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Pete Wentz could not believe it.
It was just another post-show party. Or not really a party, since they weren’t technically really celebrating anything, but just one of those occasions where people feed and rehydrate, laugh and talk and do whatever they do after a gig, whatever you called that.
Pete usually stayed at the parties (okay, post-show gatherings), until most people had left. But instead of flying around making a million new friends and being the center of attention, like how most people would imagine him, he mostly just sat and had a few drinks, watching everybody and emptying his mind, and maybe talked a little to a few people he already knew. It was not super exciting for him, but it was fine.
And he was doing fine, too, on this particular night, talking with a few of the sound technicians with a beer in his hand. When he listened to one of the technicians talking, he saw Patrick out of the corner of his eye.
Patrick was smiling. And then he was grinning. A little wider than Pete remembered him usually doing after shows. Maybe he felt great about the show we just did, thought Pete. It was a pretty damn good show. Sometimes, actually quite often, Patrick would be unsatisfied with certain parts of the performance, and he almost always instantly showed it, even before they left the stage. Sometimes he would make an excuse about how tired he was and return to the bus before everyone else does.
Well, it seemed that tonight wasn’t one of those nights. Patrick looked cheerful and energetic, in a vigorous conversation with Joe Trohman and a few venue workers whose names Pete couldn’t remember.
Patrick was laughing now. Through all the music and chatter Pete could hear Patrick’s distinct laugh. Or he thought he could hear it. He might’ve imagined the laugh just from Patrick’s face. He wasn’t really sure.
Patrick leaned against a wall sideways, face to face with Joe, with a plastic cup in his hand. He wore one of his hooded jackets with overly-long sleeves. It’s just the two bandmates talking now. Joe said something and Patrick bent over with laughter, but kept the plastic cup steady.
Pete watched them from a little distance, momentarily distracted from the conversation he was in.
He was glad to see Patrick like this. High-spirited, full of life, and just… genuinely happy. Sometimes when Patrick was not as happy after a gig, he would just sit on a couch, gulp down on his beer and talk to no-one, until Pete approaches him and asks if he’s alright. Almost like he’s waiting for Pete to ask him. And then he would insist that he was okay, and transform back to his usual warm sweet self. It was almost like a ritual. It made Pete feel somewhat special, and… needed. Yes, needed was the word. Pete liked that in secret, a little guiltily though, since it also hurt to see Patrick unhappy in any way.
So on this particular night he felt happy for the happy Patrick. But he also wondered a little if Patrick was waiting for him to approach and share the excitement with him.
And that’s when it happened, when Pete was lost in thought. Pete’s face was on its way down to take another sip of his beer when he saw it.
Pete Wentz could not believe what he saw.
One moment it was just a normal, okay, maybe a slightly more exciting than usual, conversation between Patrick and Joe. The next moment, Patrick and Joe kissed.
Patrick and Joe WHAT?
Pete's eyes shot back up from the plastic cup he was looking down at. Patrick and Joe kissed. They were kissing. Lips against lips. Patrick pressed forward against Joe. One of Joe’s hands was on Patrick’s upper arm. Patrick’s drink was still in his hand.
Pete stared for a while, unable to do anything else. He felt something swelling in his lower throat, and then an uneasy urge to laugh (which he did, out loud), then bizarre confusion washing over him, which made him gape and frown, and then a strange tingle in the crotch that made him blink twice. It must’ve lasted for minutes, for him to feel so much in sequential order. But it might only have been seconds. Pete couldn’t remember. His thoughts eventually circled back to this.
Patrick and Joe were kissing.
And then they weren’t.
Just as quickly as it started, it had now ended. Everything was exactly as they were, as if not a split second had passed. Yet it felt like forever for Pete. What was that? Hadn’t anybody else seen it? Was he having some sort of hallucination? Pete’s mind raced. He sank down into the nearest couch, feeling a little dizzy.
A sudden pat on the shoulder made Pete jump. He spun his head around and saw Andy behind him.
“Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, mate.” Oh, Andy Hurley, the driftwood. Appearing at the exact right place, at the exact right time.
“Did you see that?” Pete blurted out.
“Huh?” Andy was clearly confused by Pete’s reaction.
“Jo- Joe and Patrick. Did you see them?” Pete tried again. He needed someone to understand. Or just someone to give a reaction. Or anything.
“Huh,” Andy laughed, “What’d they do this time, knock something over again?”
Okay, Andy didn’t have the faintest idea what Pete was saying.
Or he’s a good actor and pretended he didn’t have the faintest idea. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Andy was a pretty good actor in that sense. He was the most adept in talking nonsense while keeping a straight face.
“No, I don’t think-” Pete was desperate,
“Oh, hey, Patrick,” Andy suddenly called over Pete’s head.
Pete turned back around. Shit. Patrick was right in front of him. When did he walk over?
“Hey, man.” Pete squeezed out a wide grin. Patrick sat down next to Pete. Pete shifted a little but didn’t really move more than an inch away from Patrick.
“Man, this place smells terrible.” Patrick made a comment, smiling.
“Yeah,” Pete replied, internally thankful that Patrick said something that could start a normal conversation. Because he certainly couldn’t at this moment. “But the show was pretty great, huh?”
“Nah, it was alright I guess.” Patrick shook his head. “I still gotta do something about my crap voice after consecutive shows though. It just gets so bad. My low notes are just... I'm trying.”
Sometimes Pete couldn’t believe how Patrick always had something negative to say about himself. He, for one, thought the show was perfect, maybe not on his own part because he knew he missed a couple of notes, but on Patrick’s part. Patrick sang like a beast. It’s unbelievable how he still nitpicked the tiniest things out of his performances.
But maybe this was what makes him so… so Patrick. Maybe this was one of the reasons he had such an admiration for Patrick’s musical talent. Maybe this, this slightly annoying perfectionism, was part of why he adored Patrick so much. Aside from everything else about Patrick that he adored.
“Patrick. Your voice is absolutely gorgeous as it is.” Pete voiced his thoughts out loud.
Patrick just smiled and shook his head. “You’re always so supportive. I love that.” he replied warmly.
The sight of Patrick’s smile and the words he said gave Pete that swelling feeling in his throat again. Before he could stop himself, he found himself saying,
“So what was that with you and Joe?”
Pete immediately regretted it after he said it out loud. It sounded so dumb. He’d for split second thought he could just laugh it off or change the subject if Patrick denied it, but now he’d said it out loud, it sounded even more stupid and hard to talk around than he’d imagined.
“What with me and Joe?” Patrick blinked several times and his smile shrunk a little.
“... Oh, it’s nothing, it's just some guy told me he saw you- um, heheh, saw you two-” Pete stammered, laughing uncomfortably, trying to find a reasonable way to phrase it.
“-You jealous?” Patrick interrupted him in a lower voice.
“Wh-What?” Pete couldn’t believe his ears.
“I said, are you jealous?” Patrick repeated, sounding darker. His smile was almost gone now. His eyes now stared directly into Pete’s. Pete had to shift backwards a little.
“Well,” he begins, trying to joke around it as always, “I always told you I had some kind of celebrity crush on you.”
“Yeah, you said that in a couple of interviews.” Patrick chuckled, still looking at Pete.
“Well, I wasn’t lying.” Pete chuckled, too, in an attempt to not sound too honest.
But maybe this time he failed to do that. Patrick did not break eye contact but leaned in even closer. Pete didn’t remember ever seeing Patrick’s eyes up so close. They looked green from the usual distance, but close-up they were light blue with a little golden circle. It was beautiful. Patrick wasn’t lying when he denied having green eyes. Pete tried to look away.
“Wait, that’s not-” He opened his mouth but was silenced by a soft touch on his lips.
Wait.
This was not what Pete was expecting.
This was not what he had expected at all.
Maybe he had imagined it before, once or twice. Maybe just a few minutes ago, when he witnessed the kissing scene from a few meters away. But he had never really imagined it. Patrick Stump was kissing him.
Pete Wentz could not believe it.
Pete felt Patrick’s hand on his chest. He couldn’t move. He was just pressed helplessly against the couch, trying to make sense of what’s going on. His eyes were open but he realized that Patrick’s were closed. Patrick’s bangs were in his face. Patrick pulled away in an instant, but not before Pete realized that there’s only a faint smell of beer, much unlike how he remembered a really drunk Patrick would smell like.
After Patrick pulled away they looked at each other for a brief moment. Patrick bit his lower lip and smiled, and then started giggling. Pete had no choice but to start giggling as well. “Yo, Patrick,” they heard someone call from the direction of the bar. Patrick pushed himself up from the couch, from Pete, sharply. "Sorry," Patrick choked in between the giggles. With one last exchange of laughing expressions Patrick hurried off to greet whoever was calling for him.
Pete was left on the couch, slowly stabilizing his breaths. His mind furiously tried to recap the events that just took place. What a night. What a show, and what a party. No, seriously.
WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD JUST HAPPENED?
Across the room, out of Pete’s sight this time, Joe gave Andy a shrug and a triumphant look, while Andy laughed his pants off.