Chapter Text
Early April 2005
Industry parties sucked, and there was no amount of alcohol that could make them easier. In all honesty, Mikey wasn’t a fan of any kind of party with more than ten people anyway. So a party full of big wig industry execs and all of his many competitors equaled the perfect formula for a terrible time. Needless to say, Mikey hung back at the quietest place he could find, long abandoned by the rest of his bandmates. Even Gerard handled this stuff a little better than he did. Mikey found himself checking the time on the cellphone that was surely digging a mark in his hand, praying that the pixels would start changing faster. Eyes glued to the screen, he did not even notice the new presence making its way closer. No, not until the mini heart attack and the quick darting of eyes associated with being interrupted by an unexpected voice.
“Mikey Way! I didn’t know you would be here. This party just instantly got ten times cooler… which is honestly not that cool because this party was lame as fuck to begin with… Um, you make it cool, though!”
And with that Mikey’s gaze went from a tiny digital clock on a mobile screen to a very sheepish Pete Wentz standing right in front of him. The shorter man was scratching his head, surely cursing himself that spoken words never come across as eloquently as written ones. Pete was donned in a white denim jacket, which stood out from most of the other people here (Mikey included) who’s fashion sense was much darker in its color palette. Mikey shot Pete a toothy grin. “It’s cool Pete, I know what you meant. It’s cool seein’ ya too. Nice jacket by the way.”
“Thanks man!” Pete beamed back. “Man you looked miserable over here glued to that phone screen of yours. If I’m interrupting something though-“
“Oh please!” Mikey quickly interjected, “I’m losing my mind over here. I was just watching the time. These things aren’t really my speed.”
“In that case…” Pete trailed off, and then looked around suspiciously, his voice hushing down to secret-telling volume. “I heard there was a Sweet Little Dudes meeting outside, you in?”
Mikey’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Before he knew it Pete was grabbing his wrist and whisking him outside. The world was a blur of forgettable scenes and people he didn’t care about with Pete being the only thing in focus. They eventually found themselves lying in the grass in a secluded spot behind some trees in the backyard of whoever rich guy’s house this was with nothing but the stars to keep them company.
“Much better huh?” Pete chirped next to him, breaking the silence.
Mikey let out a long sigh before he spoke. “Yeah. Thanks Pete. How did you know this was here?”
“I didn’t.” Pete chuckled, “I just trusted my gut that I’d find a place.”
“You got lucky then.” Mikey took a break from staring bullets into the sky to glance at the man laying next to him. Seeing the bright white jacket against the verdant grass made cogs turn in his head. “Y’know Pete, you’re gonna get grass stains all over that jacket of yours”
“Aw man!” Pete whined. Mikey watched as Pete’s face twisted from a look of frustration to an expression that was much more pensive. Seemed like it was Pete’s turn for cog turning. Soon following that pensive face was a smirk that left Mikey a little nervous for whatever words were about to come out of Pete’s mouth. “Take it.”
“What?” Before Mikey could react, a balled lump of denim was hitting in the face.
“Get the grass stains out for me will ya?”
“Pete I-“
“No no no I insist!” Pete smiled brightly at him, not allowing Mikey to finish whatever excuse he could have thought of to escape the burden of a brand new item of clothing. “You said you liked it right? Borrow it for a while and give it back whenever. It’s cool.”
It was definitely a pretty cool jacket. Mikey just hoped he could make white work. “Sure Pete, I’ll get those stains out for you.”
“You’re the best Mikey Way!”
Their bubble of peace in the busy world of a raging party was soon popped by urgent buzzing in the direction of Pete’s phone. Pete ignored the first three or so buzzes but by the fourth he finally checked and looked down at his phone with a growing frown. “Aw man. Patrick’s hurling. Gotta go. Looks like this SLD meeting is coming to a close. Catch you later Mikey Way! You owe me that secret handshake.”
Mikey watched as Pete dashed off as quickly as he came, leaving behind his newly stained white denim jacket.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
June 18th 2005 - Early Morning
“Wait, before we head out can I just double check something really quick?” Mikey calls out just as everyone is about to climb onto the bus.
Mikey’s request is met with a chorus of groans, the loudest of which belongs to Frank Iero. “I swear to god Mikey if it’s about that damn jacket again for the love of fuck it’s in there. You’ve already checked a million times,” Frank complained.
“Just let him check, Frank,” Gerard sighed, “He won’t shut up about it for the next four hours if we don’t.”
Mikey shoots them both a sheepish smile, a way of saying I’m sorry without any words, and dredges through the luggage compartment of the bus. He pushes aside everyone’s suitcases until he finds his own. He curses his past self for being the first person to be awake and loading his suitcase into the bus. Sure he got it over with quickly then but now here he was digging through everyone else’s crap. Finally, he locates it and stretches his arm out to pull it from the back to a safe unzipping distance. Mikey unzips the suitcase slowly, careful to not let anything spill out. Luckily for him, on top of all of his hastily packed belongings was exactly what he was looking for.
Pete Wentz’s jacket has been in Mikey’s possession since early April and now in mid June, the jacket has yet to return to its original owner. Those evil grass stains have been out since the day after the jacket invaded Mikey’s home. His work with the jacket was done and it was in perfect condition, arguably even better than how he received it.
To Mikey’s credit, he did try to return the jacket after wearing it to one of Pete’s shows a couple weeks after the stains were removed. After the show he met Pete backstage and before he could get the jacket off he was met with protests of “Don’t you dare take that off Mikey Way. That jacket looks too good on you.” Thus, Mikey was stuck with it for longer than expected and all the other times he’s seen Pete between now and then have been failed missions for one reason or the other. Mostly due to forgetting the jacket at home. Hence the double triple checking.
Now that it’s confirmed that he definitely didn’t forget the jacket, somewhere, somehow, My Chemical Romance can finally leave whatever random town they stopped at in Pennsylvania halfway and make their way to Columbus, Ohio. Mikey crawls out of the luggage compartment and dusts himself off. “Alright guys, let’s roll.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
June 18th 2005 - Later That Day
The first day of Warped Tour was as uneventful as these types of things can be, Mikey finds. An interview or two to pass the time, but mostly a lot of waiting around in the bus, and more notably a lot of not being able to track down Pete Wentz. It’s almost comical, it’s almost as if Fall Out Boy isn’t here at all. It’s a conspiracy for sure, and Mikey has yet to be proven otherwise. He didn’t even get a chance to watch their set, because the universe had other plans and fated him to have one of the few busy moments of the day colliding with their time slot. It was disappointing, to say the least. Mikey has enjoyed watching Fall Out Boy perform whenever he gets the chance to. Sure, he got to see a few of the other sets that day, but it isn’t the same as seeing one of your friends shining on stage.
Friend. It’s funny, Mikey’s never thought about Pete that way before. They’ve hung out a couple times and go to each other’s shows. Does that make them friends? Or just coworkers in the same industry, who meet up after work sometimes. No, that sounds too corporate, and that world is something completely foreign to the both of them. So would that make them acquaintances? Then there’s the issue of Pete’s jacket that has been in his possession for the past two months or so. Pete wouldn’t share his jacket with just anyone, right? No, clothes sharing had to be at least friend level, not acquaintance level. So, yeah, Mikey supposes they are friends by now.
That elusive friend finally shows his face about halfway into My Chemical Romance’s set when Mikey glances over to the side of the stage in between songs and sees a face belonging to a man who is about to be one jacket richer. Mikey smiles to himself, and starts to play his bass with a little more passion knowing his friend is cheering him on from the sidelines. And also, of course, because he knows then his white denim jacket curse will finally be broken, as soon as he finishes playing, that is.
After Gerard leaves the crowd with his closing remarks, Mikey raises his bass in the air to thank the crowd and quickly shuffles off the stage. He hands his instrument to the waiting hands of the roadie and makes a beeline for Pete, shutting the rest of the world out from his mission. Mikey has to make sure he corners him before he slips away, and Mikey owns the jacket another day. “Pete, wait up!” Mikey calls, raising a hand in a wave.
“Mikey Way! Hey man!” Pete turns his head towards Mikey and grins. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for ya!”
“What? I’ve been looking for you man!” Mikey laughs.
“Of course, I missed your face during my set today. I was hoping you’d show”
“I totally wanted to,” Mikey says, scuffing his foot on the ground, “got wrapped up in something or other. But hey, I got 47 more chances to see it, yeah?”
“You’d better! Sweet Little Dudes gotta stick together.”
“Yeah, they do,” Mikey smiles. “Hey, you got a minute? I’ve got something for you.”
Pete raises his eyebrow at that. “How vague. How could I say no to that?”
“Awesome!” Mikey grabs Pete by the wrist and leads him off to the My Chemical Romance tour bus, the busy world of a summer festival tour blurring around them. When they finally arrive, Mikey lets Pete’s wrist go and points at the couch. “Sit,” he commands, “and don’t you dare move!”
Pete plops down on the couch with a salute. “Got it boss!”
Mikey climbs over the concerning amount of trash he and his band has already generated, towards his bunk, and pulls the curtain aside. “Alright Pete, close your eyes!” Mikey exclaims, finding his ammo, ready, aim, and firing.
When the jacket hits Pete’s face, he looks around for the culprit behind it. When his eyes land on the jacket he chuckles. “Fine, fine, you got me Mikey Way. I’ll take this back. Thanks for getting that stain out man. I never was good at shit like that.”
Mikey walks over to Pete and sits next to him on the couch. “It was overdue.”
“Well anytime you wanna borrow it again, you’re free to take it. It’ll be like Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, but, like, SLD version. Maybe we’ll be in a ‘who wore it better’ spread.” Pete bites his lip and looks Mikey up and down. “Though, I’d think you have me beat on that, Mikey Way.”
Before Mikey can protest, the bus doors swing open and he hears his fellow bandmates bantering their way into the bus. Mikey watches as Pete then rises from his spot on the bus’s couch with a sigh. “Guess that’s my cue. We’re always interrupted too soon, Mikey Way. Catch you later?”
“Yeah,” Mikey says, tone hinting at disappointment. “Catch you later.”