the trees. Then he took his sleeve out of his mouth and started to get anxious that Stitch wasn't going to come back and that meant he'd have to move everything by himself. He clasped his hands together and chewed on the inside of his cheek, when he saw Stitch he put his hand in his jacket pocket.
Stitch rubbed his hands together, "Right, so…..you take those two and I'll take these two?" He gestured to the boxes.
Pete looked up at him and stood up, "K then."
Between the two of them they carried boxes into the flat, emptying the van.
"S'alright innit? Quite a lot of space." Pete screwed up his face.
Stitch scratched his head, "Nice." That was all he could manage, he still felt very delicate.
They popped the boxes down in a corner and took a deep breath. "Fanks Stitch. Well nice a you to do that."
"S'ok." He thought for a minute, "Um, do you wanna come over to mine….for a cuppa at all? We can um….sort these out later?"
Pete closed his eyes, "Ah d'you know what, I would love that Stitch. Been a rough morning I'm dying for a cup a tea." They walked over the road to Stitch's house, Pete locking the door behind him, placing his keys in his jean pocket.
Stitch placed his keys on the table and put the kettle on. He brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, "So um I don't mean to pry at all uh….but….how are things...did...did you talk to your parents?"
Pete was looking around at the kitchen in awe, it was a beautiful kitchen, not too big, not too small, quite cosy with orange walls, "Hmm? Oh um…." Pete rubbed his arm, "Well I-"
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Just um aha...trying to uh be a good friend." He smiled warmly which let Pete know he could fully trust this man.
3
Pete's bedroom floor was taken up by boxes, his whole room was turned upside down as he was trying to pack his clothes, his posters, his music and his flamingo lamp. He was frantically packing, getting short of breath trying to get out of that house as soon as possible, trying not to cry - this was a big step for him. He heard a horn honking outside indicating his friend was there with the moving van, he waved at him through the window and mimed "I'll be down now." He opened the window, "Oy Fin actually. Could you 'elp me wiv me boxes mate?" His friend gave him a thumbs up and got out of the van.
Pete picked up as many boxes as he could carry by himself down the stairs, cautiously placing them by the front door so that his friend could load them into the van.
He unlocked the door and Fin took the boxes along with a suitcase."Anymore?" His friend asked out of breath.
Tears ran down Pete's face, "Um, about 2 more." He sniffed.
"You sure you don't want me to come in with you?"
"Don't want 'em angry at you as well Fin. 'M in enough trouble doing this under cover of night like a...fuckin' spy."
"Ok if you're sure. I'll be right outside Ok?" He placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, smiled and walked back to the van, leaning up against it in case he had to intervene.
"Fanks mate." He wiped his tears with his shirt sleeve, took a deep breath, "Ok here I go."
Pete managed to get the last of his belongings, but as he walked past the living room, where he thought his parents were asleep on the sofa after drinking themselves silly, he heard his Dad's voice "Where the fuck are you goin at this time a night?"
"I'm um….I'm moving out Dad."
"Moving out! Where the fuck you gonna go ey?"
"S' Far away from you as possible!" He gestured his head to the sofa, "and Mum!"
"Don't raise your voice at me you little shit!"
"Why not. You shout at me all the fuckin time Dad. ALL THE FUCKIN TIME! I'M DONE!"
He started to cry, "I'm done." He walked to the passage way, knocked on the door to signal Fin and heard his Mother shout as he was going out the door.
"Don't talk to your father like that or I'll give you something to cry about."
"Oh you're finally awake are you. Fought you were too pissed to move!"
"What did you say?"
"What's a matta Mum? Fought you could 'old your alcohol."
"You're so lucky I'm too drunk to move right now Pete I swear to God or I'd-"
"What. 'It me again?!?"
Pete's voice was going now, it was sore from screaming. "I'm leaving for good!" He put his hood up on his parka and went out the door.
Fin honked the horn again signalling he'd loaded the van and that it was time to go. "Glad you let 'em have it Pete, but um we should get going."
Pete spoke through tears "Let's go."
Fin turned on the radio and Should I Stay Or Should I Go by The Clash had just started as they drove away.
4
Stitch placed both of their empty mugs in the sink and while his back was facing Pete, he exhaled deeply trying to take in what he'd just been told. It was getting dark outside, which meant Pete had been in Stitch's flat pretty much all day.
He felt really bad for Pete and he had to comfort him somehow, so he pulled a packet of chocolate biscuits out from the cupboard above his head, turned towards Pete and stretched his arm out in an offering gesture, "Choccy biccy?" He spoke in a soft tone.
Pete's eyes were glazed and puffy and red, he looked up and took a biscuit from Stitch, how could he resist when his face was so comforting, his eyes so kind. Pete's heart melted like the chocolate on his fingers and he managed a small "Thanks" and gave a watery smile.
"Hey, no worries." He pushed his hair back and looked at his watch, "Wanna see what's on the telly?"
Pete sniffed back the tears and licked the chocolate off his fingers, "Alright then."
So they went through to the living room and Stitch parked himself down on the sofa next to Pete and used the remote to turn the telly on. He flicked over to BBC where The Young Ones was starting. Stitch's eyes went wide with familiarity at his favourite show, rubbing his hands together rapidly, "I love this show."
Pete cocked his head to the side in curiosity,"What is it?"
Stitch closed his eyes, his jaw dropped and he chuckled, "Wait you- you've never watched The Young Ones ?"
He shrugged, "Parents wouldn't let me watch a lot a telly."
"Oh. Of course." Stitch was meant to be distracting him from all things family related, he was doing a poor job, he turned to Pete and spoke with his hands with passion. "Well trust me you'll love it, it's got music in it too, right and-"
Pete's face showed a look of concern and he let out a quiet, "Wow."
Worried he'd said something wrong Stitch looked worried,"What's wrong?"
He pulled his knees in and hugged them, "Nufin' s'just, 've never seen you this lively, 'angover boy." He let out a little laugh, which was the first time Stitch had ever seen him laugh and it was a beautiful sight. Even though it was only little, it was quite special.
They were a couple of minutes into the show, a bit after Stitch had sung the entire theme song with his eyes closed.
Pete's eyes widened as a cheery tune started to play. "'Oo're they!?"
"That. Is Madness . In my opinion, one of the coolest bands ever."
Pete tilted his head trying to see if he recognised them, then stuck out his bottom lip, "Not 'eard of them."
"Ah well. You'll know all about em soon enough, now that we're friends."
"Oh right." Pete smiled.
"That was well hillarious, side splitting stuff! Can we watch anuva one?"
Stitch's eyes lit up. "Errr. Yeah of course. I can do you one better." He got up and went over to a wooden cabinet by the TV, then pulled out a black VHS tape with a label on that read 'TYOs' in messy writing.
"Recorded the first two, and tonight's." He wiggled his eyebrows.
"Yes please! Haha!"
Stitch walked back over to the video player and popped the tape in, before settling back into the sofa.
The boys watched The Young Ones all night.