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"Mikey Way, huh?" His smile was charming, brown eyes bright as he eyed Mikey.
Mikey nodded. "That'd be me. Pete Wentz, yeah?" It wasn't really a question. He knew who was Pete Wentz and who wasn't, and this was sorta Pete Wentz.
Pete's smile went less phony and he looked Mikey up and down. "Correct. Yknow, I didn't think you'd be this pretty."
Mikey's face was heating up, but he made sure not to break his emotionless expression. Not even a crack. "I didn't think you'd be this bold." He answered.
Pete made a face, shaking his head. "You thought wrong, baby boy."
It wasn't the only thing Mikey thought wrong about. He paced back and forth. When'd it start? When did Pete fall out of love with him? More importantly, why?
Pete's hands were lingering on Mikey's hips, the same way his mouth lingered on Mikey's lips. "Fuck," He said breathlessly, nudging his nose against Mikey's
Mikey's glasses were fogged over. He pressed himself closer to Pete, determined to eliminate any and all space between the two. "Yeah?" Mikey's lips quirked into a tiny smile.
Pete kissed him again and again, harder each time. "Mikey Way, I'm so in love with you." He whispered. And he meant it.
Mikey shut his eyes, and stumbled a quick, "I love you, too."
Quick. That was the problem. Too many feelings for one short summer. Pete felt everything intensely: it was a soft sepia to Mikey.
Mikey snuck into Fall Out Boy's bus every time Pete didn't sneak into My Chemical Romance's. There were so many nights beneath or next to Pete that they started to blend together for Mikey. It didn't make it any less special, though.
Mikey went outside to smoke. Pete didn't. Pete just went outside to be with Mikey, their hands intertwined, stars high above them.
Mikey lit a cigarette and laid back on his couch, staring at the ceiling. His free hand twitched at his side. It shouldn't be free. It should be Pete's.
Mikey woke up and crawled out of bed. Pete left early that morning for a show. Mikey trudged through the bus until Gerard stopped him, hand on his brother's arm. He smiled when Mikey made eye contact.
"Hey, tell Pete to be quieter next time he's over." Gerard said, smile splitting into a full grin.
Mikey's face reddened. "Uh...uh, ye-eah. Okay. i'm sorry," He stumbled through the words, rushing to the bathroom. He didn't look like himself in the mirror. His eyeliner was smudged from last night's occurrences, and he looked exhausted. And...and there was something written on his arm.
Mikey frowned and looked down.
EASY.
Easy. He guessed he was.
Mikey didn't bother to scrub it off. He went to his show like that. Pete usually would come watch him: but not today.
Pete was in his bunk that night, straddling Mikey's hips and pinning his arms above his head. The message had faded away throughout the day, probably from sweat. Mikey tried not to think about it.
"I love you," Pete whispered into his neck, before biting him.
Mikey hissed at the feeling. "Okay." He said quietly, but he started to not believe him.
Mikey let his eyes slide closed as he took another drag. Maybe that's where it went wrong.
The next morning, Frank pointed out the sharpie on his arm. Mikey glanced down, afraid to see what it'd be this time. He snapped his eyes shut the moment he saw it, irritation building up. He wasn't just 'easy'. No, he was something else now.
FUCKED.
He was definitely fucked, now and then, physically and literally.
Mikey knew it was happening before Pete even opened his mouth to speak. The way he was looking at Mikey was different. His eyes were full of regret.
"Hey...can we talk?" Pete asked softly, putting his hand where the faded marker was left.
"No, because I already know what you're gonna say." Mikey replied, pulling his arm away from Pete's rough fingertips.
Pete looked taken aback. "What do you think I'm going to say?"
Mikey's lips twisted into a wry smile. "That you're going to break up with me, even though we were never dating. But you're going to do it in some poetic way, and I don't want to hear it."
An of course he was right. Pete had said his poetic bullshit anyway, and Mikey cried, because Mikey didn't want Pete to leave him. Mikey was crying a little now, remembering how soft Pete looked in the light of the setting sun.
"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you." Pete repeated over and over as he held Mikey close.
Mikey sobbed softly. "No, you don't." He said pushing Pete away. He hated crying in front of Pete. He felt weak.
"I do, Mikey. And that's why I'm doing this, because I don't want to ever fall out of it. I want to love you forever." Pete said, eyebrows furrowing.
"You want to love the thought of me forever."
It'd been a long time. Too long for Mikey to still care about it. Mikey never thought he'd not care about it.
Pete stood up quietly, leaving Mikey small and alone and angry and upset and a million other things on the grass outside. Before he walked away, Pete spoke. "Do you wanna say anything?" He asked quietly, but it was more of a statement.
"All I wanted was you."