High On Infinity, Chapter Four

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fall Out Boy.

Author's Note: So in this chapter, things really start to happen.
Things have not been all that great. Actually, they've been really shitty. A kid from my area died recently, as have a lot of other people (none of whom I knew very well, just people I've been hearing about a lot), so death has been in the picture quite often as of late. It's not that MY life is tough right now - I didn't really know any of the deceased closely - but more that a lot of other people are in pain, and it's just been one of those things that has affected everyone in some way.
Oh, and just a side note to you assholes that think joking about death is funny: it's not. Someday you're gonna lose somebody close to you, and you'll want people to be respectful to you. Just because you aren't in pain right now, that doesn't mean you can be a douche to the people who are. Show some goddamn respect, you pricks.

Name: High On Infinity
Pairing: Patrick/Pete (Fall Out Boy)
Genre: Humor, Romance
Rating: PG-13

Chapter Four
If there was someone I had been expecting to be ringing my doorbell at two o’clock in the morning, it sure as hell wasn’t Pete.
“Pete?” I rubbed my eyes. I’d only fallen asleep ten minutes before. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you home?”
“You said you wanted a love song,” he explained. He was panting. I looked around him to see a bike lying on my lawn. I pointed at it, and he waved my hand away. “Ashlee would’ve heard the car.”
“So you biked here?” I asked incredulously. “That must’ve taken like half an hour! Why are you here, anyway?”
“You said you wanted a love song,” he repeated. He tossed something at my feet. I looked down to see all four of our band’s CDs lying on the floor. “Well, there it is.”
I stared. “Um… There what is?” I asked stupidly. I’m fucking retarded. He had just thrown all of his feelings at me – literally – and I didn’t get it.
“There’s your damn love song,” Pete replied, suddenly bold. He grabbed a CD and held it up to me. “Every goddamned song, every single one… You always asked, and I always lied, because I knew that there was no fucking way you would ever want me, okay?”
My mouth almost fell open. I put my hands behind my back and pinched myself. No way was this really happening…
Pete kept going, possessed by years of silence. “Jesus, Patrick, I can’t believe you didn’t see it. Every time I wrote something, I thought of you. Every time I heard you talking about my wife…” He shook his head desperately. “I couldn’t stand it. I knew you were right about it all. I should have been with you, but no. She was there. I had to think of you every time I said ‘I love you’ to her just so it wouldn’t be a lie.” He grabbed my shoulders, looking into my eyes with a beautiful kind of pain. “I love you. More than I could ever say.” He looked down at the CDs. “These… They’re just not enough to explain it. I keep trying with every song, but it never works.”
I couldn’t say a word. I was still stuck in the thought that this had to be a dream. How could Pete Wentz really be on my doorstep, saying that he loved me? The fantasies I’d been having since college were suddenly a reality.
All I could say was, “Why?”
That threw him. “Huh?” Everything poetic seemed to drop out of the situation. He blinked. “W-What?”
“Why?” I asked again, wanting to smack myself. Shut the fuck up, you retard! Take whatever you can get! “Why the hell would you be in love with me?”
“I…” Pete looked around. “I… Are you seriously asking me this?”
“Yes, I’m seriously asking you!” I snapped. “If you can’t tell me why, then why would you tell me you love me in the first place?”
Pete, to my surprise, blushed. “It’s just…” He looked shyly at me. “You have to promise you won’t laugh.”
I couldn’t have come up with a less funny situation if I tried. I promised him.
Pete brushed his fingers across my cheek, and I shivered. “You’re so generous,” he said quietly, soothingly. “With everything. You’d give anything to make someone else happy.” His fingers made their way from my sideburn to my chin. “You’re always willing to help people, even the ones you don’t like.” His fingers slipped to the high collar of my jacket. “You’re so polite, so gentle, so innocently kind…” He snapped open the first button. My skin went hot, and my stomach turned in fluttering knots. “Your voice, your smile, your laugh…” He seemed overcome, his voice growing husky. He leaned in and kissed me gently. His lips were soft and fit against mine like a puzzle piece.
This was definitely real.
God wouldn’t be cruel enough to taunt me with a dream like this.
I kissed him back, soft and nervous. My hand shook as I reached it up to run through his silky dark hair. His tongue found mine, and he groaned passionately, a sound that I never thought I would hear, especially not directed towards me…
Pete lightly threw my hat aside and kicked the door closed. He pushed my back against it, his movements still slow and deliberate. He clicked open the buttons on my jacket. My hands were already under his shirt, ghosting over the tough stomach and perfect chest. I moaned in spite of my attempts not to look desperate. I hadn’t had sex in close to two years, and this was Pete. I don’t think I could get more desperate.
I felt his fingers begin to pull up my shirt, and I froze. He pulled away, concerned. “What?” he whispered.
“I…” My face must have been bright pink. “I’m a little… I’m… Kind of… Uncomfortable with my weight.”
Pete’s eyes softened, and he gave a small, breathy laugh. “Is that what you’re so scared about?”
I looked down at my feet. Pete nudged my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Pat,” he said seriously. “I know what you look like, okay? You’re perfect.” He kissed me again. “I love you.”
My throat constricted, and, for some strange reason, I wanted to cry. “I love you too,” I muttered shakily. I kissed him more deeply. “Ever since I met you, I’ve loved you. I was always so scared to tell you…”
Pete gave me a miserable look. “I wish one of us would have said something,” he whispered. “Think of all the hurt we could’ve avoided.”
I bit my lip guiltily. Pete slipped his hands under my shirt again, kissing my neck. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re together now.”
Those words ignited a fire in us both. We kissed with renewed passion, becoming more and more fervent. I pulled Pete’s shirt off, then my own, not caring how I looked anymore. He pressed himself against me hungrily as I hurried to undue his belt. He slid down my body and used his teeth to unbutton and unzip my jeans. It wasn’t long before we were making love on my couch.

Author's Note: The next chapter will be very, very smutty (it was originally all one chapter, but I chopped it up so that people could ignore the sex if they wanted). You've been warned - please read and review!

High On Infinity, Chapter Three

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fall Out Boy.

Author's Note: This chapter was kind of an asshole to me when I was putting it on Ficwad. I had to upload it four fucking times. Still, I found this chapter to be my favorite. And no - I don't know what a screw to the urethra would do to the human body, but I'll be damned if I'm not amused by the idea. The last three chapters were originally only one chapter, but I've decided that it's only fair to separate the smut from the rest of the story. That way, you can cut it out if it's not your cup of tea.

Name: High On Infinity
Pairing: Patrick/Pete (Fall Out Boy)
Genre: Humor, Romance
Rating: PG-13

Chapter Three
The lights were blinding. We were playing a small charity gig, nothing impressive, but the auditorium we were in was lit up like a joint on 4-20. All I could feel were guitar strings under my fingertips, my mouth forming the words “dance, dance” and Pete’s head resting gently on my shoulder. I felt the last one most of all. It was enough to make a guy forget the words to a song he’d played a hundred times before.
Fortunately, that didn’t happen.
I always marveled at the way Pete did that. It never fails – every show, he winds up at my shoulder, his sweat-soaked hair brushing my neck. I wonder if the crowd ever saw an enamored expression on my face, because “enamored” is the only way to describe the feelings that any contact with Pete brought up. He was more than a friend, or a band mate, or a crush – he was the personification of everything right with the world.
As I began to play “Hum Hallelujah,” I thought about how much I hated the song. Not because it was poorly written – the words were just as beautiful as any others I had seen come from Pete’s pen. It wasn’t even the heartbroken tone of the song. It was what it stood for more than anything else.
As with all of Pete’s songs, I asked what it meant. Who was it for? Why was it written? Was it autobiographical, or general, just a few words scratched out about a feeling once felt put not pinpointed, known but not identified?
“I wrote it a long time ago, when Ashlee said she didn’t want to get married,” he answered, fiddling with his wedding band. “I was bitter.” He smiled at me. “I guess I have to take it back now, though, don’t I?”
I didn’t want him to take it back. I wanted him to remember it, keep it in his heart, let it fester, and then let it rot their relationship from the inside out.
I never said I wasn’t vindictive.
The words “sometimes we take pills” never failed to put a shudder through me. I knew Pete felt it as we played, and he glanced questioningly up at me. I tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but I couldn’t help it.
When Pete had tried to kill himself, that day became the worst of my life. I got the call from him, and I felt so Goddamn far away, so helpless. I couldn’t be there with him. I couldn’t save him, I couldn’t even try. That was someone else’s job.
But it was supposed to be my job.
After that day, nothing could faze me. I still don’t know if that was good or bad. I barely felt it when my dad hung up after hearing me admit that I like guys. I think it would have hurt worse to have my mom not send me a Christmas card like she always did had I not gone through what I had.
How can anything compare to almost losing the person you love more than your own life?
I found my voice shaking, and I tried to steady it. It was a challenge just to keep my breath from catching on tears I’d forgotten I’d had. Something about the adrenaline, the heat, and the beating heart of the love of my life next to me had flipped a switch.
We went off the stage to screams of happiness, but I was shaking. What the hell is wrong with me? I thought.
But when I saw Ashlee and baby Bronx, I realized it.
It was their job to save him from now on.
That opportunity would never be mine.
“Hey, my big bad rock star!” Ashlee cooed, kissing Pete in a way that made it look like she was trying to scoop his tongue out of his mouth with her own. Joe cast me a look as he packed up his guitar. I kept my eyes on my own guitar case.
“There’s my two favorite girls,” Pete said when he finally came up for air. Andy and I exchanged glances that said, “Well, no shit.”
“Pete, we’re going out for a drink. Wanna come?” Andy was checking his stupid watch again. I tossed a shirt at him.
“If we’re going to a bar, you’re gonna want to be fully dressed.” I stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. “Especially if we’re going to the kind of bar that makes appletinis.”
“Hey, shut the fuck up,” Andy snapped, pulling on the shirt. “They’re a good drink.”
Joe just laughed. “Sometimes I think you’re gayer than Pat.”
Andy shrugged. “I think most people are gayer than Pat. Pat’s just not very gay.”
Joe nodded. “Not very gay at all.”
“A terrible excuse for a homosexual,” Andy added.
“Truly the straightest of the gays.” Joe shook me slightly. I rolled my eyes.
“There’s just nothing gay about Pat,” Andy concluded.
Pete laughed. “You mean except the ‘having sex with guys’ thing?”
“To them, that’s a minor detail,” I reminded him. “So, are you coming with us or not?”
Ashlee was shooting him a dangerously bitchy look, but Pete shrugged. “Yeah, sure. We haven’t done anything in a while.”
“Two and a half weeks.” Andy checked his watch (which also had the date, moon cycle, and a calculator). “And even then you picked up a couple pizzas and left.”
Ashlee turned on her heel and stormed out, angry, I’m sure, that she wasn’t the center of attention. It didn’t matter – Pete was coming with us, and that’s all that any of us cared about.
The bar that we went to was one that we had discovered in college, not long after we began playing together. It was pretty much a gay bar – most of the patrons were gay – but it had nothing to do with leather or sex, like the kind of places you see on TV. For a bar, it was pretty classy, with nice plush couches and fat armchairs sitting around the dance floor. I ordered a Coke (I’ve never been much of a drinker). Joe and Pete wanted Budweiser. Andy was left ordering the girliest thing on the menu – the brand new chocotini.
“Omigawd, how fetch!” Joe squealed when the chocotini was plunked on the table. Andy glared and gave it a small sip.
“How is it?” Pete asked.
“Not bad.” Andy took another drink. “Like an alcoholic Tootsie Roll.”
“I wanna see your Tootsie Roll,” Joe said in a deep, half-pedophile voice, and I nearly choked on my Coke. Joe was pretty funny when I wasn’t the butt of his jokes.
Andy, for what was probably the fifth time in his life, blushed. “Dude, not here! There are gay dudes here! They might think I’m…” He lowered his voice. “You know.”
“If you keep drinking chocotinis, then yeah, they will think you’re… You know.” Pete took a drink and looked around. “Man, I really missed this place.” He gave me a grin. “I almost forgot how fun it was to get out of the house.”
“Hey.” A guy who I recognized from the light from my bedroom window appeared at my shoulder. The last time I’d seen him, his head was on my pillow.
Seeing as I had only ever had sex with three people, and it had been a good year and a half since I had even kissed somebody, I couldn’t help but recognize him. He didn’t seem to recognize me – or, if he did, he kindly ignored me in favor of resting his gaze on the drink in Andy’s hand. Andy gulped, and Joe smirked.
Joe smirked, that is, until another guy showed up, giving him the same up-and-down stare Andy was receiving.
“You two wanna dance?” the second one asked with a cheery grin. I noticed then that the two of them had handkerchiefs in their pockets – the one leering at Andy had a leopard-print one in his right pocket, while the one making eyes at Joe had a teal one poking out of his left pocket. Having learned more about ‘70s gay culture than could possibly be useful, I recognized the symbols easily.
And decided that it was time to pay my asshole friends back for everything they’d ever done to me.
“Of course they do!” I chirped, grabbing the drinks from my friends’ hands and giving them to a waiter to take away. “Just a little shy, that’s all.”
Pete surprised me with his willingness to participate in the torture. “Yeah. They don’t think they’re very good dancers,” he said in a stage whisper to the two. I had to keep my eyes on the tablecloth to keep from laughing. Joe’s face was contorted in shock, and Andy’s mouth was moving with nothing but tiny squeaks and hisses coming out.
“They’re also a little worried they’re not, you know…” Pete dropped his voice sympathetically. “Attractive.”
The two men gave Andy and Joe a quick, sad glance.
“But hey.” I tapped Andy’s man on the wrist. “Why don’t you prove them wrong? I’m sure they’d love to get to know you two.”
“Well, sure!” the second said, grabbing the stunned Joe’s hand. “Don’t worry about a thing, boys. You’re in good hands.” He gave Joe a wink and he and his partner pulled their prey out to the dance floor.
The second they were out of sight, I threw a few bills down on the table, turned to Pete, and said, “Let’s run for it.”
Pete looked even more shell-shocked than Andy and Joe just had. “Run for it?” he repeated quietly. “You mean… Ditch them?”
I shrugged. “They’d do the same to us, wouldn’t they?”
He looked caught. He glanced back at the writhing dance floor, then stared at the door.
He jumped up. “Come on, let’s go before they see us.”
We raced out, hitched a cab, and laughed our way back to my house. By the time we got in the door, I was ready to collapse from howls.
“Did you see the handkerchiefs?” I sobbed, grabbing onto the counter for support.
Pete could only nod. He was trying to get his breath back, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Do you know what they meant?” I asked.
Pete shook his head, still rocking with laughter.
I took a deep breath. “Andy’s guy,” I giggled, “likes tattoos. No big deal.”
Pete shook his head again, managing a tiny, winded, “No big deal.”
“The other guy…” I had to fight back the laughter that I knew was coming back. “The other guy is a genital torturer.”
That was it. Pete slipped to the linoleum with laughter so harsh that it was silent. I finally joined him, sliding down the cabinets to my knees.
It must’ve taken us a good fifteen minutes to get over it. By the end, we were wiping our eyes and gasping for air.
“Ohhh, man,” Pete muttered, still chuckling. “Oh. God, poor Joe.”
“Fuck Joe,” I replied. “He once tied me to a doorknob and paid a homeless guy to pee on me. I think the time’s right for a little revenge.”
“He got a homeless guy to pee on you? Where the hell was I?”
“It was back in high school.”
“Wow.”
“Joe was a dick in high school.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
I took a deep breath and leaned back against the cabinet. “I’m surprised I don’t feel guilty.” I looked over at Pete. “I bet you missed this kind of stuff, huh?”
“Yeah. Marriage will do that.” He gave me a tiny smile. “Listen.” He sat up a little straighter, suddenly serious. “Listen, man. It’s just me and you right now.”
I nodded, trying to ignore a quivering deep in my stomach.
“So you can be perfectly honest?”
“Of course, Pete.”
“Why is it that you hate Ashlee?”
I groaned. That was the last thing I wanted to talk about. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious!” Pete grabbed my shoulder. “Why don’t you like her?”
“Maybe because you never shut the hell up about her.” I stood up and began pacing. “Just… I don’t like her, okay?”
“But why?” Goddamn, he was persistent.
“Because, she just…” I shook my head, frustrated. “I don’t know the words.”
“Just try.”
I puffed out my cheeks, trying to think. I finally exhaled. “I guess she just doesn’t see what she has.”
“What do you mean?”
I was in hell. Why the fuck didn’t he want me to describe it. “She’s a bitch” just wouldn’t suffice?
“Just… Think about it.” I snatched off my hat and ran a hand through my hair. “You give her everything. I mean, you have a kid with her, and she doesn’t fucking care. You marry her, and she doesn’t fucking care. You buy her anything and everything, you’re her slave, and she doesn’t fucking care!” I shook my head. “No offense, but you fucked up pretty bad, picking someone so Goddamned unappreciative.”
Pete looked stunned at my honesty. It was like I’d just stabbed his dog in front of him.
“Jesus, Pat, where’d all that come from?” he breathed.
“You told me to be honest!” I snapped. “I hate her. I thought you knew that.”
“Well, yeah, but… Wow.”
“I told you. If you don’t want to know, maybe you shouldn’t ask.” I leaned back against the fridge, crossing my arms. “All I know is that I’d fucking kill to have someone write a love song for me.”
He didn’t answer. After a few minutes of sitting, still slumped on the floor, he stood, brushed himself off, and left without looking back.
About an hour later, Andy and Joe threw themselves inside, looking angry as hell. “What the hell was that shit?!” Joe shrieked, throwing a vase at me (fortunately missing). I noticed his shirtsleeve was torn, and Andy’s shirt was gone. Which wouldn’t have surprised me, but he had his arms wrapped protectively around himself.
“I feel dirty, Pat,” he moaned. “So fucking dirty…”
It took everything I had not to laugh. I wanted to stay in a pissy mood, but it was getting more and more difficult every second. Joe limped in, his eyes crazy and glued to me.
“Do you know why I’m limping?” Joe asked dangerously.
“I… Can guess,” I said quietly. I had to hold a hand in front of my mouth to disguise my grin. He looked way too insane to piss off.
“I’m limping,” Joe explained quietly, “because I just had a screw shoved halfway up my penis.”
That was it, I couldn’t help it. I broke down. My abdomen ached from laughter. “A screw?” I screamed. “A screw? Why the hell did you let him near your cock?”
“I HAD TO PEE AND HE WAS HELPING ME!” Joe shouted. That just made it worse – I was crying. “I thought he was just being nice!”
“What about you?” I choked, looking over at the still-white-and-shuddering Andy.
“He touched me, Pat. He touched me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Joe snapped. “You didn’t have hardware in your pecker.”
“He grabbed a nipple, Pat!” Andy shouted, making me jump. “A fucking nipple!” He pointed at the pink spots on his chest. “These are MINE, Goddammit! MY nipples!”
“I can see that,” I gasped.
Andy grabbed me by the shirt and hauled me up, shaking me violently. “You know I put out when I’m drunk!” he yelled. “You know, and you took advantage of me!”
“No I didn’t,” I told him. “That guy at the bar took advantage of you.”
Andy threw me down and skulked to the fridge. “You are the biggest asshole I have ever fucking met.”
“With the biggest ass I’ve ever fucking seen,” Joe added for good measure.
Even that couldn’t faze me. Fat jokes couldn’t invade on the sweet entertainment of watching Joe grab an ice pack and slap it over his crotch.
“You know, if you hate me so much, maybe you should get out of my house,” I told them. All they did was glare. Joe rearranged his pack and winced.
I snickered. “Sorry, guys.”
“Whatever.” A cold root beer had calmed Andy down considerably. He flung himself on my couch. “So, where’s Pete?”
“Did you see little Pete?” Joe asked, feigning innocence.
“In the dark?”
“Under the covers?”
“Did he light up the room with his flashlight?”
“And by flashlight, we mean penis.”
“And by the room, we mean you.”
“And by light up, we mean butt fuck.”
I snorted. “Yeah, guys. That’s why I’m jumping around and dancing.” I sighed. “Don’t worry, I still have my new-found virginity intact.” I sat down next to Andy and looked down at my stomach. “And if I don’t lose weight, I have a good feeling it’ll stay that way.”
“Even if you do lose weight, it’ll stay that way,” Joe joked, bordering on cruel. “You’re one unattractive little leprechaun.”
“Wow, Joe, anger much?” Andy replied.
“I had a Goddamn screw shoved up my dick,” Joe answered, scowling. “I can say whatever I damn well please.”
“He’s got a point,” I admitted. “No, I told Pete what I think of Ashlee, and he got mad and left.”
Joe sat up so quick he gave a gasp of pain and laid gingerly back down. “For real?” he asked breathlessly, holding down the ice pack. “You told him you love him?”
“God no!” I laughed bitterly. “Yeah, that’d be a fun conversation. Face it, Pete thinks of me as a brother.”
“A brother you never, ever wanna have sex with,” Andy nodded sympathetically.
I ran a hand over my face, suddenly tired. “I just wish I knew what he sees in her.” I turned to Joe. “What do you think he likes in a guy?”
Joe shrugged. “He seems to like Johnny Depp.”
“Dude, I’m straight and I like Johnny Depp,” Andy snapped. “I think he likes guys… Like him.”
“You know, like, in his league. Not ugly motherfuckers like you,” Joe explained.
“Gee, thanks. Want another screw up your cock?” I was back in my bad mood. Even Joe’s look of anguish when I smacked his crotch didn’t cheer me up.
“It’s just… Ashlee… It’s like she’s blind,” I mumbled. “How can she not see how lucky she is? She had something that I would fucking die for, and she doesn’t even care about it.”
“Yeah, well…” Joe looked awkward. He seemed to want to continue being mean to me, but he obviously didn’t have the heart.
Andy reached over and shook my shoulder. “Hey, don’t feel bad, man. You’re gonna find someone, and you’re gonna have a great life. Good things happen to good people.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I shook him off and pointed at the door. “Now get the hell out, will you? I want to brood in silence.”

Author's Note: Comments are very much appreciated!

High On Infinity Chapter Two

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fall Out Boy.

Author's Note: This fic is doing pretty well on my new account at Ficwad (check Ficwad out if you wanna find some quality writing), and hopefully you guys might like it, too. This is one of my favorite things that I've written, so, with any luck, you guys will like it and keep liking it.

Name: High On Infinity
Pairing: Patrick/Pete (Fall Out Boy)
Genre: Humor, Romance
Rating: PG-13

Chapter Two.
I met Pete long after I’d met Andy and Joe. Joe had been my next-door neighbor since we were five, and Andy had been my lab partner in seventh grade science. Pete I didn’t meet until college.
I was dating a total douche at the time. His name was Chad, which already lets you know he was a douche. Chad is a very douchey name, kind of like Ashton. Think Chad Kroger and Ashton Kutcher if you don’t believe me.
Anyway, I was sitting in the quad, reading Tale of Two Cities for the third time when I first saw Pete. My mouth went dry the second I saw him. A hottie with olive skin, black hair, and tight pants was sitting about three feet away from me on the bench. He pulled out a copy of Of Mice and Men, the only decent Steinbeck novel.
He was perfect.
And he was staring at me like I was insane.
I looked back down at my book, blushing furiously. Shit. What was he thinking at that moment? Probably, “What’s that fat little monkey doing staring at a god like me? Who does he think he is?”
I was hoping the bench would open into a portal to somewhere far, far away. Like my bed in my dormitory where I could curl up and pretend I didn’t exist.
Until, that is, a hand entered my range of vision, obviously wanting to be shaken. “Hey, I’m Pete,” I heard from next to me. I looked up to see him smiling. “Pete Wentz.”
I took the proffered hand. It was warm and instrument-calloused. I was so nervous I’m surprised I didn’t throw up on him. “Hey. I’m Patrick Stump.”
Fuck. I shouldn’t have said my last name. I could’ve sworn I saw his lips dart into a millisecond smile. My nickname in elementary school had been Stumpy – and that was before anyone even knew my last name.
Pete pointed at Tale of Two Cities. “Haven’t read that one. How is it?”
I managed up enough saliva to answer. “It’s great. I’m a huge Dickens nerd.” Great. That’s just what you want to say to someone you just met.
Pete didn’t seem to mind. “I really liked Great Expectations, but I haven’t gotten to read much else.” He motioned to his own book. “You like Steinbeck?”
I wanted to lie, but I couldn’t. Lying about that seemed like a travesty. “No, not really. I liked Of Mice and Men, but not much else.”
“Yeah, same here.” I let out a small breath of relief. So he didn’t think I was a total d-bag. That was good.
Pete tilted his head and looked at me. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you in the dorms?”
“Nope, I have an apartment a little off-campus. I come to the dorms a lot, though.” To see my boyfriend! Say it, Patrick!
“Well then, would you be interested in coming to a party?”
HOLY SHIT.
I had never, never been invited to a party. NEVER. Not even elementary school birthday parties where the entire class seems to get an invitation. I’m surprised I didn’t burst into grateful sobs.
But wait.
I had a date with Chad that night. Shit! I couldn’t cancel. That would really make me an asshole, canceling a date with my boyfriend to hang out with someone much more attractive.
And not only was it a date, but Chad would be wanting sex. It seemed wrong to cancel sex. I don’t know why, it just did.
“Um…” I didn’t want to say it, but I had to. “I can’t tonight. I have a date with my boyfriend.”
He obviously thought he was getting blown off. “Oh.” He looked back down at his book. “Okay.”
I bit my lip. I couldn’t stand seeing him look so dejected. “But… But I can go any other time.”
Pete smiled a little. “Yeah, okay.”
Then he suddenly pulled out a notebook and shoved it at me. “Hey, will you look this over for me?”
They were song lyrics.
Am I more than you bargained for?
I’ve been dying to tell you
Anything you want to hear
‘Cause that’s just who I am this week…
I couldn’t help but stare. This was amazing. I had never seen words strung together like this. I, being the dork I was, suddenly imagined that Charles Dickens had sent Pete as a prophet of sorts. It was like God had thundered, “Here is your lyricist. With great power comes great responsibility.”
Hey, God’s seen Spider-Man. Everyone has.
“Pete, these are…” I shook my head slightly. I didn’t want to pull my eyes away from the page. “These are fantastic.”
“Really?” I was surprised to see a slight blush on his cheeks. “Thanks.”
“I mean it.” I handed it back to him. “I’ve never seen writing like that. It’s beautiful.”
Pete seemed proud of himself, as he should. “Thanks. I’ve never been complimented like that.”
We talked for two hours about random stuff. I told him about Andy and Joe, and how we were trying to start a band, but we didn’t have a bass player. He told me about how he had been playing bass for years. We even set up a time for him to audition before he had to go to class.
I went back to the apartment feeling light as a feather. Even Joe’s greeting of, “Hey, Porky Pig,” didn’t dampen my spirits.
That night was a totally different situation.
Chad did, indeed, want sex. I was on my back, eyes closed, panting lightly, mentally replacing Chad’s dull blonde hair with a mop of fluffy black, and his white skin with a beautiful olive complexion. Then –
“Hey, Chad! I got the beer!”
My eyes snapped open. The voice that I had been imagining had suddenly burst into reality. Chad stopped above me.
“Oh. Cool. Put it over on the table, will ya?” How could he be so nonchalant? He was just caught having gay sex, for Christ’s sake! Pete couldn’t see me in the dark room, but I was blushing in humiliation. I hoped that Chad would send Pete outside while I hid under the bed or something, but no.
He kept going.
“Chad!” I hissed, mortified. I tightened my knees to stop him from moving.
“What?” Chad snapped, obviously annoyed. “It’s just my roommate.”
“Exactly.” I pushed him off of me, scrambling to find my clothes, keeping the covers well over me. “We can’t do it in front of your roommate!”
“Why not?” See? I told you he was a douche.
“Because I’m not gonna do it!” I snapped.
“Why are you worried about Pete?” Chad chuckled. “He doesn’t care. Right, man?”
“About what?” Pete’s voice was apprehensive.
“About me doing it with my boyfriend.”
My cheeks were on fire. How fucking humiliating! The only comfort I received was the knowledge that Pete didn’t know it was me on my back getting fucked by the World’s Biggest Douche.
“Um, no. I don’t mind,” Pete mumbled uncomfortably, “but if he wants me to leave, Chad, it’s no problem…”
“You see?” Chad told me, kissing up my jaw to the base of my sideburns, something he knew drove me crazy. He shoved it back in, harsh enough for me to wince. There was no way I was going to win – and besides, there was something insanely hot about having Pete around while I had sex. As long as he didn’t know the slut in Chad’s bed was me…
After a few more minutes, I was back in the groove. Pete was only a room away, and I was more revved up than I had ever been.
Then I heard the door open.
I must’ve missed the knocking. All I heard was the click and creak of the door as it opened. Then I heard something that made my hot, flushed body go totally cold.
“Hey, man. Is Patrick here?”
I froze when I heard Andy’s voice. “What is it now?” Chad asked me, exasperated.
“Patrick?” Pete sounded confused. “Um… Well, Chad has his boyfriend over. Is that Patrick?”
“Yeah. He asked me to come get him, his car’s in the shop. I’m a little early, though.” I head Andy step around Pete. “Nice digs. Maybe I should’ve gotten a dorm.”
I was too horrified to move. Why was this happening to me? Why couldn’t I have one single day where my life didn’t get totally shit on?
“Oh, you, uh, don’t have a dorm?” I could tell that Pete was just trying to avoid explaining my absence.
“Nope, an apartment just off campus.” Andy grabbed something out of the kitchen fridge (once a mooch, always a mooch).
“I would’ve done that,” Pete said, attempting to stay casual, “but it seemed too far away, and most of them were a little pricey.”
“Well, yeah,” Andy replied, “but I’ve got two roommates. None of us have, like, great jobs or anything, but we play gigs for extra cash. We’re a little stuck right now, though. We need a bassist.”
Everything was quiet other than the squeaking of bed springs from Chad’s obliviously rapid thrusts. He didn’t seem to care that I wasn’t reciprocating.
When Pete finally spoke, it was slowly and hesitantly. “Um… Your friend, Patrick? His last name wouldn’t happen to be Stump, would it?”
That was enough to finally get Chad to stop. At the same time, Chad and Andy replied, “Yeah, it is!”
I covered my face with my hands. Oh my God.
I chanced a look at the open bedroom door. I saw Pete staring in, and I instantly ducked my head down.
Andy must’ve seen too, because I heard a surprised snigger followed by, “Oh. I didn’t realize he was indisposed. I can just go.”
“No, no!” I called. Chad jumped slightly, still inside me. I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. “Don’t leave, Andy.”
“Yeah, we shouldn’t be much longer,” Chad leered, obviously taking my anxiety as a concession. He went back at it with vivacity. I was suddenly jealous of women for their ability to fake orgasms. I closed my eyes tight and tried to ignore the door. I focused on the idea of Pete in my bed (with no one else around) and managed to finish with the most miserable, pathetic orgasm I had ever had.
I dressed, still under the covers (even back them I couldn’t stand anyone seeing me naked). I half-ran out, trying to avoid Chad. “Hey, Andy… And Pete.” I straightened my hat nervously. I couldn’t meet Pete’s eyes. I could feel his gaze carving into me, and for a wild moment I thought that he somehow knew what I had been fantasizing about in bed.
“Yeah, hey,” Pete muttered. Andy seemed to be on the verge of laughter, but he had mustered up enough respect for me to keep quiet.
“Hey, Pat!” I turned around to see Chad in his underwear, holding up a ball gag. Behind me, Andy tried to disguise his giggle with a cough. “Is this yours?”
I felt my eye twitch. “No, it’s not,” I growled through gritted teeth.
Chad cocked an eyebrow. “Do you want it to be?”
I have to admit, I admire Andy for holding it in as long as he did. But every man has his limits, and this was one of his. He collapsed to the ground, howling and convulsing with laughter. I saw Pete wipe his mouth, trying to quell the smile growing there. My whole body tensed with mortification as I grabbed the back of Andy’s shirt and tugged him out the door.
“We still on for next Wednesday?” Chad called after me.
I didn’t answer.
Needless to say, I didn’t see him next Wednesday. Actually, I found out that he’d been sleeping around by then, and I didn’t have so little self-respect that I’d go crawling into bed with a guy who had cheated on me and humiliated me. Instead, I listened to Pete’s audition, which went so well I damn near fell off my chair.
I hadn’t known at that moment that things would be taking off the way they did.

Author's Note: Please read and review!