Work Text:
“So.”
Patrick taps his pen against the edge of his clipboard.
“What do you bring to the table?”
Pete grins nervously at him from across the gritty fold out.
“Um. Ever since I was a child, I always loved playing with toys-”
“Right.” Patrick cuts him off, scribbling something on his clipboard. “Can you explain the gap in your resume?”
“I was developing soft skills like…hanging out..and chilling…”
“Patrick!” A bang on the door interrupts them. “What are you doing back there?”
“Job interview!” Patrick calls.
“With Pete?”
“Uh…”
“Get out here. This customer is saying you didn’t stuff his flareon enough.”
Patrick rolls his eyes, dropping his clipboard to the table with a clatter. Pete peers down at it. The only thing on it is a blank sheet of printer paper with jagged zig-zags and spirals doodled at the corners. “Sure, Bob. Be right out.”
Pete waves at him as he squeezes out the door. Bob pokes his head in. “Pete, could you stop wasting Patrick’s time?”
It’s all talk. Bob actually does like Pete, which is the reason he all he does is shake his head at him instead of, say, picking up the phone and dialing mall security. Pete raises his hands. “Hey! I really do want to work here!”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I have to fire you.” Bob stares at Pete until he gets to his feet, shuffling out the storage room. Bob likes him, but not enough to take him on as permanent staff. Not after he got his hand stuck in the stuffing machine and they had to call the fire department. He can already hear Patrick raising his voice at the dissatisfied customer. “I told you, this collection got discontinued last week! If you don’t watch -”
He gets so red whenever he gets mad, which is often. Pete thinks this is hilarious, so he stands in the corner and watches Patrick narrowly avoid strangling the guy. A few minutes and a shouting match later, he wanders over to Pete. “Why is he even here at two on a Wednesday? I bet he doesn’t have a job, fucking…”
Pete studies the frown etched between Patrick’s eyebrows. His face is going to get stuck that way if he keeps working at Build-A-Bear. “I think you need a friendship bracelet.”
“What - no, Pete, I don’t want a friendship bracelet.” Patrick is frowning in confusion now. “I already said no.”
“Why not? Brendon has one-”
Brendon looks over his shoulder from where he’d been theoretically organizing the tubs of bear skins. “Hell yeah!” He flashes the baby blue bracelet stuck on his wrist. Pete obligingly shakes his arms, picking through the small army of accessories covering them until he finds the matching one. It’s got bestie spelled out in pink beads. Pete flips through the bracelets, counting off the names. Patrick, privately, is impressed that Pete can keep track of the laundry list of BFFs.
“Bob has one, Joe, Andy, Hayley, Ryan, Will, Kim, Alicia, Alecia, Billie, Travie, Katie, Chris, Ashlee…basically everyone except you.”
“Because he’s a jealous hag,” Brendon snorts. Patrick sends a poisonous glare his way. “I can fire you.”
“You wouldn’t be jealous if you just took a bracelet,” Pete implores. “You know Mikey’ll give me whatever I want.”
“I don’t need anything from Mikey,” Patrick says flatly. Pete, oblivious, hooks an elbow around Patrick and noogies him. It’s not very effective since Patrick is wearing a hat, but Patrick still makes an effort to kick Pete in the kneecaps as hard as possible. So feisty. Pete loves that.
“I’ll get you a bracelet,” Pete announces. “What colors do you like? Orange? Bright ones? Do you like butterflies or unicorns?”
“I’d like for you to respect my wishes,” Patrick shoves Pete off, straightening his apron with a huff. Pete frowns. “Do you not care about our friendship? Maybe I’ll give another one to Mikey instead…”
“Ok, you don’t need to do that,” Patrick hurries to add, trying for casual and failing quite miserably. Pete knocks the brim of his hat. “That’s what I thought. Wait here.”
He ignores Patrick’s “I work here Pete, I couldn’t go somewhere else if I wanted too…” as he walks away. Something that makes Pete very happy is the way Claire’s is right across the metaphorical street from Build-a-Bear. It’s no chore at all to cross the walkway and slide behind the register, bumping shoulders with Mikey. “Hey.”
“Pete.” Mikey turns, putting his tablet down. “What’s up?”
“I need a hookup,” Pete says seriously. Mikey looks left, right, then back at Pete. “My break isn’t until three.”
“Haha, I’ll remember that,” Pete says. “But I mean, I need another friendship bracelet.”
Mikey nods. Thanks to him, Pete basically runs an underground friendship bracelet laundering ring. He strolls over to the caddy of jewelry, spinning it around absentmindedly.
“Who’s it for?”
“Patrick.”
“He doesn’t have one?” Mikey asks, mildly surprised. “Huh. Well, you know. Just take whatever.”
Pete studies the options, flicking through plasticky jewelry until he finds something to his satisfaction. He has to admit, he’s feeling a bit of pressure with this one. Patrick’s reticence on the whole bracelet thing coupled with his position at the top of Pete’s best friend! list have significantly upped the stakes of this venture (don’t tell everyone else he’s given a bracelet to, please.) Maybe this is why he looks up at Mikey and shakes his head.
“Nothing good.”
Mikey nods ponderously. “We’ll get more stuff next week.”
“I can’t wait that long. Patrick could start PMSing all over the place. It has to be today.” He chews on his lip for a second, then hops up. “Hey, do you still have that bracelet kit thing?”
“We sold the last one yesterday.” At Pete’s kicked puppy look, he rushes to add “But, I gave Gee one a bit ago. He wants to make the band matching ones, I bet he still has some stuff.”
“Life saver as always, Mikey Way,” Pete grins. He holds his hand out for a fist bump. “See you at three?”
“For sure.”
Pete gives a kawaii ice cream cone a pat as he pads out of Claire’s, down the stairs and off to Lush. It’s the only place where Gerard’s…aura isn’t noticeable. The herbal soap smells burn the nasal cavity enough that you don’t notice. Mikey and Ray were very strategic when they put that application on Gerard’s desk.
“Hi Pete!” Mark pops out from behind the register. “What can I do you for today?”
“I’m looking for Gerard.” Pete pokes at a jelly soap display. “Mikey sent me here. He says he has the friendship bracelet kit.”
“A new bracelet! Who’s the lucky guy?” Mark leans over the counter.
“Patrick. I think I finally wore him down.” Mark nods. “Swag. I’ll get Gerard, he’s just hanging in the back.” He leans forward conspiratorially, whispering in Pete’s direction. “We’re doing good on the plan so far. I’ve been backing up the tester sinks so they explode on him, and I’ve been spraying him with this new body mist we got.” He squeaks the bottle accordingly. Pete takes a whiff. It smells like plums. “And I’ve almost convinced him to start using this hair mask we have. I think we’re really close to getting him to take a bath all by himself!”
“Wow. Nice job,” Pete says, mildly stunned. He holds his hand out for a fist bump, which Mark completes, making a little explosion at the end. “Yeah, Mikey’s saying things are going well for him too. Operation: BATHBOMB is finally getting results!” He hops back, rapping his knuckles on the counter. “Let me holler at him.”
Pete resists the urge to sneeze against the nearly overwhelming smell of the store. It’s only a minute, and then Mark is slipping back in with a thumbs up.
“Pete!” That’s Gerard, waving him down as he steps out. His apron is covered in a confusing variety of, like, homemade gothic buttons and Hot Topic spiderman enamel pins. The heavy eyeshadow he sports would put him right at home there, but the manager took one sniff of him and said no.
“Hey Gerard. Mikey said you took the last bracelet kit. Can I borrow it?”
“Yeah, ‘course! You can just go in the back, it’s in my cubby. I made some extras if you want one.”
Pete has to dig around Gerard’s bag to find the plastic bracelet kit, buried under sketchbooks with melting spines, ink-stained micron pens, single-issue comics and an extremely old tangerine. True to his word, there’s a stash of bracelets tucked into one of the compartments. Pete’s glad. He likes making them, but Gerard’s got way better color sense than him.
A pair of bracelets catches his eye. One is yellow, with a cuddly teddy bear charm clipped on. There’s another one done in red with a rather grotesque snarling bear head. Gerard probably made it himself, which is sick. Pete takes the two and slips them onto his arms. The yellow will match Patrick’s uniform perfectly.
He shows his choices to Gerard on the way out. He nods approvingly. “Hey, could you give this to Mikey when you see him?” he asks, handing a folded piece of cardstock to Pete. It has a lollipop taped to the front.
Gerard and Mikey live together. They’ll probably see each other in three hours, when their shifts end, but Gerard gets kind of paranoid sometimes. Pete feels like he should understand - he’s also an older brother, but. Gerard is weird. Pete is weird too, but not like that, and Mikey’s weird is almost the same as Pete’s which is probably why he likes him so much. Patrick is weird in the opposite direction, but he’d never admit it. Fuck star signs - Pete bets he could chart relationship compatibility based on relative weirdness, and be ten times more accurate. He’d applied as a tarot reader at the crystal shop but was soundly rejected when he’d pulled a clefable card from the deck instead of a two of cups. Oops.
Pete takes the card, sticking it in his pocket. “My payment for the bracelets. Also, me and Patrick might steal Mikey for the night, just so you know!”
A customer walks in before Gerard can reply and Pete makes his exit, waving a cheerful goodbye to him and Mark. He traces his steps, back up the stairs and to the east side of the mall, stopping at Spencers to harass Andy before slipping back into Claire’s.
“Mikey, Gerard has something for you!” he calls, waving the card in the air. Mikey shoots a look at him from where he’s scanning a pop-it pencil case for a customer. Pete hangs by the squishmallows until they leave, and then he’s vaulting over the counter and holding the card out. Mikey it takes it from him, rolling his eyes. “I want to keep my job, Pete. You might not understand but…”
“Ouch,” Pete grabs the counter for support. “It’s almost three, Mikeyway. Are you going to abandon me?”
Mikey hums, still looking at the card. He sticks the lollipop in his mouth. “Depends. What are you offering?”
A sudden clatter, then raised voices interrupt the suitably charming response Pete was crafting in his head. Him and Mikey poke their heads out of Claire’s. Bob and Patrick are standing outside of Build-A-Bear, Bob pinching the bridge of his nose. Patrick looks unrepentant. Pete creeps closer, until he can hear the lecture Patrick is most certainly receiving.
“...you need to cool down. I’m giving you a fifteen minute break. Take a smoke.”
“I have asthma.”
“Then huff your inhaler for fifteen minutes!”
Pete watches Patrick angrily tug his apron over his head, knocking his hat off in the process. He turns to pick it up with a grumble but Pete’s there, holding the cap out.
“Oh. Hey Pete.”
“Patrick! You’re on break!”
Patrick’s face twists into a scowl. “I wouldn’t be, if that fucking…”
“Shh.” Pete places a finger on Patrick’s lips. “Look. I got you a friendship bracelet.”
He takes the two of them off his wrist, holding them out to Patrick. He’s been planning on giving him the cuddly bear, but on second thought, the grimacing angry bear might be a better fit. Patrick studies them. “They sell these at Claire’s?”
“Gerard made them.” Pete shakes his hands. “Pick one. So now, whenever you see it, you’ll think of me and our true blue friendship!”
“They’re not blue,” Patrick mutters, because he loves being pedantic, but all the fight has bled out of him. He must’ve spent all his anger on the customers. He picks the red one when Pete offers it to him, sliding it over the sweatband on his left wrist. Pete puts the yellow one on his own hand, then grabs Patrick’s wrist with his other.
“Hey!” Patrick yelps. Pete pulls out his phone. “I’m putting this on my story!”
He snaps a pic of their wrists pressed together, Patrick’s mostly empty and Pete’s laden with accessories - though the bright yellow bracelet stands out very well, in his opinion. He spends several minutes hemming over what song to tack on, finding a few choice gif stickers to place, and adding #bffs4ever and tagging Patrick’s account. By the time he’s done Patrick’s lost interest and is scrolling through Instagram on his phone.
“Hey.” Pete jolts a little in surprise when Mikey leans over his shoulder, looking at his phone. He nods in approval when Pete shows him the story. “It’s three.”
“Already?” Pete looks between Mikey, and then Patrick, who’s still looking at his phone but clearly in that way where you just pretend you’re busy so you don’t have to talk to someone. “Fuck. Patrick just went on break too, so…”
“Huh.” Mikey and Pete look at each other, then at Patrick. He sighs loudly, clicking his phone off. “It’s fine, you two can go fondle or whatever, I’ll just-”
“Let’s go to Cold Stone.”
“What?” Patrick blinks at Mikey. He holds a gift card up between his fingers. “Gee gave me this. It’s twenty-five bucks for Cold Stone. Want some?”
“You’re so genius, Mikey,” Pete says, grabbing Mikey and Patrick by the wrists. “Let’s go!”
They don’t protest as they’re dragged along to the ice cream stand on the first floor. Patrick, still a little mercurial from his forced break, flops down by one of the plastic tables, and Pete takes a seat next to him. Mikey leaves with an I'll order.
“Hey Patrick? Do you think you would ever go blonde? Like Mark?” Pete asks,
“Mark Lee? No, why the hell would I do that? Aren’t you the hair guy? Are you planning on bleaching your head?”
Pete opens and shuts his mouth. “I wasn’t. Two seconds ago.”
Mikey returns, pulling the seat next to Pete out and sitting down. He hands him a cone. “Here. Got your KitKat mix-ins.”
To Patrick’s surprise, Mikey turns and hands him a cone too. “Mint chocolate chip, right?”
Patrick nods, cautiously accepting the ice cream. He takes a lick. “Thanks.” A thought occurs to him. “How do you know my order?”
“You come here every Friday.” Mikey takes a sip of his milkshake as Patrick frowns at his cone.
“So Mikey,” Pete starts, “Have you ever thought about going blonde?”
Mikey cocks his head thoughtfully. “Kinda. But not that seriously.”
“Well, I think you would look great blonde. I’m gonna do it after my shift today, you should come over. I’ll do it for you! We can match!”
Mikey shrugs. “That sounds fun, but Gerard was talking about going platinum soon. I don’t wanna just do the same thing.”
Patrick tears his eyes away from his ice cream to roll them. “Well they haven’t done it yet, have they? If you do it now they’ll be copying you.”
Mikey blinks at him “Yeah. That’s true.”
“We’re going to look so hot,” Pete promises. “Uh, actually, I’m out of developer though, so-”
“Yeah, I’ll drive you to Sally,” Patrick sighs, put-upon. “I need to make sure you don’t melt all your hair off anyways.”
“You failed chemistry,” Pete shoots back. “And you know I would rock the bald look, don’t even front.”
“Uh, we all remember the time you got drunk and buzzed half your scalp and that was not a look, trust me…”
“Hey,” Mikey adds. “Leave being bald to the professionals, Pete. Like Patrick.”
“Hey!” Patrick squawks. Pete laughs at him, ice cream melting down his fingers, so Mikey offers him a sip of his milkshake. Patrick shakes his car keys threateningly at them, and his friendship bracelet clatters noisily. Maybe Pete will get all three of them to go blonde tonight. Things are looking up.
(He doesn’t get Patrick to go blonde, but he does bleach his eyebrows after he falls asleep. Patrick doesn’t speak to him for three days. Which is weird, because Pete sees a text notification from him on Mikey’s phone two days after the incident, asking what smoothie flavor he likes.)