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"Do you ever want to shout this from the rooftops?"
Patrick looks up from the soundboard and Pete ducks his head, picking at the corner of a yellow sticker. Pete Vox.
It's past three in the morning. Joe and Andy have long gone, and it's just Pete and Patrick here. Pete vox and Patrick vox, when Pete breaks the silence.
"I don't usually want to shout anything from the rooftops."
"You have your moments. Your blog posts."
Patrick hums under his breath and takes his headphones off, and then he looks like normal Patrick again, the version Pete's gotten used to over the past couple of years, no headphones around his neck or microphone in front of him. Seeing Patrick in recording mode is evidence that this is real, that they're together again like destiny proclaimed. Or maybe it was just Pete that proclaimed it. Regardless, it scares the shit out of him. He's not used to the warmth of certainty and rightness that's been burning in the pit of his stomach ever since they started writing again and everything suddenly clicked.
Patrick looks at him, corners of his mouth upturned in that way that means he's already figured out where Pete's coming from. "You don't want to shout this from the rooftops either. You want to blow up the internet. So what's with the inquisition?"
"You know," Pete shrugs.
"I'm as excited about it as you are."
"I know." Patrick's been a songwriting machine. He got into the groove faster than Pete did. Pete has to work to keep up with him, most days.
"I hope you do," says Patrick, and Pete feels his guts untwist.
Patrick twists in his chair and looks at the glowing clock behind them. "Fucking fuck. You don't have to go home?"
"Meagan texted a while ago. Kid's asleep and she's holding down the fort."
"Cool." Patrick yawns. "Okay. You can hang out if you want, but I think we should call it a night."
Pete gets up, following Patrick's lead, and stretches. His back cracks. "Shit," he laughs, loud and unexpected. "Patrick. Why aren't you staying with me?"
Patrick gropes around for his fedora. "Because Butch invited me first."
"The real reason."
"Bronx gets up too early."
"Patrick."
Patrick sighs. "We'll be touring soon enough. Do you think it's smart to be in each other's space around the clock before we have to?"
Pete nods. He can't expect everyone to be as into tempting fate as him. "But you can stay one night. Come on. We had a good day today."
Patrick puts the hat on, but pushes it back so Pete can see his eyes. There's a softness in them that makes Pete feel even warmer. "One night."
"Just one."
"And you'll feed me breakfast."
Pete laughs with relief. "The finest Eggos in the land."
"Okay then." Patrick grabs his bag and moves to the door. "Come on, Wentz."