Work Text:
Getting to play at Warped Tour seems like a dream come true, well, unless you’re Mikey Way. Playing last summer was fun and all, but he wasn’t sure he was looking forward to warm beers, sweltering heat, and other bands getting better time slots than My Chemical Romance. Despite his complaining though, Gerard was absolutely hell-bent on performing their hearts out for another summer, especially now that he was sober. At least this time they had an actual tour bus.
But now he has to get off the bus and prepare for their inevitable set. Great. He had just grabbed his bass, pulling it onto his back, and was now following Gerard, with Frank and Ray following close behind.
They had just made it to the little make-shift backstage area when a random man turned around from whoever he was talking to and ran directly into Mikey.
“Oof!” Mikey said at the same time the man said, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Mikey stepped to the side so he could avoid being run into by any other people.
“It’s fine,” Mikey’s mouth went into a tight smile, trying to seem polite, but his smile dropped at the look the other man was giving him. “Um, are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah,” The man continued staring at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, do I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar.”
“Oh, well, I’m in My Chem, so…” Mikey started, feeling weird about “getting recognized.”
“No, that’s not it. I swear I’ve met you before. What’s your name?” The substantially shorter man pointed at him.
“Uh, I’m Mikey?”
“Mikey…” The man thought for a second before snapping his fingers. “Oh my god! I think we, uh, ran into each other after you saw…Smashing Pumpkins? I’m Pete, remember?”
“Wait…Pete from Chicago?” Mikey realized he had a vague memory of meeting a boy named Pete a few years ago and doing…oh my god.
“Yes! Dude, what are the odds!” Pete laughed, making it unclear to Mikey how he remembered their time together. Mikey wasn’t sure he would’ve recognized him if he hadn’t said something, his hair much straighter and his eyes sporting some smudged eyeliner. “You found a band! What do you play? Is your brother in the band too?”
“Oh, um, yeah I play bass. My brother’s on vocals,” Mikey looked in the direction of where the other guys had run off to, attempting to remember the conversation they had before…well.
“No. Way. I play bass too!” Pete spoke excitedly, clearly unaware of how awkward Mikey felt.
“So I take it that ‘side project’ worked out for you, then?” Mikey watched as Pete giggled, even though what he said wasn’t particularly funny. “I thought you did vocals in your other band? Why aren’t you the frontman of this one?”
“Well, ‘vocals’ is a strong word for the screaming I did, but this band requires a lot less of that. That’s where Patrick comes in,” Pete looked around for somebody, presumably Patrick. “Patrick! Come here, I want you to meet someone.”
A man, shockingly shorter than Pete, wearing a trucker hat and sporting some wicked sideburns, walked over from the direction Pete had come from.
“Patrick, this is Mikey, he’s the bassist of My Chem,” Pete put his arm around Patrick in an overly-friendly fashion. “We actually met a while back, believe it or not.”
“Hi,” was all Mikey had to offer.
“Hello,” was all Patrick gave back. Luckily, Pete was willing to speak for both of them.
“Patrick does amazing vocals for us. He also plays guitar but he can really play any instrument you give him,” Pete continued, either not noticing or ignoring the way Patrick shifted next to him, clearly uncomfortable. “We’re Fall Out Boy, by the way, I don’t know if I said that.”
Before Mikey could find a reasonable way to respond, Frank appeared from behind him, “Dude! Come on, we’re on soon.”
“I guess we’ll have to catch up later,” Pete sighed, his arm still around Patrick. “There’s some other people I want you to meet, and you gotta introduce me to the rest of My Chem!”
“Yeah, I’ll catch you around dinner, right?” Mikey said, already following Frank, not waiting for a response. He caught a glimpse of both Pete and Patrick watching him walk off with incredibly different expressions on their faces.
After thinking about it for a moment, if Pete didn’t seem to care what exactly their “history” entailed, then why should he? Hell, it might be nice to already know somebody to hang out with that isn’t in his own band.
Maybe the summer won’t be so bad, after all.
***
Between Gerard wanting to stay on the bus so can avoid any “temptations” to drink, Ray already engrossed in playing GTA, and Frank worried about his vegetarian food, Mikey decides he’ll have to go out on his own to get food. Besides, he told Pete he’d meet up with him around dinner, and he supposed he’d be true to his word, especially since he’ll probably be seeing him a lot over the next few months.
When approaching the picnic tables filled with members of different bands and some concert-goers, he had the sudden urge to run back to the bus and sleep for dinner instead.
To his slight dismay, a familiar face was waving him over before he could decide whether or not this was a bad idea.
“Mikey!” Pete shouted, getting the attention of not just Mikey, but of several other people surrounding him. God, Pete was loud.
“Hey,” Mikey said casually as he approached the table that Pete sat at with Patrick and three other men he didn’t recognize. Pete immediately scooted to make room for him on the end of the bench.
“Guys, this is my friend Mikey I was telling you about earlier,” Pete announced to the table, breaking up any other conversations that were being had.
“The My Chem guy?” One of the boys across from them with bright blue eyes asked.
“That’d be me,” Mikey confirmed.
“Mikey, this is Joe, he’s lead guitar. Next to him is Andy, our drummer,” Pete gestured to the blue-eyed boy and the guy with long hair and glasses, who both seemed unaffected by Mikey’s presence. “And this is Chris, he’s not technically in the band but he helps with basically everything.”
“Hey,” Chris sat directly across from Mikey, and pulled a little smirk when he made eye contact with him. Okay, great. “So, remind me how you know Pete?”
“Oh, we ran into each other after a show I went to,” Mikey said in a tone he hoped was casual, not wanting anyone to ask for further details.
“What made you want to hang with a loser like him, sweet stuff?” Chris heartfully laughed, Joe giving him a side-eye.
Taken aback at the sudden flirting, Mikey worked to recover. “There wasn’t really anyone else around.”
Chris smiled surprised, and Joe let out a little nasally giggle. He thought for sure he heard Patrick scoff, but when he looked over to him he found him apparently engrossed in a conversation with Andy.
“Well, no worries, there’s better options around now,” Chris’ smirk returned to his face.
“Dude!” Pete interjected for the first time. Mikey looked over to find Pete wearing an extremely annoyed expression. “Seriously?”
“What? What did I say?” Chris looked around, pretending to have no idea what he was talking about.
“Yeah, Pete, what’s wrong?” Joe played along.
“Ugh, forget it, you guys suck,” Pete suddenly stood up from the table and began pulling Mikey with him. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
Mikey obliged and stood up without another word. Food would have to wait, he guessed. As they began making their way toward the parked cars, he heard someone from the table say, “What was his problem?”
“I’m so sorry about them, especially Chris,” Pete sighed, falling in step next to Mikey.
“It’s not a big deal. I don’t mind some playful flirting, it comes with being in a band with Frank Iero,” Mikey let his shoulder lightly bump into Pete’s.
“Yeah, right. ‘Playful,’” Pete’s gaze turned towards the ground.
“Why does it bother you so much?” Mikey stopped walking, forcing Pete to look up at him. Pete looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he turned his attention to the destination they had been apparently walking towards.
“Well, this is it. The ‘Fall Out Bus,’” Pete said playfully, completely changing his mood. “I just came up with that, what do you think?”
“It’s not bad,” Mikey shrugged, making Pete frown slightly.
“Whatever, I’m awesome,” Pete promptly turned and opened the door to the bus, Mikey following closely. Curiosity getting the better of him, he seriously wondered where Pete was going with this. He followed Pete all the way to the couch in the lounge area of the bus, sitting right next to him.
“What are the chances that we’re both playing this tour? How crazy is that?” Pete’s mood seemed to continue to improve, with him facing Mikey with a huge smile on his face.
“I don’t know. Probably in the millions,” Mikey said, analytically, probably sounding like the nerd he is. His genuine answer only made Pete smile more.
“Can I tell you something?” Pete scooched closer to Mikey so that their thighs were touching. Mikey nodded wordlessly, desperate to actually hear what was going on in Pete’s mind. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you at first, you want to know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve thought a lot about that night,” Pete admitted, to Mikey’s surprise. “My mind goes back to it all the time, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I think I do,” He had to be honest, Pete did have a better quality than most of his other one-night stands. It wasn’t very often he had things in common with them
“Would you ever…want to do something like that again?” Pete asked, hesitantly.
“What do you mean?” Mikey asked, even though he knew exactly what he meant.
“Like…” Pete leaned forward, as if to tell Mikey a secret, and before he knew it, they were kissing. Despite the fact that they had only kissed a few times a couple years ago, there was something familiar about Pete’s warm, full lips that Mikey found himself getting slightly lost in. When Pete pulled away, Mikey barely gave him a second to breathe, pulling him by his neck, deepening their kiss. After actually getting the chance to breathe, Pete whispered, “Mikey…”
Hearing how desperate Pete sounded only made him want this more. Instantly, he pushed Pete to lie down on the couch and fumbled with his belt. They likely wouldn’t have the time to do everything they wanted to do, considering they weren’t in a private hotel room this time, but Mikey was willing to work with what he had.
Pete’s hands found his as he helped to wiggle himself out of his pants, flinging them somewhere on the floor. Mikey held the hem of Pete’s gray boxers in his hands, but instead of pulling them down, he cupped the length of Pete’s growing bulge through the fabric, resulting in a sultry moan from the man above him.
“Shh, Pete, we’re in a parking lot, remember?” Mikey smirked at him, honestly not caring how loud Pete wanted to be, it was his funeral. Pete responded by covering his mouth with his own arm.
Returning to the task at hand, Mikey brought his mouth down to Pete’s cock, sucking slightly. He glanced up at Pete while his mouth remained, watching him just over his glasses. Pete made direct eye contact, pupils full, before pulling his arm away from his mouth to attempt to pull down his boxers.
“Mikey, please…” Pete begged quietly. Mikey hummed at Pete’s impatience, but obliged, pulling his boxers all the way down, exposing him. Without another word, he repeated the same motions from before, but this time taking Pete’s tip into his mouth. “Holy shit.”
Mikey let Pete put his hands in his hair, guiding him slightly to take more of him. Mikey found a rhythm of bobbing his head while Pete continued to twitch and pant under him. Before he knew it, Pete was thrusting his hips, stuttering and shaking. The only warning he had was a particularly high-pitched whimper before Pete was spilling over into his mouth, and slightly onto his face.
Pete laid there, with his head thrown back, while Mikey swallowed what he could and wiped off the rest. Pete grabbed Mikey’s shoulders, bringing him into a passionate, salty kiss.
“Can I-” Pete cut himself off at the sound of a nasally giggle and a few other voices coming from nearby in the parking lot, no doubt Joe and the rest of the band.
“I should probably go,” Mikey sat up, slightly disappointed at not getting the favor returned, but willing to jack off later.
“Wait!” Pete sat up as well, trying to pull his boxers back up. “We should hang out tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Mikey replied, standing up, prepared to leave without another word. Something in him decided to be a little nicer, however, and he sat back down to give Pete a brief kiss on the cheek. “See you then.”
Before Pete could say anything else, and before anyone else entered the bus, Mikey slipped off into the night and back onto his own bus before anyone started wondering where he was. Laying in his bunk, staring at the ceiling, he decided that Warped Tour was, in fact, a dream come true.
***
For the past week or so, Mikey and Pete had been practically inseparable. At every opportunity, they were sitting by each other during the cookouts, watching each other’s shows, and “sneaking out” to kiss behind the porta potties like love-sick teenagers.
No one was the wiser that they were anything more than friends. Well, except for Frank, who narrowed his eyes at them whispering things to each other at the picnic tables.
“What?” Mikey had asked when he caught Frank staring.
“I didn’t say anything,” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“I need a cigarette,” Gerard stood up from the table, pulling out his pack of cigs. “Frankie, you coming?”
“Coming!” Frank diverted his attention from the couple to skip after Gerard.
“I thought he said he was trying to quit?” Ray asked once Frank was out of earshot.
Pete shot Mikey a look that read, Seriously? Mikey simply rolled his eyes in response. If Frank was the only one who was suspicious of them, he thinks they’ll be okay.
At every chance they could, they got away from the chaos of Warped Tour altogether. They went to movies, and when the heat of some states they traveled to got too much, they went to waterparks to splash each other with water as much as possible.
After a particularly long day where they escaped off to race on waterslides (Mikey usually wins, he’s more aerodynamic), they found a small pedestrian bridge where they could sit and talk alone as the day started to close.
“The fourth of July is a week away,” Pete announced, still looking forward.
“So?” Mikey turned to him, already smiling.
“So…do you have any plans yet?” Pete asked, knowing fully that they would be spending the day together.
“Oh, I don’t know. I was planning on just watching some people try and blow their fingers off in the parking lot,” Mikey teased. “Maybe light a sparkler.”
“Can I be the person you’re watching explode?” Pete leaned in closer to him, grabbing his hand.
“Fine by me,” Mikey answered, letting Pete put his head on his shoulder.
Pete continued to fiddle with their hands as he watched the sun set. Maybe it was the heat of the day getting to him, or the sunset was skewing his vision, but Mikey couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Pete looked next to him. He considered telling him as much, but was worried Pete would be weirded out, especially with the use of the “beautiful.”
“You should play with us on stage sometime,” Pete spoke before he could fully make a decision. “Like, in a week or something, so you have time to learn a song.”
“Yeah? I’d like that,” Mikey gently stroked the back of Pete’s hand with his thumb, making Pete shiver. “What song would I play?”
“How about ‘Saturday?’” Pete offered. “Maybe one of us could play with you guys too, if Gerard would have us, of course. Maybe Patrick could drum for a song?”
“Patrick’s a drummer?”
“Patrick can play any instrument,” Pete scoffed, making Mikey unsure whether or not he was joking. “He hasn’t played drums in a while, but that’s what he did before I basically forced him to be our singer.”
“Oh,” Sometimes Mikey questioned why Pete talked about Patrick so often, but he wasn’t about to unpack all of that right now. “Yeah, I can talk to Gerard.”
“Thanks, man,” Pete said softly, squeezing his hand, making any thoughts of Patrick immediately leave Mikey’s mind.
***
True to his word, Mikey had told Gerard that Patrick was interested in playing drums with them for a song.
“Patrick’s a drummer?” Gerard asked suspiciously (seriously, no one is more suspicious than Gerard, Mikey has learned).
“Apparently. Pete says he’s really good,” Mikey replied. “And Pete asked me to play a song with them, too.”
“Oh, well if Pete says so,” Gerard relaxed into a smile. “Yeah, he can for sure play with us. He can even pick which song.”
Later, Mikey approached Pete and Patrick with their backs to him, clearly deep in conversation. It’s not that Mikey was aiming to eavesdrop on what they were saying, which seemed very important, it’s just that he thought it would be too awkward to interrupt them.
“I just mean, why have you been spending so much time with him?”
“Uh, maybe because we’re friends? Besides, why do you even care?”
“I don’t. I guess I just don’t get the appeal. Even Joe thinks he’s sooo cool.”
“Pfft, well, he is, so jot that down.”
“Hey, I was just looking for you Patrick,” Mikey announced, making his presence known. They both whipped their heads around, faces red at being caught talking about him.
“Me?” Patrick’s face beamed red.
“Yeah, I talked to Gerard, we’re open to having you play drums with us for a song of your choice,” Mikey remained casual, because honestly whatever was happening between Pete and Patrick was barely his business.
“What?!” Patrick’s eyes widened.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Pete shrugged, as if this whole conversation meant nothing. “Since Mikey’s gonna play with us, we thought you’d wanna play with My Chem.”
“‘We?’” Mikey repeats at the same time Patrick asks, “Mikey’s what?” Pete seems unaffected by both questions.
“When were you gonna tell me this?” Patrick asks like an unkempt mother, and Mikey can almost see the hands on his hips.
“When it came up,” Pete shrugged again. Before Pete could say anything else stupid, Patrick stormed off, mumbling something about “apparently needing to practice.”
“Is everything okay?” Mikey asked, even though he was sure Pete wouldn’t give him an honest answer. The last thing he wanted was for their relationship to cause strain with Pete and his band.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Pete lied, brushing some of Mikey’s hair behind his ear.
***
Despite how unprepared Patrick must’ve felt, Mikey had to admit he absolutely crushed it on “Thank You for the Venom,” and the rest of My Chem seemed to agree too. Soon enough, Pete was getting the rest of Fall Out Boy to clear the bus so they could have “bassists only practice,” where they got absolutely nothing done.
Still, Mikey had managed to learn enough from Pete to play “Saturday” with the rest of the band. The entire time he was on stage, he could feel himself being watched, even more so than usual, on account of Pete sitting just a few feet away, completely transfixed by him. It also didn’t help that he was constantly catching Patrick glancing at him in the corner of his eye, whatever that means for him.
Only moments after the set had finished and everyone else had stayed to see the next band perform, Pete had Mikey pressed against the wall in his bus, kissing him excitedly.
“You looked so good,” Pete mumbled, breathless. “I loved watching you up there.”
“I can tell,” Mikey smirked, nodding at Pete’s visible boner.
“God, shut up,” Pete teased, pulling him in for an even deeper kiss. Pete’s hands had found themselves fumbling with Mikey’s belt.
“What do you have in mind?” Mikey asked at Pete’s eagerness.
“I was wondering…if I could suck you off?” Pete asked almost shyly, fingers curling around the waistband of Mikey’s boxers.
“Have you ever done that before?” Mikey figured he would ask, despite being down either way. An inexperienced blowjob is better than no blowjob at all, he always says.
“Yeah,” Pete nodded, already getting on his knees in front of Mikey and beginning to pull his pants down his thighs. “Kind of.”
“It’s a yes or no question,” Mikey quickly stopped talking at the sight of Pete’s eyes gazing up at him through his eyelashes. “Okay, you can try.”
“Nice,” Pete snickered, pulling Mikey’s already hard dick out of his boxers and lining it up with his lips.
Pete looked up, making eye contact one more time, before giving his tip the slightest kiss, making Mikey shiver as he watched. He then opened his mouth to bring the tip past his lips, licking at the slit as he went. Mikey’s hand flew to Pete’s hair, both as a grounding device and a way to stop Pete before he likely gags.
Slowly, Pete takes as much as he can without hitting his gag reflex. The sensation of Pete’s warm mouth on him almost gave Mikey goosebumps, and he had to hold himself back from losing control and thrusting into Pete’s face.
At last, Pete lets his cheeks hollow out as he sucked, bobbing his head to his own rhythm. Mikey suppressed a groan, instead opting for tugging at Pete’s hair, resulting in a whimper that Pete swallowed around his cock. As Pete began to quicken his pace slightly, Mikey watched with lustrous eyes as Pete reached down to start palming himself through his already too-tight jeans. The sight of Pete being so easily able to get off just by sucking him was almost too much to bear.
“Pete…” He warned, before pulling Pete away from him only to stroke himself in front of his face. Hardly three strokes later, Pete closed his eyes as Mikey came onto his face, while Pete still managed to practically hump his own hand.
The afterglow left them both slightly slumped, but Mikey managed to pull Pete up to his feet and find where the band kept their towels on the bus. Hoping that the towel he picked wasn’t anyone’s in particular (especially not Patrick’s), he cleaned them both off and zipped his jeans.
“I should, uh, probably change my pants,” Pete gave him a tired smile, before turning and grabbing whoever’s sweatpants were on the floor. “Come lay with me, my knees hurt.”
“Okay,” Mikey returned the smile, letting Pete drag him over to his bunk, clambering in after him.
They lay, facing each other, sharing the same pillow. As soon as Mikey took his glasses off and secured them in a spot where they wouldn’t be crushed, exhaustion hit him like a truck. Today had generally been a long day of both travel and performance.
“You have such unique eyes,” Pete spoke softly, staring directly at Mikey and not breaking eye contact.
“Thanks?” Mikey quirked an eyebrow, almost laughing at Pete’s sudden interest in his eyes, but he was honestly too tired to care. Pete reached out between them, interlocking their fingers. More comfortable than ever, Mikey let his eyes drift closed, certain that Pete was still studying him.
Just as Mikey was about to enter the realm of sleep, Pete spoke again, “Mikey, I love you.”
Mikey’s eyes shot open.
“...What?”
“I said…I love you,” Pete repeated, sounding more unsure.
Mikey stared at him. His knee-jerk reaction was to sit up in confusion, but the tightness of the bunk prevented him from doing so. He studied Pete’s expression, hit knit together eyebrows, those deep brown pools of brown, and two full lips drawn together in a partial frown.
“No, you don’t.”
“What?” It was Pete’s turn to ask. Mikey managed to prop himself up on an elbow.
“Pete…you can’t. Like, it’s not possible,” Mikey spoke, softer this time. At Pete’s confusion, he continued. “Pete, you barely know me. Like…what town am I from?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere in Jersey?”
“Exactly. I don’t know that about you either.”
“Well, that’s okay. That’s part of the fun, getting to know you,” He tried to argue. “We have all the time in the world to get to know each other.”
“That’s just it, Pete,” Mikey sighed. “Look, I really like you. It’s been a really great summer. But that’s the thing, it’s just the summer. After this tour, I’ll be busy touring with My Chem and starting our next album, and you guys are just getting started with touring for your album. Do you know what I’m saying?”
“You’re saying…this,” Pete waved a hand between them. “Is just a…summer fling?”
“Well, what else would it be?” Mikey instantly regretted his words after seeing the hurt look on Pete’s face.
“But, Mikey, things are clearly different with us,” Pete sounded almost angry now. “I mean, what the hell are the odds that we would meet in a city that neither of us live in, only to both be doing this stupid ass tour years later? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Of course it does,” Mikey tensed. “But it’s honestly more of a coincidence than anything. I was always hoping we would keep in touch after the tour, too.”
“Keep in touch…as friends?”
Mikey didn’t know how to respond. On one hand, he absolutely adored Pete, but he just couldn’t see a way for them to continue their relationship beyond seeing each other every few months. Besides, Mikey was no way in hell ready to hear any “L” words.
Lucky for him, they were once again interrupted by the sound of other members of Fall Out Boy loudly arguing about Star Wars lore outside the bus’ door.
“I should go,” Mikey said quietly, grabbing his glasses and getting up to leave, before hesitating and turning back around to give Pete a kiss on the cheek. He avoided Pete’s gaze and similarly kept his head down leaving the bus, ignoring Joe’s questions on what they were up to.
***
The next day was incredibly awkward. Well, unless he was performing or practicing with the band, where no one seemed to notice any waivers in his stoic expression. Things became more difficult, however, after the sun started to go down. Instead of hanging out and drinking beer with the other bands, as usual, he found himself just heading back to his own bus, telling someone that if anyone asked, he had a killer headache.
Considering 2005, was the year that My Chemical Romance calmed down, he found the bus to be incredibly quiet. The only person awake was Frank, who was reading a damaged copy of American Psycho in his bunk under a small light, with Gerard and Ray presumably asleep above him.
“You’re back at a reasonable time,” Frank barely glanced at him moving to lay in the cot across from him.
“Just really tired,” He sighed, crossing his arms and staring at the ceiling of his bunk.
“So…” Frank placed his bookmark into the book and laid it on his chest. “Is it true?”
“...Is what true?” Mikey asked, turning his head to face Frank.
“Did you ‘outplay the player?’” Frank asked, added with air quotes.
“What?” Mikey asked, even more confused.
Frank rolled his eyes, “Did you break things off with Pete?”
“How do you know about that?” He instantly had Mikey’s attention. “Wait, me and Pete were never even in a relationship. Who told you any of that?”
“Oh, you know, things get around on Warped Tour. Through the grapevine and all that,” Frank answered nonchalantly.
“Oh my God, shut up,” Mikey groaned, ready for this conversation to be over.
“Wait, what do you mean you guys were never in a relationship?” Ray suddenly butted in, poking his head out behind his bunk’s curtain above Frank. “Are you just saying that? Cause it sure doesn’t seem like it.”
“Ugh, you both need to stay out of this,” Mikey sneered. “He’s just…a really good friend.”
“Mikey, are you having boy problems?!” Gerard whipped his curtain back and leaned over his bunk above Mikey.
“What the hell? Does everyone know about this?” Mikey spoke in frustration, before turning away from his obnoxious bandmates.
“Mikey, if you’re not careful there’ll be a song about you on the next Fall Out Boy record,” Frank joked, resulting in muffled giggles from both Gerard and Ray.
“Yeah, right,” Mikey mumbled, attempting to block the other three out. “I wish this stupid tour would just end already.”
***
Mikey’s wish seemed to come true, and the end of Warped Tour came up before he even knew it. Nearly everyone was moving about, either gathering the last of their equipment or trying to grab a friend’s phone number. Mikey himself had gained plenty of phone numbers, well, all but one, the one person he had been avoiding. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to Pete at all, but he really couldn’t handle his sad, desperate eyes clawing at him for much longer.
“I think we’re about ready to hit the road,” Ray announced, pulling Mikey out of his thoughts.
“Ugh, I miss my real bed,” Frank groaned, standing up and stretching. “Let’s go, Mikey.”
“Just gimme a second, there’s something I need to do,” Mikey sighed, despite himself.
“What would you- oh wait,” Frank gave him a knowing look. “Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.”
As soon as their conversation was over, Mikey found himself walking toward the Fall Out Bus, where Pete was currently standing outside unhelpfully.
“Hey, Pete,” Mikey said gently to get his attention. At the sound of his name, Pete turned around with a smile, but it dropped slightly when he saw who said it.
“What do you want?” Pete said dismissively, as if he didn’t even want to give Mikey the time of day.
“I was just…well, it’s the last day I just realized I never got your phone number,” Mikey explained as casually as possible, pulling something out of his pocket for him to write his number on.
“You want…my number?” Pete seemed seriously taken aback, his protective guard momentarily let down.
“Well, yeah. I’d like to keep in touch,” Mikey offered his pen in Pete’s direction.
“Oh. Uh, I guess I would too,” Pete grabbed the pen from him and scribbled his number down as quickly as possible. “Wilmette, by the way.”
“What?”
“I’m from Wilmette, Illinois,” Pete elaborated.
“Oh,” Mikey said, still only a little lost in their last conversation. “I’m from Belleville, New Jersey.”
“Cool,” Pete replied, still refusing to look him right in the eyes. “Maybe I’ll be seeing you around?”
“Maybe. Fate will decide,” was all Mikey said before he walked away, without looking back at Pete.