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Pete frowns at Patrick.
The small boy is curled up in the corner of the booth, tugging the brim of his old (ancient, even) trucker cap over his eyes. Pete is reminded of when they were much younger, Patrick only thirteen or fourteen, and how he always wore ratty trucker’s caps and overly large hoodies. That particular hat though… there was something about it that Pete should remember, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.
“You’re so not over him,” Mikey comments by his ear. Pete jumps, flailing about a little and nearly whacking the younger boy in the face. He glances over at Patrick, who’s been dragged into a deep in a conversation with Brendon and Tyler about some new musical soundtrack that he “had to listen to because there’s rap in it, and it’s great.” (According to Brendon, anyway.)
“Shut up,” he hisses, trying to fight the blush on his face. “We broke up months ago, and I’m dating Meagan. I’m over him.”
Mikey raises his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “Sure,” he says, nodding diplomatically. “Does Meagan know she’s your beard?”
Pete splutters indignantly. “She’s not a beard!” he protested, “I’m not using her.”
“Maybe not on purpose,” Mikey shrugs. “But you’re not over ‘Trick, and I’m pretty sure everyone but him knows it.”
At this point, Pete decides to ignore his friend, leaning across the table and starting a conversation with Gerard about something or other - he doesn’t really remember it later that night, but it might have been hair dye? The entire rest of dinner, he watches Patrick from the corner of his eye, growing more concerned with each shuddering breath and clenched fist the smaller boy makes.
Pete plans to approach him or Joe after dinner, but they slip away in the chaos of everyone leaving the restaurant. By the time he finds them again, Patrick’s curled up in the passenger seat of his car, forehead pressed against the window as Joe settles himself behind the steering wheel.
Something is wrong, and Pete is determined to find out what to.
“The sad hat!” Pete shoots up from his spot on the floor, eyes wide. Mikey grumbles in annoyance, looking up from the couch.
“What?” he asks, sleep clinging to his voice. He looks at Pete like he’s crazy, and maybe he is, but he finally remembered what the hat Patrick was wearing meant and it’s honestly scaring the fuck out of him.
“‘Trick’s hat, it’s the fucking sad hat, man,” he says, frowning at the floor. Why couldn’t he have remembered when the younger boy was actually in front of him? “He only ever wore - wears, I guess - that hat when something’s wrong, and something was definitely wrong. That was the one he wore almost exclusively when you were in ninth grade.”
Mikey smiles at him a little, resting his chin on the armrest of the couch. “You memorized his hats?” he asks, a little incredulous and more amused than he really should be in this situation. “That’s a little weird, bro.”
Pete scowls at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t have to let you sleep on my couch, you know,” he spits out, not quite meaning the fiery way the words come out. “Yes I remember the fucking hats, he was one of my best friends for years.”
“After me, of course.” The shit-eating grin on Mikey’s face reminds him of why Pete doesn’t let the kid sleepover more. He’s obnoxious when he’s tired. “I’m your favorite.”
“Shut up, ‘Trick has always been my favorite,” he snaps back, sliding down the wall opposite where Mikey’s head is still perched. “I’m so stupid. We dated for two years. I should have known the fucking hat.”
Mikey shrugs, eyes drooping. “I’ve been in the same grade as him since preschool,” he reminds Pete, yawning in the middle of the last word, “I didn’t know about the ‘sad hat.’”
Pete wants to snap something back, but Mikey’s already asleep. He rolls his eyes and leans forward to pat the boy’s head affectionately before hefting himself to his feet and wandering towards his room. The next few hours are spent staring at the ceiling and wishing that he could still call Patrick at one in the morning.
The next group outing - to the zoo, chosen by Brendon, AKA Massive Fucking Child - Pete finds himself bouncing on his toes by the gate as they wait for everyone to show. Everyone else is in deep conversation, even Mikey, leaving him to search for Patrick on his own. Or, well. Mostly on his own.
Andy’s hand rests on his shoulder, gently forcing Pete to stop bouncing. “The animals will still be there in five minutes, Pete,” he teases, voice almost too soft to be heard over the laughing children and chattering teenagers. Pete flushes, eyes scanning the parking lot again.
“Don’t care about the animals,” he mumbles, finally catching sight of Joe’s mane of curls in the distance.
Andy follows his eyes, and frowns when he sees his boyfriend, trailing Patrick behind him. “Ah,” he says softly, nodding in understanding. “I see.”
Joe joins Andy’s side, and Patrick smiles awkwardly at Pete. Pete wishes it wasn’t like this, that Patrick and he were still as close as Frank and Gee, Hayley and Ryan (she tries to deny that they’re still friends, but Pete’s stupid, not an idiot), Lindsey and Gee and Ray. He misses that.
He was still wearing the hat, and Pete felt his heart sink a little. Whatever was wrong when they went to dinner was still wrong.
As the group enters the zoo - Brendon dragging Spencer and Dallon along behind him, a huge, excited smile on his face - Pete settles at Mikey’s side, fingers intertwined with Meagan's. “He’s wearing it again,” he mumbles to Mikey, quiet enough his girlfriend won't hear. His eyes find the back of Patrick’s head. He can see Mikey rolling his eyes from the corner of his own, but he doesn’t care. He’s worried.
“Maybe it doesn’t mean that anymore,” Mikey points out, shrugging a little.
Pete wants to believe he’s right. But he remembers when Patrick wore that stupidly adorable hat for weeks before he came out and his his break up with Elisa in high school. (She had been perfectly nice about it, completely understanding his situation, but the poor boy had felt guilty and terrible for weeks before and after, convinced she thought he was using her.) He remembers the amount of panic attacks he had struggled through, slipping the hat over his hair right after and tugging its bill over his eyes. Pete knows something is wrong.
He waits, watching Patrick practically hide behind Joe for hours, until he and Andy head off to get food. Pete watches them disappear towards one of the booths, and decides to take the opportunity, as Patrick is left standing awkwardly at the edge of the group. Meagan heads off to the bathroom to touch up her makeup, and pee, and whatever else, with Jamia and Lindsey, so he sidles up to the shorter boy - man? No, they're simply boys playing at being men, really - and smiles brightly.
“Hey ‘Trick,” he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his tight jeans. Patrick jumps a little, blushing when he sees Pete beside him.
“Hey, Pete,” he smiles, blue eyes following the cracks in the pavement beneath their feet. “How’s, um, Meagan?”
Pete winces. The last thing he wants to talk about is his girlfriend. He likes her, he really does, but she’s not Patrick. No one can be Patrick. “She’s good,” he shrugs, rolling onto the balls of his feet. “Hey, are you doing okay?”
Patrick looks up with wide eyes, startled by the question. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks, looking a little self-conscious.
“You seem sad,” Pete shrugs, carefully avoiding Patrick’s face. He slides one hand from his pocket, tapping the bill of his cap gently. “You’re wearing this hat.”
“What?” The shorter boy jumps, yanking the sleeves of his sweater over his hands. “You… you remember that? Why?”
Pete shrugs again, watching as Tyler and Josh swing their hands lazily between them. “I remember a lot about you, ‘Trick. We dated for two years, and you were my best friend for years before that. Us not being together anymore doesn’t change that… Please tell me what’s wrong.”
Patrick takes a deep, shuddering breath, biting hard on his lower lip. (Pete has to resist the urge to reach out and pull it away from his teeth.) “It’s not a big deal, I’ll be okay,” he mumbles, glancing up at him quickly before he looks away again.
“Sure,” Pete hums, rolling his brown eyes. “Sounds like it’s no big deal.”
Patrick huffs a little, crossing his arms. “I miss you,” he mutters quietly, not realizing that he’s said it out loud. Pete’s head shoots up in surprise, and a hopeful look appears on his tanned face.
“You what?”
“I, um,” Patrick stutters, face a brilliant shade of red. “Miss you. Us. I...yeah.”
The grin that Pete wears nearly splits his face in half, until he reminds himself of Meagan. Meagan who is sweet, and gorgeous, and funny, and nice. Meagan who is understanding when he stares at his phone waiting for Patrick to call, wanting to hang out, who is supportive and sweet. Meagain, who has never once said she loved him, but that’s okay because he doesn’t love her. He can’t, not when he once had Patrick. No one could/can/will ever compare to him.
“Is that all,” he says instead, a statement more than a question. He leans back on the low wall behind them, crossing his arms casually across his chest and nodding at Joe as he and his boyfriend reappeared carrying three containers of Dippin’ Dots and what looks like a tray of veggie burgers. “Because, while I miss you too - a lot, even - it seems like there’s something else.”
“I… I haven’t been taking my medication... and I’m trying to break a promise to myself.” Patrick’s response is quiet, so quiet that Pete isn’t entirely sure he heard it right. He wants to say something, pry into what the promise is or urge him to take his anxiety medication (because he knows that without it things go bad, fast) but then Joe’s there, shoving Dippin’ Dots into their hands and smiling brightly.
Pete takes his ice cream and eats in slowly, watching Patrick with narrowed eyes. Andy ends up handing him a veggie burger, and he devours that with a hunger he didn’t know he had. Once he’s done, he tries to pay them back, but they won’t have any of it.
“Nah, man,” Joe smiles, eyes sliding between him and Patrick. “It’s on us. We wanted to treat you guys.”
Pete tries again, feeling a bit guilty that they paid for his food, but Andy shakes his head and holds up a hand, and that’s that. They fall into an easy silence, and Pete can almost pretend that it’s before he and Patrick broke up, when they were all like four peas in an oversized pod, but then Frank trips and ends up slamming into Patrick and the spell breaks.
Frank leaps away, apologizing quickly and flicking Mikey off over his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Patrick,” he gasps, worry on his voice that they all know isn’t only because of ‘Trick’s possible injuriy. “I didn’t mean- It was Mikey, he pushed me, I- Please don’t be mad!”
It’s almost laughable, that Frank is scared of Patrick, and Pete would be giggling madly right now if he didn’t know that Frank’s scared because he’s so used to being punished when he fucks up, even if it has been years since his step-father was arrested. He would be laughing, but Patrick is frozen and Frank looks like he’s going to cry and Pete’s not amused - he’s worried.
“Fuck, ‘Trick, you okay?” Brendon asks, rushing over with Dallon in tow. He reaches out to put a hand on the short boy’s shoulder, and Patrick bolts, taking off and disappearing into the crowd. Frank’s face screws up, an effort to keep the tears at bay, and he presses his palms into his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chants. Pete wonders idly how this trip could have gone so wrong so quickly. He makes eye contact with Mikey over the top of Frank’s head (has he mentioned yet just how short he is?) and his friend taps his brother on the shoulder. (Why Gerard wasn’t looking, Pete will never know, but his face when he sees Frank’s tears has him relieved.)
After that, he takes off after Patrick, ignoring Joe, who is telling him to wait up. He’s gotta find Trick, because something’s wrong, and it’s his job to take care of Patrick when something’s wrong, and no one else’s. (He remembers being more than a little offended that he didn’t tell Pete about his anxiety, that Joe knew before him. Or maybe that was just jealousy.)
Pete finds Patrick hiding in the far upper corner of the playground, and he’s thankful that he’s the size of a short teenager and can fit here. “‘Trick, are you okay?” His voice is soft, gentle. He doesn’t want to scare his…friend... away.
“‘M fine,” he says, wiping at his face. Pet frowns, scooting a little closer to him.
“No, you aren’t,” he protests, reaching out to carefully brush his hair away from his face. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Patrick scowls at him. “I’m fine, Pete, go back to your girlfriend.”
Pete curses under his breath, because, right, Meagan. He’s been a bad boyfriend lately, too preoccupied with Patrick to pay her the attention he should. (And he feels awful about that, because she’s a great girl, really, just maybe not the girl for him? He’s starting to see that now - Mikey was right, he’s so not over Patrick.)
“No, she can wait. You’re more important,” he says, leaning back on his knees. His head is practically in his shoulders, because the ceiling of this thing is low, and he’s short but not that short. Frank could probably fit up here, no problem, the hobbit.
“She’s your girlfriend, Pete,” Patrick practically spits the word out, frowning in a way that’s all hard edges and meanness and not like him at all. “She’s always gonna be more important than me.”
Pete’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head vehemently. “Is that how you feel?” he asks. When Patrick nods, his heart sinks. “That’s not true. You’re the most important - you always have been, and you always will be. I don’t love her, Pattycakes, not like I love you.”
Not at all, he thinks, but he doesn’t say it. That’s mean and he likes Meagan, maybe even loves her, but he’s not in love with her.
“Don’t say that, Pete,” Patrick mumbles. “Don’t say that just to make me feel better. I was anxious, and I freaked out, and ran. I’m fine now. You don’t have to say stuff like that. Not to me.”
Patrick was going to say more, Pete knows, but he can’t, because Pete’s lips are on his all of a sudden, and it feels so right. A lot more right than it ever felt with Meagan. Like this is the only person he’s supposed to kiss, ever, and Pete wonders why he ever let this go. He can’t even remember the fight that broke them up in the first place. Was it worth losing this?
‘Trick’s the one that pushes him away. “You have a girlfriend,” he points out, wrapping his arms around himself and looking like he wants to blend in with the yellow plastic that surrounds him. Pete suddenly remembers that they are in a plastic play area that they are much too old to be in, and he thinks now would be a good time to leave.
“I don’t love her,” he says instead, biting on his lower lip. “I think… I think I was just trying too hard to get over you.”
Patrick smiles, small and soft, and Pete thinks that smile could outshine the fucking sun. They slide out of the playground together, and Andy is waiting for them at the bottom of the tube slide with a smirk on his face that says he knows exactly what happened. Pete doesn’t wonder how - Andy is just magic like that.
Pete breaks up with Meagan that night, and she’s perfectly sweet and understanding.
“I don’t love you,” Pete says, twisting the hem of his t-shirt between his fingers anxiously.
Megan smiles a little sadly. “I know,” she says softly. Pete’s thrown for a loop for a second
before he continues.
“I love Patrick.”
“I know,” Meagan says again. “It’s okay,” she adds, shrugging as if to say ‘what can you do?’ Pete wonders how far ahead she saw this coming.
He continues with his speech anyway, because he had practiced it in the mirror for hours before she came over, and in front of Ray and Mikey (who had rolled their eyes, but listened with dramatic reactions, because they’re cool like that) and he wasn’t going to let that go to waste. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I think you’re amazing. I want to be your friend, because I value your part in my life, even if it’s not romantic.” (Or something like that.)
Meagan listens patiently to his speech, smiling and laughing and joking about how ‘it’s not her, it’s him.’ “You practiced that, didn’t you,” she says finally, her only comment when she’s done. Pete shrugs, because of course he did, and she laughs into her hand.
She kisses him on the cheek and leans down to slide her sandals back onto her feet. “I hope you and Patrick are happy together. I want an invitation to the wedding,” she teases, starting for the door.
“Friends?” Pete calls, because he wants some part of her in his life, really. She’s just that kind of person.
She smiles. “Of course. You know my number.” Just before she steps out the door, stops, and looks at him seriously. “It’s okay, Pete,” she informs him. “I don’t love you either. Not like that.” And then she slips away, out of his life. (Not completely, because she keeps her promise to be friends. Of course she does. She’s great like that.)